The two continued along the road to the tallest building in town, a rotting church house. Its steeple had no Christian cross sitting atop it. Instead, it was the swirling, rambling pattern that Lou had come to recognize. The very same icon which was burned into little Calvin Baird.

  “I can’t stand this dust, I really can’t.” Joe fumed, swiping again at his sleeve. “It really does keep you filthy! Think I should have these dry cleaned?”

  Louey didn’t answer, he was more focused on the two figures standing in the alleyway as they passed. Two men, their skin covered in a thick yellow paint and caked with dirt, with sacks over their faces. The sight disgusted him, desperate souls corrupted by a seemingly sadistic force. They stood in silence, watching as the Six-Guns passed by. He wondered what the answer was for these lost men as he approached their house of worship.

  Joe opened the door for his elder and the two stepped in. Both of them could feel the energy within as they crossed the threshold. This was a horrid place, the magical currents tainted here. The church was like a corpse floating in a river, souring the waters for everything downstream with rot. Pews lined up were painted yellow, reds and yellows covered the walls. The stained-glass windows were cloudy with filth, bathing the scene in a sickly glow. Men and women lay limp in and among the pews, dead or dying. The parishioners had been cut up in several places, their bodies the object of play for something evil. Those dead hung their heads, while those alive held looks of pain and ecstasy. Their eyes were coated in a yellow film.

  “These are the works of the wondrous Geld.” A voice called to them. “We have made this a sanctuary for the Angel of the King.”

  The pastor, in oddly clean tawny robes, emerged from behind the pulpit across from them. “We give to Geld, and here he takes his tithes. In exchange, he grants us grace in these terrible times.”

  Instantly, both Guns went Resolute. Louey found himself impressed at how far Tornado Joe had come. He felt they were almost equals at this point, and their cards reflected this. It wasn’t too long ago, to Louey, that his old friend Billy was toting around a clumsy little Joe. Yet next to him now was a full-fledged gunslinger, with the Resolve of a champion Diamond.

  This did not distract him from the horrific scene before him. What was once a house of peace and worship was now a horrible alter to depravity. Louey’s heart sank for these poor souls now lost. The true tragedy of these times was the desperation; in his Resolve Louey could never really escape it. People everywhere were in pain, hurting from poverty, sickness and famine. Such a great nation which had pressed on and secured a victory in the Great War only a few decades ago was now crippled with hardship. This colored the magical currents and affected his Resolve. But where he felt sadness, he knew Joe felt anger. It was the natural inclination of those dominated by Diamonds-type Resolve. He had to speak with his words before his companion spoke with his pistol.

  “Who is Geld?” Would you tell us about your Yellow King?”

  “It would be my honor to show you two members of Grady’s Posse the light.” The pastor smiled. His features were soft and loving. “Please, come and read of His book! This is a copy, but it contains His word all the same.”

  The Pastor picked up a book from the pulpit. Louey inspected it, it appeared to be bound in hide. As Louey stepped closer, he could see that it was actually bound in human flesh. He pursed his lips, his disgust rising. Emotional stability was core to his control, he stifled his instincts to shoot this pastor.

  “Of course…” The Pastor’s grin grew wide, taking on malice and glee, “The bounties of the Yellow King are never free. You must give yourself. To look upon this book, The Gargadash, is to accept those terms. I can shepherd you, as I have these enlightened souls.”

  Joe stayed at the door, trying hard to steady himself. He wanted to shoot the pastor so badly. He wanted to air this entire town out. With shaky hands he took a piece of chewing gum out of his pocket, unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. The herbs within were designed to recenter his Resolve, letting him calm down more effectively. He needed it, the Gellerite on his hip was starting to itch.

  Lou came up to him slowly, his boots squelching on the various bodily fluids coating the floorboards. The pastor smiled wide, eyes alight with a golden color. Lou placed a hand on the pastor’s shoulder.

  “I will take the book, my friend. And you can come with us too.” He returned the sunny smile. “I’m sure there’s a lot you can tell us. The Posse has great, though admittedly sometimes painful methods for getting information out of people.”

  Joe found himself struck by the discord between Lou’s warm tone and cold words. The man scared him at times.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  The pastor, understanding the sentiment, tried to back away. Lou’s grip was firm enough to keep him in place. The elder Six-Gun leaned in over the pastor’s shoulder and spoke into his ear, addressing whatever horrible force compelled the man.

  “You understand that you have lost this servant of yours?”

  His words, while quiet, were very heavy. Joe was reminded that Louey was a member of one of the Posse’s great families. Though a kind and good-natured person, Louis Richard Cobb had been bred and raised for violence.

  The pastor suddenly began to seize up and shake. Lou blinked and gripped him with both hands. The man was shaking more violently, wailing in agony. Louey backed up a step and raised the index and pointer fingers on his right hand together, forming the Rite of Release. He tried to sever whatever magical influence overtook the man with a Power Word.

