“Get the horses,” she said. Her eyes dropped only for a moment, but it was long enough for one of the men to bring up a pistol in a swift blur of silver. There was a puff of smoke and a pop; a bullet sliced like a red-hot knife across her upper arm.
Pain seared her. Her arm fell slack, though somehow she managed to keep hold of the rifle stock. Dag roared and rushed forward, grabbed a handful of the gunman’s shirt, threw him like a bundle of sticks. Other men piled onto him; he lashed out at them, fists and elbows flying.
Emily clutched her arm, hot blood leaking through her fingers. Jumping to his feet, Stanton looked into her eyes.
“Can you ride?” he might have asked, but Emily’s heart was thundering in her ears and her head was spinning. Stanton threw Emily’s good arm around his shoulder, and dragged her toward Dag’s buckboard. He lifted her into the back, then took the rifle from Emily’s slack hand. He then turned back to where Dag was still brawling with the Scharfians.
“Hansen!” Stanton yelled, indicating Emily with a curt jerk of his head. Dag threw one last punch before rushing back to the buckboard and Emily.
Stanton, however, was not finished. Sighting down the rifle’s barrel, he stormed toward the men, teeth bared.
“Get away from my horses!”
The men scattered quickly, leaving Furness to glare at Stanton, his gaze fixed and dark. As Stanton unhitched Romulus and Remus, his aim did not waver from the preacher’s heart.
“The righteous will prevail,” Furness murmured, as Stanton swung up onto Remus’ back.
Emily felt the buckboard rock as Dag jumped into the driver’s seat and slapped the leads, his near-panicked horses leaping forward almost out of their harness. Behind them, Stanton and his Morgans galloped in a cloud of dust, and Emily, looking at the brilliant red blood on her hand, lay back in the wonderfully soft marsh hay and passed out.
“What the hell have you done to her?”
The words swirled through Emily’s head, like a dream fading in morning light. But unlike a dream fading in morning light, these words kept getting louder.
“I haven’t done anything. The situation got out of hand …”
“The situation got out of hand? Damn you, Stanton! Her hair’s gone, she’s dressed like a man … and there are Army officers all over Lost Pine looking for her!”
Emily was still in the back of the buckboard, the smell of hay filling her nostrils. The air had grown cooler, and the sun was considerably lower in the sky than she remembered it. The wagon was not moving. The raised voices were coming from a little ways off.
“Army officers?” Stanton’s voice. “How many? Who is leading them?”
“A detachment of about thirty men, led by Captain John Caul.” Dag’s voice. “What in God’s name have you gotten Emily into?”
Emily’s arm ached. She brought fingers up to touch it. A cloth had been tied around it, and not particularly skillfully.
“We have to get her away from here as quickly as possible,” Stanton said.
“We aren’t doing anything,” Dag growled. “You’ve gotten her into enough trouble. What were you thinking, taking her to New Bethel? Everyone knows that’s a Witch-burning town! They would have burned her along with you, if they knew what she was! And they would have figured it out the minute they saw that rock in her hand.”
“I didn’t know what New Bethel was, or I never would have taken her there.” Stanton’s voice was low. “I don’t want to see her hurt any more than you do.”
“You’re a goddamned liar,” Dag snarled. “If you cared two pins about what’s best for Emily, you’d want to see her back safe in Lost Pine, where she belongs—”
“If she goes back to Lost Pine she’s as good as dead,” Stanton broke in angrily. “You saw the stone in her hand. That’s what Caul wants, and he won’t stop at killing to get it!”
Emily sat up carefully, hand on her head. She still felt dizzy. There was blood on the hay around her—her own blood. She looked around. Stanton’s horses were hitched nearby, switching their tails nervously.
The men did not notice her. Dag was staring at Stanton, fists clenched.
“That’s not what Captain Caul says,” Dag said. “He says the stone is a valuable magical artifact. He says you’re just using Emily to get it for yourself. For your institute. He says that you’re the criminal, hindering a servant of the public good