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  MOTHER LODE

  ARUCADI, BOOK 9

  E. ROSE SABIN

  ARUCADI ENTERPRISES, LLC

  ST. PETERSBURG, FLORIDA

  2021

  MOTHER LODE

  E. Rose Sabin

  © 2021

  Arucadi Enterprises, LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  COVER ART BY IGOR DEŠIĆ, ©2021

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9798508576271

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE: AN INAUSPICIOUS ARRIVAL

  CHAPTER TWO: A GOOD HOME

  CHAPTER THREE: KITCHEN DUTY

  CHAPTER FOUR: SHAPE-SHIFTING

  CHAPTER FIVE: A DAY IN THE MINE

  CHAPTER SIX: FROM PERIL TO PERIL

  CHAPTER SEVEN: ENEMIES AND ALLIES

  CHAPTER EIGHT: FLIGHT AND PURSUIT

  CHAPTER NINE: THE BEST LAID PLANS

  CHAPTER TEN: PLANS GO AWRY

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: TRAPPED

  CHAPTER TWELVE: FIRE AND RAIN

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: UNANSWERED QUESTIONS

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: TORBY’S TROUBLES

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: BECK’S BAD NEWS

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: MOTHER LOAD

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: DISASTER STRIKES

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: FIGHTING BACK

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: LATE COMERS

  CHAPTER TWENTY: MOVING ON

  A NOTE TO MY READERS

  MY BOOKS

  CHAPTER ONE

  AN INAUSPICIOUS ARRIVAL

  Bryte stepped off the bus into the dry, hot, dusty city of Marquez. She gazed around at the hard-packed dirt street and dust-stained buildings. Not at all what she’d expected of the capital city of Plains Province. This place offered no promise of the adventure she’d dreamed of when she’d left her home in Tirbat to travel with Lina.

  “Let’s find a hotel,” Lina said, apparently undaunted by the bleak vista.

  Their queries led them to an older frame building of four stories that everyone had assured them was the best hotel in town. Bryte frowned. If this was the best hotel, what must the worst be like?

  Normally fussy, Lina paid for their room in advance without a word of complaint.

  The hotel did have a restaurant, where they went for a late lunch. A gray-haired waitress in a stained apron took their orders.

  “Steak,” Lina said, “large and very rare.”

  The woman jotted the order on a pad. “And for your daughter?”

  “Daughter!” Lina was indignant. “Do I look old enough to have a thirteen-year-old daughter? She’s my cousin.”

  The woman shrugged and waited incuriously for Bryte’s order. Bryte swallowed the laughter that bubbled up at the thought of Lina as a mother. It wasn’t just that Lina was only six years older than Bryte: she couldn’t imagine Lina at any age being anyone’s mother.

  Lina wasn’t her cousin, either, but that was no concern of the waitress’s. Bryte studied the menu until she was certain of being able to speak without laughing, then ordered a vegetable dish that looked passably appetizing.

  The steak Lina ordered arrived barely cooked, making Bryte shudder when Lina cut into it, revealing its bloody interior. Lina attacked it with gusto, declaring it tasty and prepared just the way she liked it. Bryte’s lunch of overcooked vegetables and a wilted salad did nothing to build her confidence in the restaurant or the town.

  When they finished eating, Lina stood and stretched. “I want to get to know this place,” she said. “And I need to work out the kinks from sitting in a bus for three days. You can wander around on your own for a while.”

  “Why can’t I go with you?”

  “I prefer to go alone,” Lina said. “I can cover more ground that way.”

  No point in arguing; Bryte understood what Lina meant. They walked outside together, and Bryte stood on the street corner, shaded her eyes against the insistent sun, and watched Lina stride off, leaving her alone and already bored in this lackluster town, so unlike her native Tirbat.

  She wandered into a general store and roamed up and down the aisles, gazing at merchandise designed for practicality and economy rather than attractiveness. She saw nothing she’d consider worth purchasing—or stealing.