  “Power Word: Sever!” He spoke the incantation in English. It was, however, spoken too late. The pastor’s head had swollen like a boil, his skull expanded. The head burst, spilling gore and bone fragments all over the pews and Louey. Joe watched from the doorway. Spitting out his gum, he felt glad he hadn’t taken charge.

  Lou grabbed the skin-bound book from the dead pastor’s hand. “Alright, fuck! Well we have this book anyways.” He turned to Joe, “I haven’t seen one of these before, but I have heard of it. It’s clear the greater forces at play here are aware of us now. We had better leave.”

  A woman’s scream broke Joe’s concentration. He looked over to the street. More dust blew in on the wind ahead of the coming storm, but he could see the bartender they had been talking to. She sprinted over, face red.

  “They came! They took Tyler!” She threw herself into Joe.

  Tornado Joe’s body started to itch, as if he had an allergic reaction to the young woman. There was no doubt in his mind that the reaction had something to do with the magic of a certain Green Coven witch.

  “Whoa! You alright?”

  “I’m fine, but the Yellowmen came in and took Tyler! You have to stop them! Please, misters, please!” Her eyes pleaded just as hard as her voice.

  She then noticed the bodies in the church. Her face went silk white and she slid to her knees. Louey picked her up.

  “We’ll find him, little miss. You just stay calm. I know it’s distressing.” He kept a low tone.

  “Company.” Joe kept his eyes trained on the figures approaching through the blowing dust. “Think it’s time to kick it off, Lou?”

  Louey dipped his head, still holding the barkeep. “Joe, you get to work. Don’t kill anybody you don’t have to. I’ll search for the boy.”

  “Thought you’d never let me off the leash.” Joe had already withdrawn a cigarillo from his shirt pocket.

  Louey let go of the barkeep, patting her shoulder. “Keep your head low, ok?”

  He took a knee and made his two-fingered hand sign, his eyes alight with Resolve. Holding his other eyes out, he closed his eyes for a moment. The barkeep watched in amazement as a puff of white smoke appeared on his arm. It waned away with the wind coming through the doorway, revealing two adult Peregrine Falcons.

  Louey had inherited an aptitude for the Cobb family Resolve spells and had over his life carefully cultivated them. The Cobb family was known for taming and summoning Familiars. Familiar study, in the American style, involved the taming of real-world animals. After an animal was sufficiently tamed, it could enter what was referred to as a Concord, a pact between the spirit of the animal and that of the sorcerer. From then, the spirit of the animal could be conjured at will by the sorcerer as a Familiar and would act in the world physically just like its actual host. The Familiar has to take energy from the sorcerer’s Resolve to manifest physically, so significant Resolve cultivation was needed for more complicated Familiars to be conjured.

  When the host animal of the Familiar spirit passed away, the Familiar would most likely pass on to the next plane of existence. However, particularly strong bonds between sorcerer and Familiar could keep the spirit in the realm of the living. Where Familiar study became more powerful was after the host animal passed away. Familiar spirits, having no host body, could be altered over time by the Resolve of the sorcerer they held a Concord with. This often resulted in gigantism and chimerism, giving particularly strong sorcerers access to increasingly elaborate and powerful Familiars.

  Lou Cobb’s unique interest in birds translated to his study of Familiar conjuration as well. All of his Familiars were birds. From the noble Red-Tailed Hawk to the tiny Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Lou had befriended and concorded with many avian creatures. At his age, he had access to a great many bird Familiars, including quite a few who had long passed away.

  “Say hello to Chalky and Screwball.” Lou tried to lift her spirits. “Screwball has a job to do.”

  Louey held the book, the Gargadash, out with his free hand. One of the falcons flapped about, taking off from Louey’s arm. She snatched the book in her talons and bolted off out the door. The Familiar was determined to beat the storm.

  “Chalky is gonna help me find Tyler.” He shook his arm and the other falcon screeched, flying out the door into the dust.

  Joe watched this, a little amused. He then shut the door, walking out into the street. The figures were approaching, more of them appearing through the haze of howling wind. Joe’s poncho flapped around as he turned to face them.

  “All this dust has me in a bad mood…” He flicked his hand and a match appeared. Striking it on his hat, he covered it with his hand as he lit the cigarillo. “Can’t keep my duds clean.” He puffed a bit to help the rolled leaves burn.

  The smoke entered his lungs, carrying with it a mixture of herbs and spices which had been carefully honed for just such an occasion. His veins chilled, his pupils dilated, and he felt the tight response of every muscle as his nerves fired more efficiently. He noticed everything around him more clearly. As Chalky flew above him, he could see the red color of its magic cutting through the currents. All the men in front of him leaked a sickly amber color, like pollen in the wind. The winds themselves carried something deeper yellow, yet to reveal itself. He heard the rumbling of the coming storm. The opaque wall of brown-grey was almost upon him.