The Keep of Fire by Mark Anthony Read Free Book Online

the influence of an illegal substance when he came in here. LSD. Heroin. Electria.”
    Travis topped off her coffee. “Electria?”
    Jace nodded. “A new designer drug. It started showing up on the coasts about a year ago, and it’s been working its way in ever since. Gives the user a feeling of extreme euphoria. The reports say it can also induce a sense of invulnerability. Whatever the John Doe doused himself in, my bet is he didn’t think it would really hurt him.”
    Travis shuddered, and shrill words echoed in his mind.
    In the end, fire shall take us all.…
    No, the deputy was wrong. The man had known he would burn. Besides, a drug couldn’t explain the melted footsteps.
    Travis took a bottle of water from the chiller andslid it toward Jace. “Would you take this to Max? The doctor says he’s supposed to keep his fluids up.”
    Jace took the bottle and headed toward the corner of the saloon. Travis followed her with his eyes, then his gaze dropped down to the dark splotch on the floor.
    “The Immolated Man.”
    Travis looked up at Deirdre. She was wearing only a white tank top with her black jeans, but her skin still glowed from the heat. The tattoo above her collarbone glistened like jade: a serpent eating its own tail.
    “What do you mean?” he said.
    She met his eyes. “It’s an archetype, one that shows up in many different myths and cultures. The Immolated Man. The Burned God. The Sacrificed King. Again and again myths tell about a man or woman or god who is consumed in fire.”
    Sickness rose in his throat, but Travis forced it down. “Why? Why does that story get told so many times?”
    “I don’t know for certain. It’s about transformation, I think. It’s like the Phoenix or Shiva or the Christ.” Deirdre brushed a finger across the serpent tattoo. “You have to die to become something new.”
    Travis’s gaze drifted back to the scorch mark. “But become what?”
    “That’s up to you. In the end, we must each choose what we become.”
    With that, Deirdre picked up her mandolin and returned to the small stage to fill the saloon with music.
    Travis sighed, then grabbed a tray and started rounding up used beer glasses. He halted as movement through the open door caught his eye. Outside, a vehicle drove slowly past the saloon: a black sport utility with tinted windows. A logo was emblazoned on the side of the vehicle—a crescent moon thatmerged into a capital letter
D
. Travis read the words that followed it:
    D URATEK . W ORLDS OF POSSIBILITY, CLOSE TO HOME .
    He recalled the commercial with all the smiling people, the one that didn’t seem to be selling anything, and once again he frowned at the odd slogan. He had always looked forward to the sense of possibility that the wind brought. But sometimes possibilities could be frightening things.
    The vehicle rolled up Elk Street and out of sight, and Travis went back to collecting empty glasses.

8.
    Deirdre Falling Hawk stepped out of the Silver Palace Hotel, her black biker boots beating a war-drum tattoo against the planks of the boardwalk.
    It was almost time.
    She slung her black-leather jacket over her shoulder and surveyed the empty expanse of Elk Street. It was early, and the sky was a dull steel bowl. However, already the coolness of dawn was beginning to lessen. Right now she was comfortable in her white tank top and black jeans. In an hour, no more than two, she would be sweating.
    Deirdre slipped a hand into her pocket and felt the small square of paper she had found last night, tucked into her hotel message box. There was a need for swiftness. All the same, she took a moment to lean against the boardwalk railing and greet the day. Too often in the hurry and action of their lives people forgot to halt for a minute and say a prayer, or contemplate a great question, or simply look at the world. But no matter how urgent things became, shealways remembered to stop and steal a moment for herself. As far as Deirdre was concerned, the