Devil Moon

Chapter Seventeen

The fire roared, the flames two feet high. Its comforting light lit the entire clearing and the fringe of woodland.

Evelyn sat with her knees tucked to her chest and the Hawken propped between her legs. Next to her, curled in a ball and sound asleep, was Bright Rainbow. Evelyn refilled her coffee cup and glanced at the firewood they had left. She frowned. It wasn’t enough to last the rest of the night.

Hours had passed since the Devil Cat attacked Buttercup. There had been no sign of it since. Evelyn hoped—she prayed—the mountain lion had been hurt when the tree limb struck it. Hurt so badly, it had gone off to its lair and would leave them be.

By her reckoning it was past three in the morning. Another three hours, or so, and the sun would be up. Another three hours and her parents would be there. She was a little surprised they weren’t there already. She’d figured her father would ride like a madman to her rescue. She gazed along the dark funnel of the valley as she had a dozen times since she sat down and did more praying.

“Where are you?” Evelyn wondered out loud. The only reason she could think of for them not to show was that something had happened to Dega and he never got to them. The prospect terrified her.

Evelyn sipped more coffee. There was about a cupful left in the pot, and that was all. So far it had kept her awake and alert, but she could feel fatigue nipping at her mind and body and every so often she stifled a yawn. She envied Bright Rainbow being able to sleep. The girl had tried to stay awake and help keep watch, but exhaustion and a full belly refused to be denied.

Down out of the moonlit peaks to the west drifted the howl of a wolf. She had heard an awful lot of wolves that night, many more than usual. She speculated on whether a new pack was roaming that region. The notion didn’t scare her. She wasn’t afraid of wolves as she was of grizzlies and mountain lions. When she was little, her brother had a pet wolf for a while, and she had liked the frisky fellow considerably. She gazed up at the beautiful full moon and almost felt like howling herself. Grinning at her silliness, she raised the tin cup to her lips—and her heart skipped a beat.

The eyes were back, across the clearing at the edge of the trees, aglow with reflected light from the fire, unblinking in their intensity.

Evelyn set down the cup and took up the Hawken. She thumbed back the hammer and set the rear trigger so that all it would take was a slight squeeze on the front trigger to fire. Her Hawken had a maple stock with a curve in the wood for her cheek. She put her cheek to the curve and sighted down the barrel.

The eyes vanished.

Evelyn held the rifle to her cheek until her arms couldn’t take the strain, and lowered it. If she didn’t know better she would think the mountain lion was toying with them. All she wanted was a clear shot, just one clear shot, and their ordeal would be over.

The flames were dwindling. She added one to the three pieces of a broken limb they had left and tried not to think of what she must do after she added the other two. To take her mind off it she sipped coffee and thought about Dega and how her picnic had turned into a disaster. So much for being alone with him. So much for sharing her heart and having him share his.

Bright Rainbow groaned and stirred and muttered in her sleep. Her arms and legs twitched. She was in the grip of a dream or more likely a nightmare because she started to mew in terror and uttered a soft sob.

Evelyn shook her.

The girl’s eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. She looked around in confusion and then at the fire and at Evelyn. Sweat caked her face and she was as pale as a bedsheet.

“Are you all right?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“The Devil Cat?”

“Yes.” Bright Rainbow scanned the impenetrable wall of forest. “Have you seen it?”

“No,” Evelyn lied.

“Maybe it is gone.”

Evelyn bobbed her head at their meager firewood. “I have to gather more or the fire will go out.”

“I will help,” Bright Rainbow offered.

“It is safer for you here.”

“I am too afraid to be alone. I will carry a burning stick so you can see.”

Evelyn would have her hands full with her rifle and the firewood. She couldn’t hold a torch, too. “If I agree, you are to do exactly as I say. If I tell you to run, you run.”

“I will not leave you. I would rather die than be alone again.”

“Enough of that kind of talk.” Evelyn slid her hunting knife from its sheath. “To protect yourself with. Go for the eyes.”

The girl took it and lightly pricked her finger with the tip and ran the same finger along the edge. “It is very sharp.”

“A dull knife doesn’t do much good.” Evelyn rose. “We should go while the flames are still high.”

Bright Rainbow chose a brand. She held it out in front of her and clenched the knife tight. “I am ready.”

The forest was ominously silent.

Her skin rippling with dread, Evelyn crossed to the woods. Bright Rainbow’s arm rubbed her with every step. She spotted a downed limb, but it was too thick for her to break apart. Stepping over it, she went around a pine. The brand hissed and gave off smoke that tingled her nose. “Try not to hold that so close to my face.”

“Sorry.”

