The sun had begun to set by the time they reached the fourth stronghold of the Six-Guns, the Smoky Mountain Sanctuary. Cal watched the place come into view, the most prominent building peeking from above the trees. The highest spire of a building called the Star Range, its many towers precisely positioned to match reference points in the night sky. The Star Range sat above the walls and other buildings of the Sanctuary. Carved into the mountainside, it gave the Sanctuary an aggressive profile. The Sanctuary dominated the mountainside, high limestone walls encasing the sprawling infrastructure. Cal expected a single building but was greeted with an entire town, complete with forges and workshops, a school, and a horse ranch. The Smoky Mountain Sanctuary, like all the Six-Gun strongholds, was a self-sustaining economy in its own right. The Six-Guns knew that relying on outside help would compromise them, and thus they built whole towns like this one specifically for housing their brethren, the training of new Guns, and the safe study of magic.

  The road took them to the large gate, which sat open. A plaid-coated man in the gatehouse beckoned them in from the window. Cal marveled at the massive gate as they drove through. After entering the Sanctuary, the driver pulled over to a parking lane.

  He turned his body to face Louey. “This is it. I’ll catch you later, Cobb.”

  “Thanks, Pat.” Louey reached up and shook his hand. Only now did little Cal learn the driver’s name. For the entire trip he had remained quiet, letting Louey address the boy as he saw fit.

  “Come by Mulligan’s, I’ll buy you a drink.” Louey smiled.

  The driver named Pat took his hand with a clap, “Oh yeah, I’ll take it. Now get out so I can get ole girl to the motor pool.”

  Louey opened the door, stepping out with a low grunt. He had been sitting too long and his legs were getting sore. Cal followed suit and Pat pulled away from them, leaving the two in the cobbled main street. Cal looked on, seeing more men in cowboy clothes, all with guns on their hips, and a lot of men and women in the plaid flannel shirts. Some had boxes, others were leading horses, and some were just out smoking or talking. The town seemed oblivious to its new visitors.

  The Sanctuary was not oblivious at all, however.

  A gloved hand dropped onto Louey’s shoulder from behind, a voice startling Cal. “Hello there, Louey. Welcome back. You brought me a present.”

  Cal looked up to find a tall man in a similar wide-brimmed hat, only his clothes were noticeably more elegant than Louey’s. He wore a long tan coat, instead of a poncho. This man’s wild grey mane barely fit under his hat. Cal found himself staring at the thick, fuzzy grey moustache under his nose. It looked like a massive caterpillar.

  Louey tilted his head, “You ain’t satisfied if you aren’t horsing around, Rand.”

  “I just can’t help myself” The older Six-Gun patted him twice more, his voice cut with chuckles.

  Louey turned back to the boy, “Cal, this is the Sanctuary’s Foreman, the guy in charge. His name is Deadeye Rand.” His tone shifted downwards dramatically. “While you stand on Sanctuary grounds, you WILL treat this man with respect. Understand?”

  “Yes sir.” Cal spoke weakly, caught off guard by the sudden change. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  Rand smacked Cal on his back firmly. “Nice to meet you too. You must be Calvin Baird.”

  Cal nodded, remaining quiet.

  “Allow me to welcome you to the great Smoky Mountain Sanctuary. Here, you’ll become one of the toughest, deadliest Six-Guns in the country. Just like Louey there. How old are you, son?”

  “I’m eleven... and a quarter… almost.”

  “Ha! Alright!” His laugh was rough, from the decades of smoking, “Well boy, you’re just a little too young to do any real training, but there’s plenty of stuff you can do around here to earn your keep. And you’ll be studying in school.”

  “School?” Cal lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yup. Classroom education. A Six-Gun’s sorcery comes from his mind, and so he must be well-educated. Welcome to the Posse, son.”

  Foreman Rand stepped ahead of them, waving a hand as he passed. “You’ll love it here, little Baird. Maybe not at first, but you’ll come to call this place home.”

  He continued on, leaving Louey and Cal standing at the compound’s open gate. Louey started on, gesturing for Cal to follow. The two made their way down the street, the shadow of the mountain looming over them.

  Cal looked up to Louey as they walked. “What’s he mean about a Posse, Louey? I’m in a Posse?”

  The older Six-Gun nodded. “You will be. We are the continuation of the original Posse that the Gunslinger Grady rode with. My great grandfather rode with him, believe it or not. Every Six-Gun is a member of one huge posse, Grady’s Posse, forever. You should be honored, boy.”

  He did feel a bit of pride as Louey explained it to him. He felt like a member of an important group. Watching the others in the street, all in their cool cowboy getups, Cal’s spirits lifted. Though, a thought drifted into his mind as he observed the fact that there weren’t any women Six-Guns around. There were women among them, in the plaid shirts, but none had a gun.

  “Say, Louey, how come there’s no girl Six-Guns?”

  “There are,” Louey answered, still looking ahead. “They’re not as common, though.”

