This fire, wild and free, called to me in a way my forge never did. My forge burned much hotter yet remained hidden and controlled, a tool to be used. Tongues of flame danced to the crackling beat made by burning wood. The wind pushed and twisted it from outside while our small pyre created its own currents lifting the flames even higher into the air. I stared at the fire as I fed it, unable to tear my eyes away from the unpredictable yet inviting dance.

  A pang of jealousy hit me toward the fire which could dance and make music while I had to struggle to be an engineer. The way I danced around the training grounds made my mother and father beam with joy. None of the other children I trained with could compete with me. Feeling those blades twirling and slicing in my hands always made me feel like a dancer.

  Then those blades became my nightmare.

  “Annie.”

  Issa’s voice woke me from my thoughts he tossed a pouch to me. Inside he’d prepared jerky and hardtack. Although not the best meal it would suffice for tonight.

  “What do you see in the flames?” Issa asked.

  I paused, placing the latest twig into the fire. “Beauty, warmth, light, freedom. More than that, really, but those are top of mind. Do you see anything?”

  Issa leaned back and tossed a twig into the flames. “I know this fire, if not tended, could set the entire prairie, and us, ablaze, or grow cold.”

  “Sounds poetic, passionate even,” I said.

  Isa shrugged. “It can be in one sense, I suppose.”

  “Why did you use a lucifer match to light the fire?” I lifted my head towards Issa.

  “Sometimes,” Issa took a bite of jerky and chewed slowly, “it’s nice to get the flames started quick. I believe it helps you focus on the fire better.”

  “I still use a tinderbox to start my forge fires.”

  “Very traditional of you.”

  “Not traditional enough,” I grumbled, lying back on my bedroll.

  “How’s that?” Issa looked at me across the fire.

  Telling Issa my father may have robbed his own warehouse with help from the native seemed like a fast way to get expelled as his apprentice. Still, not trusting him as a mentor would cause our working relationship to deteriorate. The flames drew me in again and this time, it felt as if part of their spirit entered me.

  “How do you deal with it when family disappoints you?”

  Issa angled his head to the sky. “Is this why you are so overly formal. You don’t want to disappoint your mother and be sent away?”

  Focusing on the stars helped me hide my surprise at Issa’s perceptiveness. A minute passed as my thoughts formed into coherent words. “No, I’m talking about times when you despise and condemn their choices but are guilty by association.”

  “Annie, all you can do is be who you are. Do what you love and do what’s right. What your family does or doesn’t do need not be your burden.”

  My spirit yearned for Issa’s words to be true. To be able to tell him all the thoughts and suspicions running through my mind would be freeing, but I didn’t have the luxury of that freedom.

  “You say that easily, Issa, but we know our worlds are different. What happens when what you do isn’t seen as right and what’s seen as right isn’t what you want to do,” I asked.

  Issa scratched his chin. “You will have to take those moments as they come to you. In that future moment, when those questions arise you must be sure of who you are and know yourself.”

  His words, though clear, left me wondering whether the warrior or the engineer was my true self.

  “Annie, I respect you, and although something deeper seems to be troubling you, please understand I can empathize with you. I have lectured in every country using steam power. Yet, I choose to make my life here in Texas, where my work has to be filtered through people like Cross, instead of my homeland because my father has made me feel weak because I lack ikè.”

  “What is ikè,” I asked.

  “It’s what we Igbo call the rune magic. I’ve felt like my father ran me off because I couldn’t be what he wanted.” Issa said.

  I never imagined Issa would open up to me especially on this trip. Going forward I’d follow my instincts and continue sharing with him and growing closer. One day we’d have to discuss my father’s shady dealings.

  “It’s nice to know I’ve found a kindred spirit, Issa.”

  Issa took another bite of jerky chewing slowly. “You’re an excellent partner, Annie, and I will teach and guide you the best I can.”

  The way he said my name brought back memories from the party, the kiss to my forehead, and the momentary jealousy when he took my mother’s hand. How such a small thing could generate those emotions bewildered me and I tamped them down. My focus had to be engineering.

  “Yes, Detective, we are birds of a feather. It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” The night sky to distracted me from my stray thoughts.

  Issa sighed. “The truth is, rumors had spread detailing a young Asian woman’s remarkable work before you came to me. If those rumors were true, I wanted you to become my apprentice. Although our struggles are different, I could understand your struggle to a degree. Our conversation has convinced me I made the right call bringing you on.”

  Tears stung my eyes as I stared at the pinpricks of light above me. There was no way I could bring myself to look at Issa. “I am honored, sir.”

  I hoped he couldn’t hear my voice cracking.

  He laid down and turned away from me. From where I lay, the firelight’s glow formed a halo around Issa’s head. As I watched him fall asleep, it occured to me Issa’s experiments were a way to bring his two halves together. I drifted off to sleep imagining how peaceful he must feel.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MORNING CAME AND we hurried to break camp. Issa worked to return our campsite to its natural state as I fed and watered the horses. Once they were I mounted my horse and eased my groaning muscles onto a makeshift cushion. Issa snorted with laughter seeing the bedroll under my bottom before gracefully sliding into the saddle. I squeezed my sore thighs around my horse and followed Issa as he led the way.