Evelyn roved past a thicket wide enough to hide the mountain lion. She kept the Hawken leveled, just in case.

“The Devil Cat is near,” Bright Rainbow whispered breathlessly. “I can feel him.”

Evelyn told her to be quiet. But she could feel the cat’s presence, too. She looked for eye shine.

“There,” Bright Rainbow said, and pointed with the knife. “Plenty of firewood.”

Fallen limbs littered the ground at the base of a dead tree. Evelyn stooped to grab one and a growl rumbled out of the darkness. Straightening, she jammed the Hawken to her shoulder. “Where is it?” The growl had seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“I do not know.” Bright Rainbow’s voice quaked with terror. “We should go back.”

“We need the wood.” Evelyn hastily scooped up several pieces of a thick limb and turned to retrace their steps.

The eyes were behind them. The mountain lion was between them and the clearing. It couldn’t have been more than twenty feet away.

“God, no,” Evelyn said. She dropped the firewood and snapped the Hawken to her cheek. “I have you now.” She fired. At the boom of the shot the eyes rose straight into the air and came down again, and blinked out. Drawing a flintlock, Evelyn shouted, “Stay by my side!” and charged forward. She came to the spot where she thought the eyes had been and cast about for sign and found it in the form of bright scarlet drops on the grass and the leaves. “I hit it!” she exulted.

“But where did it go?”

Evelyn turned in a complete circle. “I don’t know.” She had hit it, yes, but there wasn’t much blood, which might mean she’d only nicked it. And a wounded meat-eater was always more dangerous. Her father had warned her of that since she was old enough to hold a gun.

A snarl rent the air.

Evelyn spun but saw only dark undergrowth and trees. With its black coat, the mountain lion was practically invisible. It could spring at them at any moment. “We’re going back,” she declared, and retreated toward the clearing.

“What about the firewood?”

“Leave it,” Evelyn said. Their lives weren’t worth the risk. She was relieved when they emerged into the open but not so happy at how low the fire had burned. Another ten minutes or so and it would go out, plunging them in darkness and leaving them vulnerable.

“I am scared,” Bright Rainbow said.

So was Evelyn, but as her father always impressed on her, she was a King and the Kings never gave up. Where there was a will, there was a way, he liked to say. She stood with her back to the fire and commenced to reload her rifle.

Bright Rainbow cast the brand into the fire and gripped the hilt of the knife in her small hands. “The Devil Cat will kill us.”

“Stop talking like that.” Evelyn was trying to load and watch the woods at the same time, and she spilled some powder.

“There is only one safe place. The hole where I hid after it killed my father.”

“No.” Evelyn felt the best place to make their stand was in the open where they could see the mountain lion coming and have room to move.

“It is big enough for both of us.”

“No, I said.”

“You can kill the Devil Cat if it tries to crawl in after us.”

Without thinking Evelyn snapped, “Did you listen to your mother as poorly as you listen to me?”

Bright Rainbow’s scarecrow frame slumped in sorrow. “I always did as my mother asked.”

“Then do the same with me.”

“You are not my mother,” Bright Rainbow said, and with that, she snatched another brand from the fire, whirled, and ran toward the forest.

“Get back here!” Evelyn hollered, but the girl ignored her and plunged into the Stygian mire.

Evelyn raced after her, fully aware of the mistake they were making. “Come back!” she tried again.

As fleet as an antelope, Bright Rainbow didn’t heed. The burning brand rose and dipped and weaved right and left as she avoided obstacles.

“Please!” Evelyn reckoned the girl was trying to reach her hidey-hole before the torch went out. Something compelled her to look over her shoulder, and her breath caught in her throat. A black blur was crossing the clearing in a beeline after them. The mountain lion had given chase.

Fear clutched at Evelyn’s heart. The cat could see in the dark and she couldn’t. It would catch up and spring on her. She ran another dozen strides and stopped and spun. Better to face it, she reasoned, than have it take her from behind. She never heard a sound, yet suddenly there it was, a darker black than the night itself, its eyes glinting in the starlight. Evelyn swallowed and brought the Hawken up just as the mountain lion sprang. She had no time to cock it. A heavy blow to her left shoulder spun her halfway around and pain spiked her body clear down to her toes. A raking forepaw had slashed her. She turned to confront the beast, but the mountain lion hadn’t stopped.

It was after Bright Rainbow.

“No!” Evelyn cried, and sprinted madly to the girl’s aid. She didn’t shoot. She couldn’t hold the rifle steady enough to be sure of bringing the mountain lion down. “Bright Rainbow!” she screamed. “Look out!”

The girl heard her—and stopped. She raised the brand just as an ebony form arced through the air. She was smashed to the ground and the burning brand fell next to her.

