Bryn rolled to the end of the bed to fetch the paper. "I saw things," he marveled.

"What does it say?" asked Cassidy, who frowned at the boy's sudden deep paleness. A figure stood, beyond the windows, among the fog, draped in a fine leather cape. At this sight, the bounty hunter shook his head, image dispelled.

To Cassidy's side he rolled and glanced about. "Sometimes, at night, when I wake up, I see…people. Their eyes leave streaks on the air," he paused, "Like when you look at a candle, then away. It leaves a streak on your eyes."

"Did you read that on yonder paper?" asked the bounty hunter, and the boy blushed. "I appreciate it, Bryn."

"But," the boy pressed, "Huckleberry Springs has always had a curse on it. Even the tribes-people stay away, and people went missing."

"They went missing?"

"Well, they still go missing, but a lot of people visit or pass through." Down his face fell, "People tend to drop off their problems at Thorncrown." With a thought, his eyes rose in delight, "When the top of the mountain blew off, before there were Indians here, it was the wrath of the heathen gods! That's how Crater or Devil Lake was created, my Ma said, probably," he squinted, "that is why the springs are so warm."

"Your Ma is certainly creative," nodded the bounty hunter, "and you're very smart."

"There is something else," Bryn pressed, "a name the nurses and doctors mention. Laetitia Jacquinot, I think, and they always look sour, when they say it. Is she an outlaw?"

"Not to my reckoning," Cassidy thought but shook his head.

Quick as his face fell, it raised, "Maybe, she is an ally."

"Maybe," he said, "but never count a friend, until they are one. People are tricky, and some are slow to show their motives." Gray slipped in at the edges, and he blinked. To the bottle of Huck's concoction light azure eyes wondered.

"Time for bed, Master Cox," the nurse appeared; utterly silent was her approach, "I'm sure you've regaled him with all your flights of fancy." She winked at the bounty hunter, eyes of one dying of thirst.

Listless gray turned to black, which devoured the world. Down into dreamless sleep he tumbled. To the floor medical equipment clattered, as someone cursed. Medicine had not taken hold. Eyes, blue as dawn over the desert, opened to be dragged shut. Someone screamed, another cursed, and utterances were beyond the murky soup of the mind. Blood clogged the air, only to be washed away in the crushing antiseptic miasma. Gentle hands touched Cassidy's neck and wrist, but turned violent in their probing. He pulled himself up in the fog, restraints strained, and hands held him down. Down the gullet medicine poured. Deeper into the darkness he fell. About him, people scrabbled in distant uproar. From another world they spoke. Through the halls they moved; yet, dim was his mind in the sporadic wakefulness.

Small hands, though weak, shook Cassidy's arm, "Cass, please wake up, something has happened!"

"What," he licked his lips, "what has taken place?"

"You've been out all day!" thrummed Bryn.

"You've been a handful, Mister Bullock," the nurse tightened straps until Cassidy winced. "You'll find that compliance will help with your recovery!" Away she strode in a huff, lips pressed together.

"Well," shrugged Cassidy, "I was always more of one lady's man, instead of a lady's man."

"Caroline," breathed the boy, dark eyes watchful.

The bounty hunter kept his gaze away, for his heart cracked under its concern, "And, what does your writer say of my Love?"

"That she was a great woman," whispered Bryn as tears rose, "and you miss her deeply."

Cassidy for a time was silent. "At least he got that correct," again, he was still, thought deep, heart heavy. "What is the cause of such commotion?" he asked. "You mentioned some sort of uproar."

"Yes, in the morning," Bryn began to shake, "they found hoof prints in the shallow snow. They tried to cover it up, but I saw it myself."

"Morning," repeated the bounty hunter, "It is still night."

The boy shook his head, "Cass, you've been out all day. All the staff is furious; a lot of their supplies were destroyed." He went to the window, returned, "You can still see the prints." Small hands undone straps, after a quick look to see there were no doctors or nurses around.

Cassidy stood, trembled, but had to lean against beds to reach the windows. He cursed, for their medicine had robbed him of much. There was in fact, hoof prints, which were just beyond the glass. He frowned; at first he believed it to be a joke, but saw it was indeed stranger. The tracks were too deep to be falsified, unless a man heavy as a buffalo was to have stood there. To his astonishment, his eyes followed them across the courtyard, and up the opposite wall. Whoever had made them, his puzzled mind spluttered, they could move in defiance of gravity. Doctors and nurses were everywhere in search of the bizarre beast possessed of demonic hoof.

"I think I've seen it," Bryn said, though uncertain, "like a big man in strange leather cape, but I didn't get a good look."

Back to the boy he turned, "Did you see it clearly?"

"Well…I don't know," he said, considered, "I thought he carried twin lamps."

"It was eyes," he said thoughtful. They seemed to be of flames.

"Some of the staff has disappeared," Bryn shook; dark eyes went to the window.

"Something is wide of the mark," said the bounty hunter, "and I won't be strapped down again."

At the end of the vast room their nurse and a doctor ordered patients to their beds. Cassidy wondered where they stored his belongs. Thorncrown was large, he had no doubt.

"I know where they put your stuff,' he said with an impish grin. "I thought you'd want to bust out of here!" he shook and gripped the book tighter. "Escape the evil clutches of the maniacal doctors and their harpy nurses!"