get it?” asked the Hunter.
“Nope,” the sheriff replied, shaking his head. “You trying to get them to come after you again?”
“Don’t give me any special treatment. Bring me meals like usual, and question me like you ordinarily would. I won’t leave the place. Let word trickle out that I’ll be helping you.”
“Understood. You’ll be a great assistance. Thanks.”
D gazed quietly at the lawman’s smiling and carefree visage.
“Okay, let’s get right to it. We’re off, Lyra.”
“Just a second,” the warrior woman said, turning to D. “You said we just had to smoke one of them out. What do you mean by that?”
“Surely you know.”
“That there are several others lurking in town?”
“That’s the way they always work. If need be, they’ll enter a village a year in advance and earn the locals’ trust just so they can help the rest of the gang get in.”
“That’s been the downfall of many a village,” said Lyra.
She and the sheriff looked at each other and then left.
“They’re quite a pair,” the hoarse voice said to the Hunter. “What do you make of this?”
“I think he has a handle on it,” D said, looking in the direction of the window. “But soon there’ll be the scent of fresh blood in the air. That’ll be the test.”
“And that’s part of why he hired you? He’s got a strong sense of responsibility.”
“Yeah. And he got a great bargain.”
Chortling, the hoarse voice replied, “Oh, don’t say such things. You’re a sucker for folks like that.”
“Don’t think of him and the girl as a nice little couple, okay?”
“What?” the hoarse voice exclaimed, but it got no reply.
D’s eyes reflected the blue skies of summer. Perhaps to him they looked blood red.
—
“How are you doing?” Lyra called over to the sheriff from the back of her cyborg horse, which she rode alongside his vehicle as it progressed with the leisurely speed of a motorized tractor. They were on a path between the fields. Less than five minutes had passed since they left the sheriff’s office. Golden waves of barley rippled to either side of them. White clouds scudded across the heavens, and the forests were breathtakingly green. As it was summer, the clumps of trees were lush with foliage.
“You needn’t worry about it,” Rust replied.
“I hope so.”
“I’m fine—but wouldn’t it be better if I wasn’t?” Rust said, turning ever so slightly toward the warrior woman in crimson.
Lyra remained facing forward as she replied, “I suppose. Then I could conclude our business.”
Rust’s eyes were colored by a certain emotion. A sense of complete desolation. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
“It sure has.”
“But this is probably the end. I just have that feeling.”
“You said that four years ago in the village of Langel, too.”
Rust grinned wryly, scratching the back of his head. “Did I? Well, this time looks like it’ll really be it.”
Nothing from the warrior.
“If possible, I want you to finish me, Lyra. Just like we agreed.”
“When the time comes, I will—as agreed.”
Although his eyes had already shifted forward again, Rust could tell that Lyra had nodded. Her everyday expression was cold, but he knew it reflected a feeling as desolate as his own. Rust choked back the emotions rising in him, as he always did. He had a job to do as sheriff. At the very least, he’d have to ride along and check the wall around the village before nightfall.
Most of the sections of wall around the center of the village were man-made structures, but the section to the north was a natural feature—a wall of rock ten feet thick and over thirty feet high. It’d probably been thrust up by some ancient movement of the earth’s crust, and including the portion that remained buried, it had to weigh in the hundreds of millions of tons. This village was said to have much stronger defenses than any other, and they prided themselves on that northern