The Iron Alchemist

Chapter 8

The wagon headed up the ridge towards the perch, snaking up the hillside, while the sun sat lost out of sight. The hills felt alive. Eyes in the trees while distant wails and nearby cracks irked at the soul. The horses moved forward with precaution and looked on with uncertainty. One misstep could send them plummeting over the cliff's edge. An often mishap to weary and untried wagoners.

There was a sharp, bitter cold in the air, that bit at the bone, making the party of three shiver beneath their furred garments. Boone tugged on his coat, sticking his chin further beneath his black bandana, until his lips and nose were lost, leaving only his eyes left exposed.

Rynan was the least bit affected...or seemed to be at least. He jerked forward from the wagon's bed. "Pappy Jeroco, much obliged for taking us." He smirked and his cheeks half-mooned. "I knew you'd come around. Boone said you wouldn't but I always knew you would...we're grown boys after all."

Boone glared back at Rynan, holding a rifle cocked and ready to fire if need be. He thought about giving the giant boy a fright. But there was no time for games. Their dire predicament made for earnest devotion, and so, he couldn't fall into his childish behaviors.

Rynan retreated from the boys gaze and covered himself with furs and bags. Might of been why he was so warm, Boone thought.

He twisted forward, catching his Pappy's glaring eyes, puffing down his pipe, and whipping his reins steady. Keep quiet, pappy told him before they'd left. Rynan's just a queer boy with a queer head. No need to make our affairs his own. And pappy was right. Boone recalled the time he told Rynan they'd put Old Belle down due to rabies. For several months, thereafter, Rynan believed every time he felt anger it was due to being bitten and turned. Nearly lost his head over it.

"You were right," Jerocobish said softly. "God had no place at the table...Not from me, no how."

Boone was staggered by his honesty. "I know you did it for Ma Jean." He replied to ease the tension between them. "One day you're gonna have to stand up to her, ya know."

"And that day I'd be shot dead and riding to the prairie."

"Who said you're going to the prairie?" Boone's tone was light-hearted. Jerocobish face wrinkled. The boy egged on, "Your blasphemous tongue has likely got you eternal severance, to wander alone in the drylands begging of thirst."

Jerocobish hacked and snickered. "As long as there's cherry Tobacci I think I'd survive," he winked.

"You can find cherry Tobacci just about anywhere... If they have it, you'll find it." They laughed together until their voices carried in the cold, leaving them silent once again. Boone frowned, "what's gonna happen to Ma Jean, Pappy?"