“Noooooo!” Evelyn hurtled forward. She saw the mountain lion straddling Bright Rainbow, saw the girl frozen in dread. Suddenly stopping, Evelyn sighted down the barrel, and fired. She rushed the shot, but she scored; blood spurted from the monster cat’s flank. With an unearthly screech, the mountain lion spun toward her, its tail flailing like a whip. She thought it was going to charge her, but instead it wheeled and bounded into the undergrowth.

Bright Rainbow didn’t move.

In a spurt of speed Evelyn reached her. The girl’s eyes were closed and blood oozed from half a dozen slash marks. Evelyn dropped to a knee. “Bright Rainbow?”

She showed no signs of life.

Evelyn gripped her arm and shook. “Bright Rainbow? Answer me.”

The girl’s eyes opened, twin mirrors of utter and total fear. She trembled and whimpered.

Evelyn shook her harder. “Snap out of it! We must run or the cat will get us both.”

Bright Rainbow’s eyes weren’t on Evelyn; they were fixed blankly on the heavens. Tears trickled from their corners.

“Listen to me!” Evelyn demanded, and when that got no reaction, she slapped her.

A sharp intake of breath, and Bright Rainbow calmed. She pressed a hand to her cheek and said in a tiny voice, “You hit me.”

“I’ll do it again if you don’t get up. How badly are you hurt?”

“I was clawed a little,” the girl said.

Evelyn pulled her to her feet. “This hole of yours. How far is it?”

“We are close.”

The brand was almost out. Evelyn grabbed it and held it higher so the breeze lent the flames new life. “Take me. Hurry. And carry this for me.” She shoved the Hawken at her. There was no time to reload. She drew a pistol.

Bright Rainbow just stood there. “My mother never hit me.”

“I am not your mother. I am your friend. And I am trying to keep us both alive.” Evelyn pushed her. “Now run.”

“Friends do not hit friends,” Bright Rainbow said, but she turned and made off through the pines and spruce and scattered oaks. She was limping.

“What is wrong with your leg?”

“I twisted my ankle when the Devil Cat jumped on me.”

“Stop calling it that. It is a mountain lion. A black mountain lion but only a mountain lion. It can be killed like any other.”

“You are wrong, Blue Flower. My father stabbed it and it did not die. You have shot it with your thun-derstick and it did not die. The Devil Cat cannot be hurt like we can.”

“I made it bleed. And anything that bleeds can die. Now hush and get us there.” Evelyn needed to listen for the painter. Not that she would hear it if it didn’t want her to. She remembered to cock the flintlock. As heavy as it was, she held it in both hands.

Bright Rainbow’s “not far” turned out to be a quarter of a mile. Every step was an agony of suspense. Evelyn never knew but when a heavy body would smash into her and fangs and claws would rip and rend. The forest thinned and ended, and above was a slope covered by a jumble of rocks and boulders. Bright Rainbow headed for the largest boulder. She stopped and pointed. At its base was a dark cavity not much wider than she was.

“There.”

“Inside. Hurry.” Evelyn faced down the mountain. The brand was almost out. Its light barely reached the trees, but it was enough; two malevolent eyes stared up at her.

From out of the hole came a muffled “I am in.”

Evelyn crouched and leaned the brand against a rock. She went to all fours and scrambled backward, sliding her feet and then her legs into the hole and easing the rest of her after. The blazing eyes swept toward her. She levered her elbows and found herself in a dank hole barely long enough and wide enough for her and the girl both. They were pressed close together. She could move her arms but little else. She trained the muzzle on the opening and waited.

From outside came a growl. A shadow passed across the hole, but the mountain lion didn’t look in.

Evelyn prayed it would so she could send a ball crashing into its brain. Suddenly the light faded. The brand had gone out. Tense with apprehension, she held the flintlock steady. But the mountain lion was either too shrewd or too wary to try to get at them. Nothing happened, and after a while she wondered if it was out there.

“Blue Flower?” Bright Rainbow whispered.

“Not now.”

“Thank you,” Bright Rainbow said quietly.

Evelyn looked at her. “You are welcome. Now be still.” She focused on the opening and only the opening. No sounds drifted in save now and then the faraway yip of a coyote. Her shoulders ached and her arms grew weary from holding the pistol. Over an hour had gone by when she let the muzzle dip and winced at the pain in her shoulders. “I think it has gone.” She broke their long silence.

“Or it is waiting for us to crawl out.”

“That could be,” Evelyn admitted. “Which is why we are staying put until daylight.”

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” Bright Rainbow said.

Something in the girl’s voice prompted Evelyn to ask, “Are you all right?”

