[Complete] When young Boone Rigger is pulled into the most fierce Gunslinger Tournament in the country, he must find the courage to kill, or be buried six feet underground.
The Iron Alchemist: Slinger Wars Book 1
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"You fool!" Krix shouted, "which direction did he go?"
Brugar scratched his oversized dome. It was the best bounty they had in weeks — a heart — and if they screwed it up they'd go back to doing diamonds for Wildie & Ron.
"He went that way," Brugar said, staring to the left at the fork in the road. "Or was it that way? No... that way." He pointed right.
"You imbecile... How many times do I have to tell you to keep your eyes peeled and ears clear?"
"At least one more time, Master?" Brugar grinned a wide, rotted smile.
Krix wiped the wrinkled annoyance from his face. "You go that way and I'll go this way. And don't withdraw your weapon unless you need to... Last thing we need is a Sheriff or Legionnaire on our tails."
Brugar nodded, "what if he attacks me—"
Krix griped, "I just said, unless you need to..." The man snatched his tassal whip from his belt and and smacked Brugar on his arms already blackened arm. "Pay attention!"
Brugar folded his big, round lips, frowning.
"Now get your big, pale ass going before I shove this down your throat!"
"Yes, Master!" The large man boomed, thundering off down the left side off the fork in the road.
"I've grown too soft on that big, stupid ape." Krix grumbled. "It maybe time to go back to the old ways."
He searched his surroundings; they were as far north as the city went. Where wooden aqueducts zigzagged above the mining district; lined with intricately placed stone attached to rowed water towers; there to quench the thirst of the infinitely wealthy.
The place was heavily guarded. It had to be or it would be under constant assault. Deputies roamed the streets while Legionnaires oversaw production, carrying alchellets on their bullet belts strapped to their chests and around their waists.
Krix walked down the streets, his feet moving nimbly; three steps for every one of Brugars while a sound my his ear twitch; the sound of grinding and pounding that came from the mines.
Can hardly hear a thing, he thought, walking beneath the tunnels of aqueducts.
The man they were after, Carlyle Schmidt, was a miner who'd been in charge of monitoring the weight of Corodite shards that came through the mines though the numbers didn't match up. Word had it he'd been changing the logs in order to sell additional shards to high rollers who sold weapons to tribes illegally; There was a lucrative market for Corodite and anybody who was anybody wanted it — And Carlyle was the key to finding out who ran the market — a knowledge the Mayor would pay top dollar for which meant a big payout from Wildie and Ron, and Krix for that matter. But since Carlyle got wind that he was under investigation he was giving deputies, Legionnaires, and bounty hunters the slip.
