Rated R. Contains lots of alcohol, some death, and some undeath.
by Ysabeau S. Wilce
When Pow walks into the hog ranch, everyone turns to stare at shim. At the whist table, the muleskinner gurgles and lets fall his cards. The cardsharp’s teeth clatter against the rim of his glass. The cowboy squeaks. At the bar, the barkeep, who had been fishing flies out of the pickle jar, drops her pickle fork. On the bar, the cat, a fantastic mouser named Queenie, narrows her moon-silver eyes into little slits. At the pianny, Lotta, who’d been banging out Drink Puppy Drink on the peeling ivory keys, crashes one last chord and no more.
Even the ice elemental, in the cage suspended over the whist table, ceases his languid fanning. He’s seen a lot of boring human behavior since the barkeep brought him from a junk store in Wal-nuts to keep the hog ranch cool; finally a human has done some- thing interesting. Only Fort Gehenna’s scout doesn’t react. He wipes his nose on a greasy buckskin sleeve, slams another shot of mescal, and takes the opportunity to peek at his opponents’ cards.
The bar-room is dead silent but for a distant slap and a squeal—Buck and the peg-boy in the back room exercising—and the creak of the canvas walls shifting in the ever-present Arivaipa wind.
About the Author
Ysabeau S. Wilce is an author of young adult fantasy novels. Her novels feature the rebellious young heroine Flora Fyrdraaca and her adventures in the fictional land of Califa. She has traveled the world and lived in San Francisco, Anchorage, Miami, Mexico City, Madrid, Los Angeles, Maryland, Phoenix, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn. She has a graduate degree in military history and lives in San Francisco.