  She settled for buying a lemon soda and asking the clerk, “Anything exciting ever happen here in Marquez?”

  “Not much,” the clerk, a man of indeterminate age and unremarkable features, answered with a shrug. “This here’s a pretty dull place.”

  “Well, are there any interesting sights to see, or places to go for entertainment?”

  The clerk regarded her with a quizzical look that might have held mild amusement. “You just get into town, little lady?”

  “I came in on the bus from Pescatil.”

  “Pescatil, eh? Odd sort of place, that. Or so I’ve always heard.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Bryte replied crossly. “I only changed buses there.” She’d wanted to spend a bit of time in Pescatil, but they’d seen nothing but a café and the inside of the bus station because Lina had insisted on taking the first bus from Pescatil to Marquez. “I’m from Tirbat.”

  She’d expected the man to be impressed by her mention of Arucadi’s seven-tiered capital, often declared the country’s most beautiful city, but he merely shrugged and wiped off the counter where her cold soda bottle had left a ring.

  “So,” she persisted, “is there anyplace you’d recommend for me to visit or see?”

  “Tourists generally visit the Mining Museum and shop for gems and handcrafts. But if you’re lookin’ for excitement, best recommendation I c’n give you is to go back to the bus station and take the next bus out, no matter where it’s goin’, ’cause you aren’t gonna find anything exciting here in Marquez.”

  The sound of footsteps running past the store squelched the retort Bryte had ready. The clerk didn’t look up; he probably hadn’t heard.

  Curious, Bryte walked toward the door. Her acute hearing picked up men’s voices. She listened and found that in this quiet town sound carried easily in the still air. Easily for her ears, anyway.

  “We gotta find him,” a man was saying. “Can’t go back to your mother and tell her the brat got away again.”

  “Yeah, well, that kid’s too much trouble, if you ask me,” a second male voice responded. “Never saw a kid that could disappear so fast. I say let him go. I’ll deal with my mother.”

  Bryte spotted the speakers. On the opposite side of the street about a block away, two men stood, their backs to her. Bryte headed toward them cautiously, keeping close to the wooden storefronts. A flash of motion caught her eye as she passed an open space between two frame buildings.

  She ran between the buildings to get a better look, thinking she might see the boy the men were talking about. Nothing was there but what looked like a tan dog racing toward an open field. She should have known that what she had glimpsed had been moving too fast for a person.

  She hurried back toward the street. Stepping out from between the buildings, she landed directly in the path of the two men, who had turned and were walking straight toward her, though still about half a block away.

  “Aha! This is a bit of luck,” one murmured. “There’s a substitute for the one we lost.”

  “You crazy?” the other asked, keeping his voice low. “She’s probably got a family close by.”

  “Mebbe. Mebbe not. Let’s find out,” the first speaker said as they drew closer.

  Lucky for her that they had no knowledge of her special hearing. She could turn around and make a hasty retreat to the general st
ore, where she could ask the clerk’s help if she needed it.

  On the other hand, she’d wanted an adventure, and this one had fallen into her lap. The men had aroused her curiosity. They seemed up to no good, and her prior experience with evildoers gave her confidence that she could protect herself.

  She walked purposefully toward the men and began to speak just before she reached them. “Good afternoon, sirs,” she began in her most guileless manner. “I just arrived in town and don’t know my way around. Can you direct me to a good hotel?”

  It was a silly request, since the hotel where she and Lina had taken a room was not far away and was the tallest building on the block, its large sign making it even more conspicuous. But she knew how to alter her facial expression to make herself look younger than her thirteen years. She hoped that the men would take her for a foolish and frightened child.

  The quick triumphant glance one man gave the other confirmed her impression that the men were up to no good and were taking her for an easy victim. “We’d be glad to help, little lady,” the man said. “You aren’t alone here, are you?”

  “I’m supposed to meet a friend, but I don’t know where she is.” Bryte allowed a tremor to creep into her voice. “I hope she got the message that I was coming.”

