The shadow moon circles around again. Nearby, a coyote yips and then stops short. Gran says that animals see the shadow moon—that they see all the shadows. That’s why a dog runs up to some strangers, wagging its tail, and runs up to others, baring its teeth, and every now and then, it runs clean in the other direction. I feel that urge now. Something is wrong here, the shadows oozing. When I send out my own magic, it balks and slinks back, and the hairs rise on my neck.
“Evie…”
The whisper creeps over on the shadows. I spin, peering into darkness.
“Little Evie, out all alone.”
“Wh—who’s there?”
One of the shadows glides onto the road and takes the form of a woman.
I squint at her. “Paula? That you?”
Paula saunters toward me, gun in hand. I yank out my knife, and she laughs.
There’s a gun strapped to my thigh, but I don’t go for it. I quaver, and my heart beats hard enough that I don’t need to fake my fear.
“I—I don’t understand,” I say. “You come to help me catch the fella I’m hunting?”
Footsteps off to my left. I tense, and my gut screams for me not to look. Shadows pulse behind me, and I want to run. Throw my knife at Paula and hightail it into the woods.
Gripping my knife, I pivot to see two figures. A man and a boy about my age.
“You haven’t met my Billy, have you?” Paula says behind me. “This is my boy, Billy, and my man, Chester.”
Chester’s shadow slips back and forth like a child playing peek-a-boo. The boy is different. I barely see the boy at all through the shadow.
I straighten and force myself to turn my back on Billy as I face Paula.
“Therewasa massacre,” I say. “We heard the news. But the guide didn’t do it, did he?”
Paula shrugs. “Oh, I expect he did. None of our concern. It was just the kind of story I knew would get you out here. I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Miss Evie. All it took was a whisper in the old woman’s ear, telling her this guide was known for fancying pretty girls and weren’t you just about old enough to doyour own jobs? Specially one as easy as this, an old fella making his way home, thinking he got away with murder.”
“You want me?” I say. “For what?”
“Your magic.”
Behind me, Billy’s shadow oozes and whispers. I block it out. As Paula saunters toward me, I grip my knife until the handle hurts my palm.
“That’s a very special magic you got there, girl,” she says. “I remember when I was little, my ma would tell me stories about the Riley women. How I had to be good, ’cause they’d know if I wasn’t. How we James women were their special friends.” She spits in the dirt. “Theirlackeys, more like. We do all the work, finding clients, running messages, collecting pay, and we’re lucky to get a few dollars while you all grow fat on that ranch.”
“You want me to give you the magic?”
She snorts. “You think I’m stupid, girl? You get that magic from your momma, who got it from hers.”
“So you wantme. What for?”
She doesn’t like the question. It’s too calm. I reach down inside myself and relax the part that warns never to let them see my fear, even when I’m drowning in it.
“I—I don’t understand,” I say. “I just came to do a job.”
That tremor is exactly what she wants, and she squeezes my arm. “I know. It’s your gran’s fault for letting you loose with that special gift. I’ll look after you better. Billy will, too.” Her gaze turns to her son, and her eyes glow. “Ain’t he a fine boy? Big and handsome, like his daddy was.”
“I don’t understand,” I repeat, and this time, I just don’t want to.
“You’re going to marry my Billy. Tell your gran you decided to wed and keep moving west with us.” She rubs my arm. “You’ll like it better with me, child. I won’t ask you to kill nobody.”
I need to resist the urge to say, again, that I don’t understand. I let my expression answer for me, and she laughs softly.
