Page 3 of Suncatcher

No one was around when Driz swooped down at the broken end of the line. Piles of materials lay stacked and ready. Wood and iron impaled the earth as the humans staked their claim to this land that was not theirs. It wasn’t Driz’s either, but she didn’t want to have to leave it.

She poked around, finding bits of food and paper wrappings. A pair of old worn boots rested by a rock. Driz picked them up, inspecting them curiously before replacing them.

The metal stakes they used were long and weighty. She rolled one between her hands and glanced at the large pile.

They wouldn’t miss just one.

Driz landed with a splash in the shallow stream. Pressing herself to the wet rock, she edged through the gap behind the waterfall, which wasn’t much more than a trickle after the absence of rain since the spring. It took only one step to duck into the open-topped grotto beyond.

She added the railway tine alongside the other treasures. After some consideration, she placed it between a dented metal pot, still charred with black soot, and a pair of looking glasses made of rusted wire, though one of the lenses was missing and the remaining one was cracked. Driz didn’t mind.

While she was at it, she reordered her glass bottles. She’d previously grouped them by color, but now she made an alternating pattern of green and brown and clear, with her favorite blue one in the center.

Pleased, she took one last look over her collection before ducking back through the gap and beneath the water, wetting her wings and enjoying the sensation of it sliding along the joints and webbing.

A muted firefox had wandered into the canyon, and it dipped its delicate snout into the stream. Driz froze so as not to startle the skittish creature, and a second younger one trotted from the shrubs. As it drank too, a quivering silver fish caught its attention. The kit cocked its head this way and that, and then it pounced, splashing through the water, chasing the elusive flash. The older firefox flicked its whiskers and flattened its large ears, looking thoroughly annoyed.

Driz laughed. Both foxes glanced at her before scampering away as quickly as they appeared.

“Sorry,” Driz called, though she knew they could not understand her. “I will leave.”

The firefoxes did not want Driz’s company either. Perhaps the other goyles were correct, and it was better to be alone.

Driz left the canyon for her guests and kicked up to find a better place to watch the start of the dawn.

2

An Unwelcome Sight

Pearl hated the sunrise. So she generally avoided rising in time to see it, especially when she’d consumed nearly an entire bottle of bourbon the night before.

If it were up to her, she would’ve gladly stayed in bed until the sun burned high above. But it was barely on the horizon when her mother decided she had other plans for her.

“Wake up.”

Pearl groaned as the pillow over her head was removed. She blinked in the too-bright light and her mother’s glare.

“Up.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” Pearl grumbled, pushing upright and untangling from the patchwork quilt strangling her legs.

She was still mostly clothed, her waistcoat unbuttoned as if she’d made an attempt to undress, but she seemed to be missing one boot. She found it on her dressing table and jammed her foot into it.

“What d’you want?” Pearl asked as she poured some water into her chipped washbasin and dunked her face.

“Got a job for you.” Her mother folded her arms over her chest, wooden foot tapping ominously.

“What sort?”

Pearl’s mouth felt stuffed with raw wool. She reached into it and snapped out the line of false gold teeth that comprised all but two of her top front ones. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep with them in, but since she didn’t remember much from last night, she was simply grateful she’d ended up in her own room. She doused the five teeth connected by thin wire with more bourbon and swallowed a gulp herself for good measure before wedging the piece back into place.

Then she finally faced her mother, who was very much the sheriff this morning.

Sheriff Oak’s long duster jacket might have once been blue, but the red dirt and salt residue had stained and bleached it alternately for so long that it couldn’t quite decide what color to be. Her dark braid was woven with white and those lines on her face were not from laughter. She’d run this town all of Pearl’s life and no one expected she’d stop anytime soon.

Pearl rummaged in her pockets for a smoke.

“The railroad’s coming.”