  “You come in on the train?” the same man asked. He seemed to be the spokesman for the two.

  “No, the bus. From Pescatil.”

  The silent man looked disappointed, which Bryte considered odd and stirred her curiosity still more. Definitely the afternoon was proving more interesting than she’d anticipated.

  “Pescatil, eh? Peculiar place, I’ve heard.” The speaker was a large man with a thick, wide mustache, its ends drooping past his mouth and wiggling alarmingly as he spoke.

  Not wanting to reveal her ignorance of Pescatil or to divulge the information that she’d only passed through en route from Tirbat, she merely shrugged.

  “Got family in Pescatil?”

  Recalling their conversation, Bryte said, “No, I’m an orphan.” She blinked as though fighting back tears.

  The shaggy mustache framed a sly grin.

  His companion, a tall, gaunt man, spoke at last. “Orphans need a family,” he said. “Sisters, brothers.” He gazed expectantly at her and his brow wrinkled in apparent puzzlement when she did not react.

  “What he means,” his more talkative companion interpreted, “is that we can take you to a place where there are a lot of children, many your age, some younger. You could stay there until you can contact your friend.”

  “Hadn’t oughtta be by yourself in a hotel,” the quieter man added solemnly. His extreme thinness would have made Bryte think he was ill, except that the ropy muscles visible beneath the taut skin spoke of strength.

  “Rale’s got a real tender heart,” the mustached one said, and Bryte was sure that a hint of laughter lurked behind the words. “He can’t stand to see a young’un be alone or in need.”

  Rail was a good name, Bryte thought, for the tall, thin man with the steely muscles. Tenderhearted? She had a strong suspicion that he was the more dangerous of the two. His thin face had a cruel look, long and full of sharp angles as though chiseled from stone, hard and devoid of human feelings. If she had to rely on only her physical power to elude him and his talkative companion, the two could easily catch and hold her.

  She wasn’t concerned; they didn’t know of her special abilities, and the element of surprise would be in her favor.

  If she seemed too eager, it could arouse their suspicions. “Well,” she said, drawling the word as though considering their offer, “I’m not sure I should go with you. Where do all these other children live?”

  “On a ranch just outside of town,” the mustached one replied. “It’s a real nice place with lots of other children, so you’ll have playmates, lots of brothers and sisters and—”

  “I never any sisters or brothers,” Bryte interrupted hastily, acting frightened. “What if we don’t get along?” She sent a silent apology to her sister Ileta and her brother Stethan, both of whom she loved dearly.

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” the talkative one said, laughing. “Once you get to know the children, you’ll have lots of fun with them. You’ll love having brothers and sisters.”

  “Well, I s’pose I could come and just see what it’s like.”

  “Good!” Rale took her arm and his companion stepped to her other side. They marched her along between them.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A GOOD HOME

  He hid behind a clump of tall grass and watched his enemies walk from the town. They were no longer looking for him. They had a girl with them, and a few moments’ observation convinced him that the stupid girl was going with them willingly.

  He’d been priding himself on getting away easily and safely, but now he’d have to go rescue the little fool. He tried to tell himself that she didn’t deserve his help. She should have been taught not to trust strangers, especially two like Rale and Cooper. She looked about his age but behaved like a small child. The dumb twit didn’t have a lick of sense, and he ought to let her learn the hard way.

  He couldn’t do that. Not because his conscience wouldn’t let him, though it did prick just a bit, but because he never could resist the temptation to show off, and this was an excellent opportunity for it. He’d wanted to stage a rescue, but once the captives were put to work in the mines, he couldn’t find a way to get to them. He’d have to act before this girl was assigned to a work detail, which wouldn’t be today. He could get her free today; tomorrow would be too late.

  Following at a safe distance and keeping hidden, he considered how to go about the rescue. Rale was armed with a wicked knife he called ‘Mamie’, and Cooper’s hands were powerful weapons. It was no easy task he’d set himself.

