He fell twice. Once into a drift so deep it closed over his head, and he had to claw his way out like a bear out of a den. Once on ice, his knee hit stone. He felt something give. He got up.
He kept going because she was down there alone with Leland, with Tull, with the whole town looking at her like a murderous. And if he hanged, she would be alone again, just like before. Just like the riverbank standing still in the snow. No, no, not again. Never again.
Not while he was breathing. Dawn came gray and mean. And there it was up ahead, half buried in the slope. The silver queen, a black mouth in the mountainside, timbers rotting, rusted orcart tipped on its side, and tracks in the snow, fresh ones, a horse, and a thin line of smoke curling out of the entrance. Anel went in slow, quiet, as quiet as a man his size could be.
Dark, dripping, smell of old smoke and horsung. The tunnel went back and back, and there around the second bend, a little fire, a bed roll, a saddle, a horse tied to an old beam stamping nervously, and a man crouched by the fire with his back turned. Eb ostrander. Anel took one step. A pebble rolled under his boot.
Ostrander spun pistol up so fast. The shot was deafening. In that tunnel, it was like the end of the world. The bullet tore past Anel's ear and blew splinters off a beam behind him. Anel charged.
Ostrander fired again, missed again. His hand was shaking too hard because he was looking up at 7 ft of snowcovered, redeyed, bleeding giant coming at him out of the dark like every nightmare he had ever had. Anel hit him like a falling tree. They went down together into the fire. Sparks everywhere.
Ostrander screaming. The pistol went spinning off into the dark. Ostrander clawed at Anel's face. kicked, bit, got a knife out of his boot and slashed. The blade opened Anel's forearm from wrist to elbow.
He barely felt it. He caught the knife hand twisted. The knife dropped. He pinned Ostrander flat on his back in the dirt with one enormous hand on his chest. Not his throat, his chest.
Don't kill me, Ostander sobbed. Don't kill me, please. Please, I didn't do it. I swear to God, I didn't do it. I didn't touch him.
It wasn't me. I know it wasn't you, Anel said. Ostrander stopped, stared. You know, I know it wasn't me either. The fire crackled, so Anel said very low, very quiet.
Who was it? Ostrander told him. All of it tumbling out of him like water out of a broken dam. The night of the wedding, Jubel drunk in the gilded pick, bragging, swearing he was going to get that Apache witch before Ohio did. And then Sheriff Tull at the door, friendly, easy, saying Mr. Ashcom wanted to see Jubel private business up at the Branick place.
I went along, Ostrander said. I was supposed to hold the horses. I was standing by the barn and Tull took a rope out of his saddle bag, a rope wrapped in leather and Jubel turned around to say something and Tull just he couldn't finish. Ashcom was there, he whispered, watching on his horse in the dark. Didn't say a word.
Just watched. Anel closed his eyes. Why didn't they kill you too? who they meant to. I saw it in Tall's face, so I ran.
I've been up here ever since waiting to die. Why did Jubel hate her so much? Odessa, why chase her 2,000 m? Ostrander laughed. A horrible cracked little laugh.
Because she was right there on that bridge in Ohio, right where Lucius didn't fall. Mr. Lucius never fell. Ostrander's eyes were wet. Jubel pushed him. Pushed his own brother off that bridge for the farm.
for the money. And then she came running down and found Lucius on the ice. And Jubel saw her kneeling there in the blood and thought, "Well, there's my answer. Who's going to believe in Apache?" Anel sat back on his heels. The cave spun.
She didn't do it. She didn't even stand still. Not really. She ran to him. She held him.
She tried to save a man who'd beaten her for years. And Jubel pushed him. And Jubel blamed her. And Jubel chased her across the whole country because she was the only one who might have seen two breaths. She'd carried two breaths on her conscience for two years.
And it was never her fault at all. You'll say it, Anel said in front of a judge. Not Kemp, a real one in Helena. You'll say all of it. They'll kill me.
They'll kill you anyway. You said so yourself. Ostrander stared at him. Then slowly he nodded. All right, he whispered.
All right, I'll say it. And then a voice came from the mouth of the tunnel. Branick. Anel's head snapped around. Come on out, Branick.
We've got the whole hill covered. Tull. Light at the end of the tunnel. Shapes moving in it. Men.
A lot of men. The scrape of boots. The click of rifles being cocked. They'd followed his tracks. Of course they'd followed his tracks.
A man his size in fresh snow. A child could have followed him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Stupid. You led them right here. You led them right to him. You, Ostrander, Tull called, friendly. Easy.
That you in there, Eb, you all right? Did he hurt you? Come on out, son. You're safe now. Ostrander's face went white as paper.
Don't, Anel said. Don't go. He'll kill me. I know. Stay with me.
There's another way out. There has to be. These old mines always had air shafts. Eb, come on out where I can see you. Stay behind me, Anel said.
Stay low. Stay. Ostrander bolted. Not out, back, deeper into the tunnel. Away from Tull, away from Anel, running blind in the dark, toward a little gray smudge of daylight far at the back, where an old air shaft cut up toward the sky.