Cowboy Joe sat by the fire and gnawed on the last of the hardtack. Had he saved more than a single swipe of chili, he’d have saved himself a jawing, but he wasn’t the saving type.
No, he was the acquiring type, and he meant to get his due. A slug of coffee washed the unceasing dry crumbs down his scratchy throat, and he hefted it above his mouth several times as if the last drops would get the taste out of his mouth. When it was dry as a bone, he gave up and tied the tin cup to the loop on his pack. Today wasn’t a day for stealth, where the shine would give him away. In fact, the sleeker he looked, the better off he’d be.
If the rumors were anything to go by, that is. Most of the miners had laughed them off, and gone back to sluicing. “But I pay attention, Bonsai, don’t I now?”
The pinto horse whickered. She was resting easy, even if the trail he’d followed spooked her. It’d taken time to get her used to the scent.
But following the bears was the way to find gold, so follow the bears he did.
They’d spent the past week in transit, trekking over rolling hills past scattered groves of cypress as tough as the land it stood upon, and just as hard to kill as the rest of its inhabitants. Clyde used to tell him this way lay mountains, but if these were mountains, they barely deserved the name, almost as small as those wooden blocks his youngest sister had played with. They’d worn down to rounded edges by her turn, with all the love and abuse his seven siblings could give.
The last three days, he and Bonsai had started seeing the bees. She liked them almost as little as the bears, if he had to admit it clear and honest.
Just a few here and there at first, darting between the trees on their busy, buzzing way to find open fields and pollinators. This last day…
This last day had been a veritable line of glowing bees, pointing straight toward the golden horde. All he had to do was get there, take the queen bee hostage, and wait for the rest to fill up his saddlebags with gold.
Poor Bonsai was going to get a workout.
“I’m not a cruel man,” he said aloud. “Won’t hurt ‘er none.”
The pinto snorted in response.
“Let’s go, then.” He stamped out the last of the coals, packed his gear, and ambled his way over to where Bonsai was picketed. She snorted into his face this time, and he patted her head with a fond smile. “You and me, we’re gonna be set for life.”
By midafternoon, Cowboy Joe was gazing down at his goal. Within reach, his plan to capture the queen seemed utterly foolish now.
The rumors hadn’t mentioned a few critical factors.
First off, the golden horde was a honeypot. A literal, enormous valley of honeycomb, dripping with sticky, sweet liquid.
Second – and he’d stared for hours before he’d believed it – underneath that gleaming reflective gold, the queen had shining scales of azure blue and pointed wings broader than his old campsite back at the mine.
A dragon, straight out of the picturebooks he’d scoffed at, knocking them out of his brother’s hands when he could, until the boy had thwarted him by reading the Holy Bible and threatening to sic Pa on him if he’d done it one more time. If only the grown-up bastard could see them now, what would that preacher tell his flock?
The queen – for this must be the queen, there was no denying it – shimmered in the late afternoon sunlight, and blew a gout of flame toward an isolated pool that gleamed darker than the rest.
“Spicy honey,” a tinny voice said, right next to his ear. “Fiery, obviously.”
Cowboy Joe tore his eyes away and spun around. A bee floated by his ear, and he swatted it away.
“Hey!” the same voice buzzed, and an angry growl rippled around the hilltop. “Don’t you think you’re a tad outnumbered for those antics?”
He could barely see Bonsai’s peaceful grazing through the cloud of buzzing, glowing bees.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of her for you.” The talking bee spun around and darted forward, back toward the queen, and he couldn’t help but notice just how large and pointed its stinger was. Or how the swarm pressed around him, urging him forward.
“You just keep following the bees, Cowboy Joe, and we’ll take care of you.”
***
Why, inspired by inspiration, of course…