  They were heading, he guessed, toward the ranch. It was early afternoon, which made it very likely that they would leave the girl in care of Mother Cooper, who was anything but motherly, and go either to the mine or back to hunting him. He was confident of his ability to evade them, and with no one in the house with the girl but the ogress, it would not be too difficult to get to the girl. The problem would lie in convincing her of the danger and persuading her to flee.

  He resolved to try.

  Bryte trotted along with the two men, not minding the walk after her long bus ride.

  “What’s your name, little lady?” asked the man called Rale.

  “Bryte,” she replied in her little girl voice.

  “You got a family name?” he inquired further.

  Yes, she did, but these men didn’t need to know it. She shrugged. “Just Bryte,” she said, adding to divert their attention, “I prob’ly should have stayed in town. Somebody was s’posed to meet the bus and help me find a place to live. But nobody was waiting at the bus station, and nobody came after the bus left, so I just started walking. You think I should go back and try to find the person?”

  “Is this person someone you know? What’s her name?”

  Bryte wrinkled her forehead as if trying to remember. “Uh, it’s something like Miller, but that isn’t it. Muller? I think that’s it.” She paused, considering. It probably wouldn’t be wise to give Lina’s last name, Mueller, and even “Muller” might be too close. “No, that’s not it either. Tuller? No. Tully. That’s it! Tully.”

  “Can’t recall anybody by that name in town,” said the mustached one, frowning. “You sure the name wasn’t Cooper? That’s my name.”

  “I don’t think so. It was a woman. Mistress Tully.”

  “Well, my mama is Mistress Cooper, but everybody calls her Mother Cooper. That’s where we’re going, to Mother Cooper’s place. She loves children, can’t get enough.” His mustache bobbed up and down as he talked.

  Rale coughed in what to Bryte sounded suspiciously like a cover-up of barely suppressed laughter. “Mother Cooper” would probably prove much less motherly than Cooper claimed.

  Nevertheless, Bryte decided
to play along. “It might’ve been Mistress Cooper. I don’t ’member things very good.”

  “That must have been it,” Cooper said triumphantly. “And we’re taking you just where you’re supposed to go.”

  Bryte had no way to let Lina know where she was and what she was doing. She could only hope to get back before Lina returned from prowling around, but if she didn’t, would Lina worry? Probably not at first, she thought, but if she was gone too long …

  Well, she’d try not to be gone too long, but she very much wanted to learn what mischief these two men were up to. All the evidence pointed to something illegal that somehow involved children. And if true, that demanded investigation. She’d learn all she could, and then get away and report her findings to Lina. Together she and Lina could decide what to do about whatever situation she uncovered.

  They walked for some time, mostly in silence, the men urging her to walk at a faster pace than she wanted. She noted that they both, but Rale in particular, often cast furtive glances back and to either side as they proceeded. They might be looking for the missing boy, but it was also possible that they feared being seen taking her away.

  The boy did not appear, and no one seemed to take note of them as they left town and streets behind and struck out across stony ground dotted with stunted shrubs, cactuses, and rounded stones. On the bus ride when they’d passed land like this, Lina had explained that the stones had been washed down from distant hills in the flash floods that often resulted from sudden hard squalls during the winter and spring, producing a sudden abundance of water the dry ground couldn’t absorb.

  Bryte’s feet grew tired and sore by the time a large, rambling house appeared in the distance, building within her the hope of a drink of cold water and a place to rest her feet. As they drew nearer, she saw that the “house” consisted of what must have been an old single-story frame farmhouse, to which had been added two long additions, structures built haphazardly with various materials—sheets of metal, weathered boards, stones mortared together without regard to proper fit or appearance. These additions appeared windowless; giving the place the air of a prison. Bryte hoped they were used only for storage, as any inhabitants occupying those rough appendages would find them stifling hot in the daytime. But suppose they were where all the children the men spoke of were housed?