Westie headed in that direction but stopped when she saw the werewolf innkeeper, her pup draped across her arms like a wet shirt. When Westie approached, the wolf woman growled.
“It’s all right,” Westie said, slowly pulling her last gold coin from her pocket. “I just want to show him something.”
The innkeeper’s face was taut with suspicion, but her shoulders relaxed and she gave Westie a curt nod.
“Want to see a trick?” Westie said to the boy. His face was flushed, but his lips were pale as bone. He looked at her without turning his head.
Taking the coin in her machine, Westie began rolling it across the knuckles of her metal fingers, back and forth in both directions, faster and faster. The boy sat up, mesmerized by the trick, a smile forming on his dry, peeling lips.
Westie smiled too, smoothing down the sweaty hair that stuck out in all directions on his head, and handed the coin to him. She wasn’t sure if there was magic left in the gold, or if that was even how it worked, but it was worth a try. “That’s a lucky coin. Keep it close now, you hear? Don’t ever let it go.”
When Westie turned to go look for Costin, she found him only feet away, watching her.
“What’s happening?” she asked as she approached him. His skin was the color of stone, his face and hair wet with perspiration.
“A brief illness. Creatures get sick too, you know.” It was true, but they never got sick all at once. Every species of creature was built differently, and each had their own afflictions. Westie couldn’t think of a single illness that affected them all the same—until now.
She looked up into the sky, her gaze sailing across the dome. There were several large holes in the membrane where the sky seemed to shine brighter.
“But there are rumors going around,” Costin said, “about the Wintu spirits being angry and letting the dome collapse. Humans are afraid. One of my guards heard some men in the saloon talking about how they should start killing off creatures before we have the chance to kill them. Some of my fellow creatures believe the humans have found a way to poison us.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh? Do you know something I don’t?”
Westie didn’t want to tell him the truth about magic disappearing. If that information found its way to the wrong ears, it could have devastating consequences. She had to make people believe the Wintu were still in control.
“Spread your own rumors. People already know that settlers once made a deal with the Wintu. Tell them as long as folks stayed out of the Wintu’s sacred sites, the Wintu would protect this town from creatures.” Costin rolled his eyes and started to speak, but Westie pressed on. “People aren’t keeping up their end of the bargain. Convince them to stop mining and leave Devil’s Crag, and I’ll make sure the Wintu keep the dome up.”
“Is that the truth?” he asked.
No, she thought, but it should buy enough time for Nigel to get Emma up and running before magic disappears for good.
Westie tried to roll her emotions in a ball and put them away. If Costin saw the anguish she felt, he’d know she was hiding something. She pulled the handkerchief from her bodice to wipe his forehead. “Yes,” she said.
“Careful.” Costin took her by the hand, caressing her fingers before kissing her knuckles. “You don’t want to get too close.”
“I’m not worried about falling ill,” she said.
Everything about him moved slowly from sickness, even his smile. “Perhaps not, but you should be worried about falling in love.”
Westie laughed for a brief moment before sadness choked off the sound. “I need to go.” She put a hand to his face and wiped a bead of sweat from his cheek. He was warm to the touch. “You take care now.”
In front of Nigel’s mansion, Wintu horses stood lipping at the tall grass in the yard. Their riders were clustered beneath trees. The Wintu were a stoic people, but their faces looked more serious than she’d ever seen them before.
They nodded as she passed. Bena and Big Fish stood with Nigel on the porch, deep in conversation. They stopped talking when they saw her.
“The magic, it’s getting worse, isn’t it?” she asked.
Bena touched Westie’s hair, twisting at her locks. It was a tactic she’d used to soothe her as a child, but it wasn’t working. “It’s not as bad as it seems,” Bena assured her.
Westie looked at Big Fish for a second opinion, but it was difficult to read her expression through her wrinkled flesh.
“It seems pretty damn bad to me,” Westie said. “Have you seen the creatures lately? They’re sick. And now rumors are being spread. There’s talk of an attack. Folks might start killing off creatures first if magic doesn’t get around to it. We need to find a way to fix the dome.”
Nigel didn’t look too good either, but Westie knew it was because of worry and lack of sleep. “With all the mining in the iron hills and the prospectors taking gold from Devil’s Crag, magic is a little scarce in this area at the moment. We’ll find a way to get it back,” he said.