  The day warmed up to a pleasant temperature as we continued west. The land continued to shift into increasingly desert like conditions. I made sure to sip water slowly to conserve what I had as we journeyed to the Native settlement. The day grew long as Issa and I struck up periodic conversations about our work or the surrounding land. Mostly, we rode in silence. I considered the thief and wondered what connection he would have with my father. Men came to my parent’s home often but none were natives that I recalled. If my father just wanted to stop Issa’s experiments this wouldn’t work, we could get more parts. When we found this native he would need to explain his relationship with my father. Hopefully we found him before something worse happened.

  An earthy lemon scent wafted on the air, tickling my nose. It came and went for a half-hour before I heard the bubbling flow of a river. My mouth watered as the lemony scent grew stronger, and I wondered if this would be a good place to give the horses a drink.

  “Annie, once we cross the Concho river, we’ll see their settlement.” Issa Said.

  “I thought the natives were nomadic,” I said

  “Some, most aren’t now. The tribes’ traditions have evolved as the displaced eastern tribes have come west and been assimilated,” Issa said.

  We stopped at the river and watered the horses. It gurgled peacefully, and I took off my boots then dipped my feet into the cool water, wiggling my toes in the soft silt bottom. The horses flicked their tails at the buzzing insects as they sucked water.

  “I’d rather have a full belly before heading in. I see fish and mussels here. We can make a meal with those then head out.” Issa said.

  I nodded in agreement and watched him take off his boots and shirt and wade into the water. In minutes a dozen freshwater mussels lay on the riverbank. Once stacked on the shore, he stepped back into the river. Issa waded halfway across the river then stood hunched over with a rigid hand pointed towards the water. His empty hand shot down, resembling an arrow loosed from a bow. When it came back up, it held a fish. The creature wiggled back and forth as he walked it over to the riverbank and, using a nearby rock, bashed it over the head. The fish grew still. Issa went back into the river, and after two more attempts caught another fish, ending its struggles the same way.

  “Help me with a fire, please, Annie,” Issa said.

  I stood, wiping my feet off in the grass near the river. Barefooted, I walked around, gathering twigs and kindling as Issa cleared a space for a fire and created a makeshift spit. He cleaned our catch and slid fish chunks onto the spit prongs.

  Issa took the kindling from me and made a cooking fire in no time. In minutes the scent of roasting fish permeated the air. I lay back in the grass beside the fire watching as Issa turned the spit. Somthing about this pause didn’t seem right. Having a full belly before meeting the natives wouldn’t make a difference. The more it ran through my mind the more it sounded like an excuse.

  ”Why are you hesitant to keep going?” I asked.

  ”This place brings back memories I’d rather forget.”

  I sat up and turned myself towards Issa.” Memories of what?”

  Issa sighed.” At one point, I had Uranium Sickness. I almost died. This is my third time coming back since then, but each time brings back memories.”

  I nodded.” Nearly dying would scare anyone, Issa.”

  Issa shook his head. ”No, it wasn’t almost dying. I kept dreaming about using runes. Those dreams were how I realized runes could make steam.”

  “That’s some dream,” I said.

  ”In it I felt like I couldn’t die yet, like there was more for me to do. That could be my ego talking, though.” Issa chuckled.

  Issa pulled out the cube he’d used to find the finger marks. The thing still hurt to look at and I focused my eyes somewhere else.

  “Annie, would you like to see something interesting?” I heard a playful tone in Issa’s voice.

  “Yes, Detective, what do you have to show me?”

  Issa touched some patterns on the cube and released it. As before it spun but this time it transformed as it did turning into a sphere. It glowed yellow as it transformed, like a little sun. It continued spinning as the glow dimmed and I waited for something to happen.

  “Okay, it’s a sphere. What now,” I asked.

  Issa made a tsking sound. “Annie, look around you. I should have done this at the border.”

  Frowning, I did what Issa asked then stood as still as a rock. Even in daylight I could see glowing green symbols all around us. Scattered in small groupings intricate runes were carved into rocks, trees, and the ground itself. Even the campsite we sat at had small pebbles with runes all around.

  “When the cube becomes a sphere it illuminates all the runes in a ten foot radius. What you are seeing are the magic runes left by others in this area. If we were at the border the glow from the runes would be blinding.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. Although I knew runes were real, they’d never been this real. As children, Keo and I were taught only backwards people used runes and ignored steam technology. Now here they were, alive and well in this lush pristine land.

  Issa gave me a knowing small and turned the sphere back into it’s normal cube shape before putting it away.

  We finished our meal, and Issa fed the fire with the leftover bones. Tiny flame tendrils flitted up, releasing curls of smoke as the fish bones popped with small explosions. I listened to the rhythmless staccato crackles they made while my mind drifted. After the fire burned down, Issa dowsed the remaining embers with water from the river. Instead of clearing our camp, he made a little mark on the ground and placed two rocks next to it, then left the stone circle and the spit. He put another stone atop the remaining twigs and kindling before mounting his horse.

  “What’s that about?” I asked.