“I am tired and dizzy.”

“Dizzy?” Evelyn repeated. “Why?”

“Maybe from all the blood.”

“Your side wasn’t bleeding that badly,” Evelyn recollected.

“Not my side, my back. The Devil Cat clawed me there, too, as I fell. I think its claws went deep.”

“Let me see.” Evelyn slid her hand over the dirt and groped the girl’s arm and shoulder and slid it down her back. She felt rips in the buckskin, and her questing fingers brushed deep cuts. The cat’s claws had gone in an inch or more. She pried at the dress and realized it was soaked. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“We had to get in here or it would hurt you, too.”

“Consarn you,” Evelyn said in English.

“It hurts.”

Evelyn eased her hand out and wiped it on her dress. The smell of fresh blood mixed with the scent of the dirt. “There is nothing I can do until morning.”

“I understand.”

Evelyn bit her lower lip. The girl needed stitching. Worse, if dirt got into the wounds, they might become infected. “Let me know if you start to feel worse.”

There was no answer.

“Bright Rainbow?”

“I am sleepy.”

Evelyn touched the girl’s cheek. It was as cold as ice. She tried to remember everything her mother had told her about flesh wounds. Where was her mother? Why weren’t her parents there yet? Dega had had plenty of time to get to King Valley and come back. She debated leaving their sanctuary so she could tend to Bright Rainbow’s wounds, but it would be folly with the black beast lurking close by. “I hate this,” she said out loud. She figured it couldn’t be long until daybreak. If only the girl could last that long.

The minutes were eternities. Evelyn’s eyelids grew heavy and twice her chin drooped, but each time she jerked her head up and shook the need to sleep away. She was terribly uncomfortable and her body became stiff and cold. She could only imagine how much worse Bright Rainbow must feel.

In the woods below a finch warbled.

Evelyn perked her ears. Birds always greeted the new day with a chorus of cries, and sure enough, the finch’s warble was the signal for dozens more to break into song and for jays to utter raucous shrieks. Holding the pistol in front of her, she edged to the opening. To the east a pink tinge marked the break of the new day. Below, the slope was empty. Shadow shrouded the forest. The mountain lion was gone. Or it could be that that was what it wanted her to think. Regardless, she wriggled out of the hole and onto her knees. Her legs were so stiff she could hardly move them.

One eye on the forest, Evelyn reached back in for the Hawken. She hurriedly reloaded and slid the pistol under her belt. Now came the dangerous part. Setting the rifle down, she poked her arms and head into the hole and took hold of the little Tukaduka. “Bright Rainbow?”

The girl didn’t stir.

“Bright Rainbow, can you hear me?” Evelyn shook her. When that failed to provoke a reply, she bunched her shoulders and pulled. It took some doing. She had to tug and twist, but she got the girl out and laid her on her back. “Bright Rainbow?” She moved her chin back and forth. All the girl did was groan.

Evelyn would never know what made her look over her shoulder. Some sixth sense, maybe. The sight of the black mountain lion slinking silently toward her with its chin practically brushing the ground sent her blood to racing. Its fiery eyes locked on hers. Mesmerized, she couldn’t move. She saw its paws flex, and then, with a scream that set her neck hairs to prickling, it launched itself at her. She grabbed for the Hawken but got hold of it by the barrel and not the stock. In self-preservation she swung with all her strength.

Struck full in the face, the mountain lion fell onto all fours. Evelyn staggered against the boulder. The lion snarled and crouched to spring, and she raised her rifle to swing again. For a span of heartbeats they were statues—and then there was a buzz and a thwunk and the mountain lion leaped into the air with a feathered shaft jutting from its side. It landed and spun and screeched in rage. A second shaft missed it by the width of one of its whiskers. With another earsplitting scream, it bounded toward the trees.

Up the slope ran a figure clad in green. He had another shaft nocked and raised his bow, but the cat gained cover before he could let fly. He stopped a few feet from Evelyn and gave her a look of such worry and devotion, her heart melted.

“Dega!”

“Evelyn.” Dega opened his arms and she stepped into them. For a moment he forgot about the cat and the girl at their feet. His joy was boundless. He had run all through the night, driving himself to the point of exhaustion and beyond. His legs were welters of torment and his lungs hurt with every breath.

Evelyn stepped back. “Where are my father and mother?”

Dega told her about his horse, and how he’d had a decision to make: continue on foot and not get back to her until much later than she expected or return to help her get the girl to King Valley. “I hope you not mad,” he said breathlessly. “I come back to you.”

“Mad?” Evelyn said, and couldn’t say any more for the constriction in her throat. She saw that his buckskins were drenched and that he was red in the face, and panting. “You big lunkhead. Why would I be mad?”