  “How come?”

  “Well, the way that Grady taught us to use Resolve doesn’t work so well for ladies. They CAN use it, see, but it’s hard for them to use it the way we teach our boys. I wish I could tell you why, I just can’t. The girls that become Six-Guns do so through extreme hard work, or just a fluke. Simple as that.”

  “Can’t we teach it a different way for them?”

  “There you go with all the questions” Louey chuckled, “The Redwood Forest Sanctuary is trying to figure something out along those lines. Times are changing, and I’m sure we will be able to bring more girls into the Posse. There are already some lady guns among us for sure. Like the legend, Wild Oak Annie.”

  Louey’s voice swelled with excitement as he said her name. That feeling was contagious, exciting Cal as well.

  “Yup,” He continued, “Wild Oak Annie was a legendary lady gun from the 90’s. Supposedly, she could kill a man with a single look, or make him fall in love with a kiss. She was sharp as glass, tough as cowhide, pretty as moonlight. That’s what they say, anyhow.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Louey stopped in front of a building with a high roof and glass windows facing the street. He looked to Cal. “I ain’t heard that she died. She is probably still kicking, gotta be in her 60’s now, probably tougher than ever. Anyhow, come on in here and we will get you registered.”

  Cal nodded, looking at the building. It was painted red, with grand letters on it spelling out “Administration - And Other Cruelties.” He could see the waiting room through the wide windows. The two stepped in, past a few plush chairs and an elegant lamp, up to the counter where a stout plaid-shirted attendant smiled.

  “Welcome, Mr. Cobb!” The attendant tapped the counter with the pen in his hand, “What can the Administrative Office do for you today?”

  “Got a new Gun, need to get him read and registered.”

  “Ah!” The attendant leaned over his desk to get a look at Cal. “Well look at this youngin! What’s your name?”

  “Calvin Baird” Louey answered for him.

  “Ok, I’ll get Lauren to come do a quick reading while I fill out the papers. Be right back!”

  He hopped off the stool he was sitting on and went out the door behind him, deeper into the building. This left Louey leaning on the counter while Cal curiously surveyed the waiting room. He had never seen fine handcrafted chairs like the ones here, painted and finished to preserve them. There was not a speck of dust on anything, either.

  “Impressed?” Louey could tell what he was thinking.

  “It’s so neat and clean in here!”

  “The Plaidshirts are real professionals. Louey told him, “They keep things perfect. The Six-Guns are lost without them. You’ll learn when you get out into the field, the Plaidshirts are the real heroes.”

  “Could I be a Plaidshirt?” he asked.

  “I suppose you could, but you can already use Resolve, kiddo. You already got a head start. You could be a powerful Gun, just like your Pa. The Plaidshirts don’t know how to use Resolve.”

  “Oh, right…” Cal scratched at his neck, “Forgot about that.”

  The attendant returned after a moment. Following behind him, a woman stepped into the room. She had on a black dress with frilled shoulders, and boots with high heels. Her black hair, salted with silvery white, was tied in a sensible bun behind her head. The tiny black hat pinned up in her hair filled Cal with delight, it was whimsical to his juvenile sensibilities. Her eyes gripped his attention, they were a stark violet, giving off a faint glow. In front of Calvin was an actual witch.

  “Hello there, young man.” Her aged voice was soft and sweet, “My name is Lauren. I need to read your palm, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Are you an old witch?” Cal blurted. Louey had to smirk.

  Lauren looked to Louey, shooting him a glare. “Button down that mouth, Lou Cobb, or I’ll have Madeline correct you.”

  Louey nearly choked, eyes wide. He turned his head and pulled his hat brim down to hide his face.

  Returning her gaze to the boy, Lauren smiled softly. “Yes, I am a witch of the Green Coven, young man. You will see much of us, and I would encourage you to be respectful to the ladies. Especially the young witches you meet as you grow into a proper Six-Gun. Some of them are not so skilled at controlling their temper. It comes with age.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will be respectful.” Cal nodded.

  “Now, let me read your palm, and you can be registered. Are you right or left-handed?”

  “I’m a southpaw!” Cal proudly presented his left hand. This earned a giggle from the older witch.

  “Very well, little southpaw. I will read you.”

  She took his hand with both of hers, fingers tracing over the lines in his palm. For a long moment she studied, her violet eyes alight with her magic. An odd feeling overtook Cal. He instinctively honed his focus, entering a Resolute state. He could see the overwhelming magic in the woman before him. Laid out like a map, he could see the winding, churning energy coursing through every bit of her body. The core of her magic was her heart, unlike the core of Louey’s. It was vibrant and beautiful, unlike anything he could have imagined. He unknowingly stopped breathing.

  “Breathe.”

