We took the train back to GloryLand to leave from there, since New Plymouth was in the opposite direction of where I needed to be. The moon was high in the sky and I clasped the box as we rode into the desert. Since we didn’t know what to expect, as soon as we were far enough from town, we would build the fire and see what happened.

To be on the safe side, we rode for a good hour into the desert toward the mountain before dismounting and starting a campfire. Once it was blazing with blue heat, I opened the box. The stone inside was unremarkable. It was gray and smooth and could have been a stone from any creek bed. For a moment I considered if that is all it was, that we’d been the victims of a trick, either by Pa or by the witch, Shoshana. I knew that witches were often deceiving. Things that seemed ordinary seldom were. Things that seemed magical often weren’t. So, without another thought, I tossed the stone into the fire.

Nothing happened.

Across from me, the flames sent shadow’s dancing across Cheryl’s face. She’d been quiet ever since we’d left for New Plymouth. Now concern lined her normally soft features. Next to her, Tom took her fingers in his hand and squeezed.

“Gee Sheriff. It don’t look like—”

Tom didn’t finish his sentence.

A loud boom—at least ten times louder than rifle fire, sounded from the fire. The smoke began twirling and twisting into the night air, lavender and green instead of gray. It swirled and danced into the starry night sky forming a small cyclone as it rose higher and higher and higher.

Tom gasped and fell backwards, landing on his ass. Cheryl smirked, barely cocking an eyebrow at the scene in front of us, like the bad-ass she was.

I crossed my arms over my chest and continued to watch until as suddenly as it began, the cyclone stopped and there in the smoke was Shoshanna. Her sunset curls moved wildly about her head, like a burning cloud around her face. Her yellow eyes glowed fiercely and her milky skin seemed lit from within. I could see through her form, as if she were a translucent screen—both real and a mirage.

Tom stared with lips parted. It was probably worth mentioning that Shoshana wore not a stitch of clothing. Her full breasts swung as she moved from side to side, looking down at us. Her nipples stood erect, and her skin reminded me of the carved marble of an ancient statue. She was beautiful and cold and dangerous.

Tom continued to stare.

Cherly slapped Tom. “It’s not like you’ve never seen tits before, Deputy.”

Tom rubbed his cheek and quickly averted his eyes.

“Who dares call me?” Shoshana’s voice was low and raspy, same as I remembered it from childhood.

“It is I,” I said, stepping toward the campfire. “Alyssa Davis. First female Sheriff of GloryLand City and daughter of Lucille Davis. She saved your life, once upon a time. You gave her a stone and promised her help if it ever arose. She’s dead, but I need your help—and she’d expect you to cooperate. No trickery, witch. You gave Ma your word.”

Shoshana’s burning yellow eyes narrowed on me. My heart raced as I tried not to whither under the witch’s stare. I loved Jon—because there was no one else on this earth I’d confront a witch for. But I thought of him dying in a whore’s boarding room in an unfamiliar bed, when all he wanted was to see his son—to raise him and be his father. He deserved better. If he was brave enough to bargain his soul then I would be brave enough to get it back. No matter what it took.

“Lucille Davis has a daughter. But she is a child. When I left her she was no taller than my waist.”

I scrunched my face. It had been over twenty years since mama had met and helped Shoshana. Why would she think any differently?

“I am Lucille’s only child.” I said. I kept the unsureness from my voice.

The witch continued to watch me with a hawk’s predatory gaze. The firelight flickered, and she flickered with it. Looking down at her body, she seemed to realize where she was for the first time. The witch gasped. “Can it be?”

Cheryl stepped closer to me. “You are a rune, witch.” My friend’s voice was calm. Even.

Shoshana’s head snapped to Cheryl’s direction. “Liar!”

Cheryl remained confident. “I mean you no harm—but you are not Shoshana. You are a rune—a shape cast by your creator in her own image. You are here to serve a purpose and that is all. You are not the witch you appear to be.”

“Stupid girl. I know what a rune is. I make them all the time.” Shoshana’s voice rose with each word, but as she spoke her face softened, as if she realized what she was saying disproved her own argument.

“You,” she began again, looking at me, “you are Lucille’s child?”

I nodded.

The image seemed to consider this. Finally, she spoke. “Why have you summoned me?”

“A witch has stolen the soul of my beloved and now he might die. I do not want him bound to her for all eternity.”

Shoshana’s face (or the rune’s face) hardened. “There is only one witch on the mountain capable of such magic. She is old and vile. Her name is Abiya and she is the one who ran me away from my home.”

Tom had regained his composure and flanked the other side of me. “Why would she run you off?” He asked the question the same he asked every question; as if he were talking to an old friend and was genuinely curious.

The rune’s eyes softened. “Because her power was fading. It had been many years since she made love with a virgin and because of this she’d grown weak. She thought I coveted her position—so she invented a tale to turn my sisters against me. So I...” Her eyes widened.

“So you what?” I asked.

“I left. I wandered in the desert and got lost before a woman found me and cared for me.” Her face slackened. “Yes. I owe your mother a kindess. I will repay it by helping you. There is only one way to kill Abiya. You must pierce her behind her left ear. She has bathed in the River Styx and this is the one area she is vulnerable.” The smoke thickened and then the rune held out her hand. “This dagger is dipped in scorpion venom and blessed by a priest. Shove this behind her left ear and twist. Then Abiya will be no more.”

I took the dagger from her hand. How is this even possible? The knife was heavy in my hand. It was ice cold, though it had just came from the flame. It was as real as I was. Only, it had appeared in the flames, held by a rune. Before I could contemplate what was happening, Shoshana disappeared.

Without saying goodbye, without a noise or pageantry, she simply was no more. Here and then gone.

“Wow,” Tom said. “That there was something.”

Cheryl shrugged. “Her job was done—she fulfilled her promise, so there was nothing to bind her here. She had to disappear.”

“I wonder if the real Shoshana is still alive,” I mumbled.

“Who knows?” Cheryl placed an arm over my shoulders. “A rune is like a postcard in time. Shoshana could be alive and living it up or have been dead for years—it wouldn’t have affected the delivery of the message.”

“How do you know these things?” I whispered the question to my friend.

Cheryl shrugged. “I had an interesting childhood before my parents sold me to the Madame.” She said the word parents as if it pained her. “Never mind what you overhear growing up in a whorehouse.”

The pain of her memories was evident in the deepening of the slight lines in her face and the hard angles of her expression. Her answer was no real answer at all, but I wouldn’t push. Not if it hurt her. We all deserved our secrets.

I squeezed the dagger. It was heavy in my hand. It felt right in a way I cannot explain—as if I were meant to have it. My heart was a bit lighter and I recognized the emotion. It was hope. For the first time, I thought we may have a chance to help Jon and get away with our own lives.

“Well, let’s get going,” I said, looking toward the distance, where Red Soot loomed like a fairy tale giant. “We have a witch to stab and a soul to save.”