at ever increasing velocity. It lifted the Rattler’s tail and mane and flattened them like blown over grass. There was a burning smell the wind carried and it filled his nostrils.
He pulled up and waited for the men to ride in. Their hats were torn from their heads and their buttons undone by the wind. Then Extra Billy rode in, ransacked and steadfast, bringing up the rear, ushering in the failing riders. One of his eyes was closed and other was weeping for the dust blown into it.
Napoleon was shamed to have run to save himself. He was shamed by this man’s ignorant loyalty and the responsibility it conferred. He stepped the Rattler horse to his side as if to talk, but he simply wanted to be close to the man if only for a moment. As he came alongside Extra Billy’s horse, its tail suddenly flickered and snapped and it happened again with a crackle and then the horse’s mane began to light and dance in the air. A jagged spear of light connected them and they were stung and shocked by its viciousness.
He reached for the Springfield and when he touched the steel he was jolted again by another charge of static electricity. Their dull and lusterless metals began to glow with a bluish white light as if hot cadmium adorned them and in the exchange of current they were flush with radiance.
Blue sparks began coming off all their metals and stinging them in their hands and arms and causing their teeth to grind. The energy of static electricity made by the scraping motes of sand, unable to ground out, was crackling and hissing and discharging all about them into the dry air and they glowed, and as the others gathered around them, their fields connected and they were all for a time lit this way, blue and white and awed inside the storm.
9
H E CALLED FOR THEM to follow and made a nicking sound and the Rattler broke for full gallop, hocks beneath, forehand lightened and body extended. The surge was instant and if he’d not called it up himself it would have left him sitting in the dirt.
The horse seemed to turn of its own accord into the canyon wall and down a long stony corridor overhung with cliffs. It was a giant space they were entering, but he knew it was not as it appeared. He knew they were being directed and it was by intention they were riding into this place and any slim hope for escape in the storm was gone.
To his right was a first outcropping of rock and then there was one to the left and behind it were armed men. Then the right wall began to rise and even more abruptly the left wall shot up from the desert floor and the corridor began to narrow. The trail twisted and wound among the rocks with high rock walls necking and rising overhead and seemed a strange, critical entrance into another world. The shadows deepened and joined as they continued into the funnel’s spout, the storm raging down its walls.
There would be no escape. They continued on into the canyon and the canyon walls closing on them, as if into an hourglass they were blown with the sand by the wind. He knew at the next turn or the next there would be no opening but a wall of stone, and no way out. He looked back with bewilderment into the storm of wind and sand. Where did it go wrong? What should he have seen that he did not see? He was angry with himself. Try as he might he could not have turned the advantage. If he’d attempted to break through they would have been shot to pieces. His only course was to hold off death as long as he could. He set his teeth.
By now there was not much left in man or horse. He’d held off as long as he could and he could not dwell on possibility any longer. It was time for the coming conclusions. Already the horses were tightening up, their loins and croups stiffening with agony after so extended and fast a trip they’d endured. Soon they would have difficulty moving and stop and collapse, or they would trip, or their legs would buckle and they’d go down, their eyes mystified by the dull hollows of
He pulled up and waited for the men to ride in. Their hats were torn from their heads and their buttons undone by the wind. Then Extra Billy rode in, ransacked and steadfast, bringing up the rear, ushering in the failing riders. One of his eyes was closed and other was weeping for the dust blown into it.
Napoleon was shamed to have run to save himself. He was shamed by this man’s ignorant loyalty and the responsibility it conferred. He stepped the Rattler horse to his side as if to talk, but he simply wanted to be close to the man if only for a moment. As he came alongside Extra Billy’s horse, its tail suddenly flickered and snapped and it happened again with a crackle and then the horse’s mane began to light and dance in the air. A jagged spear of light connected them and they were stung and shocked by its viciousness.
He reached for the Springfield and when he touched the steel he was jolted again by another charge of static electricity. Their dull and lusterless metals began to glow with a bluish white light as if hot cadmium adorned them and in the exchange of current they were flush with radiance.
Blue sparks began coming off all their metals and stinging them in their hands and arms and causing their teeth to grind. The energy of static electricity made by the scraping motes of sand, unable to ground out, was crackling and hissing and discharging all about them into the dry air and they glowed, and as the others gathered around them, their fields connected and they were all for a time lit this way, blue and white and awed inside the storm.
9
H E CALLED FOR THEM to follow and made a nicking sound and the Rattler broke for full gallop, hocks beneath, forehand lightened and body extended. The surge was instant and if he’d not called it up himself it would have left him sitting in the dirt.
The horse seemed to turn of its own accord into the canyon wall and down a long stony corridor overhung with cliffs. It was a giant space they were entering, but he knew it was not as it appeared. He knew they were being directed and it was by intention they were riding into this place and any slim hope for escape in the storm was gone.
To his right was a first outcropping of rock and then there was one to the left and behind it were armed men. Then the right wall began to rise and even more abruptly the left wall shot up from the desert floor and the corridor began to narrow. The trail twisted and wound among the rocks with high rock walls necking and rising overhead and seemed a strange, critical entrance into another world. The shadows deepened and joined as they continued into the funnel’s spout, the storm raging down its walls.
There would be no escape. They continued on into the canyon and the canyon walls closing on them, as if into an hourglass they were blown with the sand by the wind. He knew at the next turn or the next there would be no opening but a wall of stone, and no way out. He looked back with bewilderment into the storm of wind and sand. Where did it go wrong? What should he have seen that he did not see? He was angry with himself. Try as he might he could not have turned the advantage. If he’d attempted to break through they would have been shot to pieces. His only course was to hold off death as long as he could. He set his teeth.
By now there was not much left in man or horse. He’d held off as long as he could and he could not dwell on possibility any longer. It was time for the coming conclusions. Already the horses were tightening up, their loins and croups stiffening with agony after so extended and fast a trip they’d endured. Soon they would have difficulty moving and stop and collapse, or they would trip, or their legs would buckle and they’d go down, their eyes mystified by the dull hollows of
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