  “Well,” he stared into the sky, “We experienced a peaceful evening meal here. I left a message for the next person telling them they can use our camp and do the same.”

  “How do they know we aren’t bandits?” I pressed.

  “A bandit wouldn’t know the signs the tribes around here use for signaling. You have to be on good terms with them to know their markings.” Issa explained, grinning at me.

  We crossed the river, and ten minutes later, I could see smoke rising into the sky from the settlement. I kicked my horse up to a canter passing Issa. Issa caught me at full gallop, and it became a race to see who would get to the settlement first.

  Issa slid from the saddle and walked the horse after getting within twenty yards of the living structures. I followed suit watching the people staring at us. Some of the homes appeared to have been built from the surrounding earth. Almost as if the ground had been lifted up and hollowed out for the people. Other structures seemed to be woven together with wooden poles and branches. Yucca leaf had been applied to the outside, similar to shingles, along with a few skins.

  People spoke in hushed tones. Either way, I wouldn’t have understood these people, their language was different from those I knew. I realized word of our arrival must have spread quickly as an official looking group walked towards us.

  The people went on with their lives moving aside for the four men as they passed. I stood close to Issa as they approached, eying them with caution. Issa stood calmly, hand on the horse’s bridle, and waited.

  The shirtless men approaching wore bison skin pants. Their long hair reached the middle of their backs, with one having it braided in a long ponytail. As they grew closer, I saw pale scars scattered across each man’s toned and tanned body. The two oldest also showed age signs, wrinkles around the mouth and arms, but I couldn’t guess how old they were.

  Once the men stood before us, they spoke with Issa in a language I couldn’t understand. The man with the ponytail spoke next, and all five had a conversation before addressing me. Even then, Issa only pointed at me when giving the introduction. I understood “Annie” and nothing else.

  “Honored to meet you,” ponytail man said.

  “Honored to be in your presence,” I gave a little bow as is customary in Siam.

  The men chuckled and spoke with Issa some more. They began to walk away. Issa grabbed my arm, and we followed.

  “They are leading us to a hogan where we will wait for Chief Cochise,” Issa didn’t lower his voice.

  Once in the tent, we sat on blankets and waited.

  Close to twenty minutes after the tent closed, we still waited. “How long are we to sit here?” I asked.

  “Patience, we don’t demand an audience with the chief, he comes at his leisure. We’re uninvited guests.”

  An hour and a half later, the front flaps opened again, and a man shorter than I in stature yet commanding in presence stepped through the entrance. Issa stood and spoke again in the native tongue and introduced me once more.

  “Annie, this is Chief Cochise,” Issa said.

  I stood and bowed. “An honor to meet you, sir.”

  Cochise nodded. “I have never seen your people before.”

  “I am from Siam, sir, the Laotian province,” I said.

  “What is the location of Siam?” Cochise asked.

  “Far East, across the Atlantic Ocean, my family came here to start a new life and leave a war behind us.”

  Cochise examined my body and my posture. “You are made from the fight.”

  “I have some experience, yes.”

  Cochise nodded and regarded Issa. “Why do you come back to us?”

  Issa met Cochise’s eyes. “I need to know, have you seen a man who could move through walls without needing to draw a rune?”

  Cochise breathed deeply. “Through walls,” he tapped his thigh, “walls tainted by steam?”

  “Yes, I know it sounds impossible, but have you seen such a thing?” Issa said.

  “Soften walls, yes, tear down, yes, all on this side. All with runes.” Cochise paused, studying Issa. “Pass through walls with taint. It is not possible. Why you seek this man?” Cochise said.

  “This person has broken into my home and stolen from her father.” Issa pointed to me.

  Cochise’s eyebrows rose and fell in the span of a blink. I would have missed it if I’d not been intent on studying the man’s features. He looked back at the entrance to the tent, and the profile seemed familiar.

  “Maybe someone in your village has heard of this,” Issa said.

  “NO! You will not speak of this to my people. It is an ill omen,” Cochise held his jaw tight.

  Issa’s lips parted, and his eyes narrowed. “As you see fit.”

  The gears turned in Issa’s head and I wanted to know what he thought about Cochise’s outburst.

  “The freed men will be here soon to escort you to their village,” Cochise walked out of the tent.

  Issa turned to me. “It seems we have stumbled across a sore spot.”

  “What do you think it is?” I asked.

  “Annie, how would you react if clueless on a subject?”

  Cochise’s outburst played in my mind again as I searched it for meaning. Guilty people tended to do irrational things when caught but his surprise seemed genuine.

  Issa leaned in closer to me. “Annie, I believe Cochise reacted that way because something we said would embarrass him. What do you think that would be?”

  “You’re right. Maybe, after we see your people, we can come and ask questions around the village.” I said.

  “No, not likely. We are guest now, but if we disobey his wishes we’ll be enemies,” Issa said.

  “What then?” I asked.

  Issa sighed. “I didn’t want to go, but the people in Freed Man may know something regarding this situation.”

  “Why don’t you want to see them? I wish I could see someone from Siam here besides my family.”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain it later if we get the time.”

  “Ok, is their settlement like this?”

 

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