  The word surged through his mind, spoken yet unspoken. The witch had breached him, her magic as gentle as the St. John’s River. He gasped, filling his lungs with air again. She let go of his hand and tapped a finger to the center of his forehead. Releasing magic from her fingertip, she pushed him out of his Resolute State abruptly. Cal felt jerked back into reality. He breathed heavily. The majesty of the Witch’s energy had left him breathless, and now he felt fatigued.

  “Lou,” Lauren’s voice wavered, “You brought us something obscene.”

  Louey looked to her again, a stoney look on his face. “You let me deal with that.”

  “He shouldn’t be here, you know it.” She pressed, studying Cal intently. “He has to be destroyed. He HAS to be, he- “

  “Enough.” Louey spoke in a tone that Cal hadn’t yet heard. It was deep and powerful, with the intensity of a furious shout, but with the calm of a whisper. This tone was enough to cow the witch, reminding her again that Lou Cobb was a Six-Gun and a Face Card. She stepped back and lowered her head, hands clasped together at her waist.

  “I’m sorry. I will let you and the Guns handle this matter how you see fit. My concerns got the best of me. I meant no offense.”

  “None taken.” Louey pat Cal on his head, “Thank you, Lauren. Can you give your assessment?”

  She nodded, clearing her throat. “Clubs, the boy is dominantly a Club. It is not the most accurate reading because of… well… there’s outside influence. But I can confidently read Clubs.”

  “Makes sense, this is the son of Billy Baird.” Louey leaned on the counter again.

  Lauren looked back to Cal, her eyes taking on a baleful look. She knew full well that Baird had abandoned this boy. She didn’t quite know why, but she knew Baird had been gone for years, apparently leaving behind a little boy who had now become afflicted with the horrible magic of an Old God. The picture in her mind of this little child left behind racked her heart with sadness. She looked back to Louey.

  “My part is done. I’m going back to my study.”

  Nodding, Louey watched her go back through the door.

  “Very well.” The attendant piped up, “I have the papers drawn up. Calvin Baird is officially registered with the Smoky Mountain Sanctuary. Mr. Cobb, would you like to administer to Calvin the Oath?”

  “Sure thing.” Louey stood up straight. “Cal, you must now take an oath to the Six-Guns. All you gotta do is raise your right hand and repeat after me. Carefully speak these words, boy. You can never unspeak them.”

  Cal nodded, reading the importance of this moment in Louey’s eyes. He lifted his right hand.

  “Alright. Repeat after me: I, your name, give my gun to Grady’s Posse. I will walk the path that the Gunslinger walked. I will strike down his enemies. I will protect his people. I will not falter in the face of the horrors of the land, nor the horrors of men. I will hold my Resolve, just as I hold my gun. I will fight and die for my brothers if I must, but I will die with my gun in my hand. If I do, I ask them to hang my boots with those of my brothers who have fallen before me.

  Cal listened to this, and proceeded to take the oath his father took. “I, Calvin Baird, give my gun to Grady’s Posse…”

  Louey listened as Calvin repeated his exact words, attempting to reproduce the tone Louey had delivered. This process always reminded him of when he took the oath himself, many years ago. When Calvin finished, Louey pat his shoulder.

  The attendant took a breath and puffed up for his official declaration. “Well done! Then by the power vested in me, Benjamin Schmitt, by the High Hand on Grady’s Table and Foreman Ivan Rand of the Smoky Mountain Sanctuary, I hereby declare you to be a Six-Gun of Grady’s Posse and issue to you this membership card.”

  The Plaidshirt handed Cal a playing card. It had an intricate design on one face, depicting a skull and crossed pistols, resting atop a pink rose. The other face was that of an American standard playing card, specifically a Two of Clubs.

  Louey saw the confusion on his face. “That’s your card, your rank. Six-Guns are ranked by values in a deck of cards. You are brand new, a Two. As you get stronger and more capable, you’ll be issued higher values. The suit of your card, Clubs, represents what kind of Resolve you have. You’ll learn about this in class.”

  “I’m Clubs, huh? Like the witch said” Cal stared at the card.

  “Yup. Here’s mine.” Louey produced his membership card. It was identical to Cal’s, only his was the Ace of Hearts.

  “Hearts.” Cal nodded, “Is that better?”

  “No. Hearts, Diamonds and Clubs are all just different kinds of Resolve. Then there’s Spades. When a Six-Gun progresses to a certain level, they are inducted into a new tier, a new group, the Spades. Those are the strongest of all the Guns, each one a legend.”

  “Whoa….” Cal gasped with excitement, “Will I meet a Spade, you think?”

  “You already have.” Louey smirked, “You met one less than an hour ago!”

  “Oh” That stopped Cal in his tracks, “The.. the guy? The one I should respect?”

  “The Foreman, the leader of the Sanctuary, Cal. Deadeye Rand is a Three of Spades.”

  “I see. So, I’m a Six-Gun now?” Cal looked up to him.

  Louey smiled, seeing the face of his old friend Billy Baird in the boy’s face.

  “Yes, Calvin. You’re a Six-Gun.”