Dega was shocked. A lunkhead, Shakespeare McNair had told him, was someone who had, as McNair put it, “rocks between their ears.” Implying they were stupid. “I have rocks in head?”

“What? Oh, no, no, no.” Evelyn forgot herself and kissed him on the neck and the cheek. “You did exactly right.”

Dega thought his chest would explode. All night he had thought about how much he cared for her. All night he had been thinking about their argument and his mother, and he had come to a decision. “I want you know, our children be Nansusequa and white.”

“Oh, Dega.” Evelyn woud have lavished more kisses on him, but just then Bright Rainbow groaned. Bending, she slid her arms under her and picked her up. “We have to get her to the clearing. Guard me.”

Dega would die for her if he had to. That was another conclusion he had come to. When they got home he would sit down with his mother and explain his feelings. She had always been so caring and considerate, he was sure she would understand.

Bright Rainbow weighed more than Evelyn reckoned. Huffing, she got her to the bottom of the slope and merged with the woods. The sky had brightened and the shadows were dispersing.

Dega trailed her, protecting her, the bowstring pulled back, ready to loose a shaft at the first sign of the black mountain lion.

Evelyn tripped over an exposed root and firmed her hold on Bright Rainbow. A lot of birds were still singing. A rose-red grosbeak with black wings and a black tail flew over them, its brown mate at its side. She skirted several alders and spied the clearing and turned her head to tell Dega just as a sable battering ram launched itself out of a thicket and slammed into him from the side. She screamed his name and bent to deposit the girl.

Dega had caught movement out of the corner of his eye and tried to turn, but he wasn’t quick enough. Pain shot up his arm and along his side, and he was knocked against a pine and fell. Suddenly he was face-to-snarling-face with the cat, its forepaws on his chests, its fangs gaping wide to close on his throat. He jammed the bow into its mouth and razors opened his fingers. Before he could draw his hand away, the cat bit down. The pain was more than he could bear, and he cried out.

In fear for Dega’s life, Evelyn fired from the hip. At that range she couldn’t miss; the slug cored the lion’s side. In a flash the cat spun and was on her, slashing in a fury. She retreated and her heel caught on Bright Rainbow and down she sprawled.

Dega’s left hand was useless. The cat had bitten clean through it. He drew his knife, and as the beast pounced on Evelyn, he dived and stabbed, seeking to turn it from her so it would attack him. He succeeded; it did.

Evelyn’s senses reeled from a blow to the head. Her dress was torn and she was bleeding, but all that mattered to her was the sight of Dega on the ground with the black mountain lion tearing at him in a frenzy. Clutching her flintlocks, she thumbed back both hammers as she drew. Dega was stabbing and the mountain lion was biting and clawing. She threw herself full length and rammed both muzzles against the mountain lion’s head. The cat started to rise and turn toward her. She fired both pistols at once.

The black mountain lion arched its face to the sky. Only half was left, and the lone eye seemed to fix on the moon. It yowled and collapsed.

In the silence that followed, Evelyn rose on unsteady legs. The cat had fallen across Dega and neither was moving. “Dega?” She pushed, but the mountain lion was too heavy. “Dega, talk to me.”

“What you want me say?”

“You’re alive!”

“I think so.”

Evelyn laughed giddily. She pushed, and Dega pushed, and together they rolled the black beast off. Grimacing, he sat up and looked down at himself. His green buckskin shirt and pants were shredded, and he had been sliced and cut all over.

“You’re bleeding.” Evelyn stated the obvious. So was she.

“I live.” Dega got his moccasins under him, and stood. “I help you.”

It took the two of them to carry Bright Rainbow the rest of the way. They placed her near the embers and Evelyn rekindled the fire. She was weak and strangely sluggish yet elated to be breathing. “How are you holding up?”

Since all Dega had in his hands was his knife and it wasn’t at all heavy, he said, “I holding fine.”

A rumbling like thunder drew Evelyn’s gaze down the valley. Two riders were galloping toward them, and one of the riders was leading a buttermilk. “Ma and Pa and Buttercup!” she exclaimed.

Dega grunted. “I forget tell you. I see your horse. It run by me. I try to catch but it faster than my feet.”

“Buttercup must have gone all the way home and they started out after us right away,” Evelyn deduced. “Pa must have tracked us by torchlight most of the night.” She clasped her hands and laughed for joy. “Everything will be all right. Ma is good at healing. She’ll help us and have Bright Rainbow on the mend in no time. Isn’t that great?”

Dega remembered an expression her brother liked to use. He hoped it fit the occasion. “Just dandy,” he said.