That night, the group stopped to rest. They all sat around the campfire, tucked between a pair of rock formations while they ate dinner. There, Evelyn kept telling stories.
She talked about a few specific moments — like the time she got trapped in a saloon because she had run out of money to pay her tab and had to fight half the people inside to get out. Or the time when, together, the Sisters of the Horizon robbed a couple of important figures from a large city and had to stay on the run for two full weeks. At that point they had no resources and nowhere to hide — but they kept moving until they reached a great canyon.
It was through those small exploits that these women began to make a name for themselves.
Since a cat had always been spotted at the scene of the crime, Evelyn had been given the nickname Thieving Cat in the newspapers. She hadn't minded the name at all — in fact, she loved it, because she felt it captured everything she was as an outlaw. With Lady, though, it had gone differently.
The journalists didn't know where she came from or what her intentions were, and they still don't. What they always noted was that she dressed well and carried her hunting rifle everywhere she went. Over time, and given that her aim was humanly impossible, she earned the nickname Deadeye Lady. Even so, she still prefers to simply be called Lady.
As for Victoria, Evelyn didn't say much — only that she was a tough woman of the desert who had seen far too many things to recall them all by firelight. People tend to call her La Señora, though she supposedly had many other names before settling on that one.
And that, at least, was the short version of everything that had happened.
Bonnie checked her saddlebag. She had only two cans of beans left. She had been eating the same thing for days now, and she was already starting to resent the sight of sweet canned beans.
If she were being honest with herself, she wished she could eat the things she used to eat back at her father's house — but it was a shame she could never go back.
She looked at the can with a quiet sadness.
Sitting across from her, Lady glanced briefly at Bonnie and then looked at Evelyn, who gave a small nod that seemed to say: go ahead. Lady didn't hesitate for a second, pulling out a harmonica and playing it with practiced ease.
That pulled Bonnie's eyes up from her can. Victoria, meanwhile, looked relaxed — a faint smile on her face.
"I'm a great singer," said Evelyn. "And Lady is wonderful on the harmonica. Want to hear one of our songs? We're not that terrible, I swear."
Lady played a few quick notes on the harmonica, generating a lively rhythm that cut off just as suddenly. She looked at Bonnie, waiting for a nod.
"Oh… Well, I love music — opera especially," Bonnie said. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to hear something with that wild outlaw spirit."
Evelyn clapped once and said:
"You asked for it. Lady — give me a beat."
The harmonica rang out. The melody was quick and sharp, but with a soft, mocking, burlesque edge that somehow made Bonnie think of only one person — Evelyn.
Then, without a word, Victoria patted her knee to add some percussion to the melody.
Thieving Cat rose to her feet, raising one hand and giving an elegant bow like those at opera performances in the grand cities — as though she were directing the song exclusively to Bonnie. She even smiled at her with a hint of playful flair, throwing her a wink, which left Bonnie momentarily breathless.
Those red eyes, glowing in the firelight, sent a mysterious feeling straight through her — one that almost stopped her heart.
"I've been such a very bad little kitty," said Evelyn — and the song began.
♫
In a moonless back alley,
where the wind has its say,
lives a lazy little cat
no one sees passing by.
She sleeps when the sun is rising,
beneath a roof or a door,
but when the dark of night falls
she wakes up to hunt once more.
♫
Evelyn's voice was surprisingly melodious. It was so beautiful that Bonnie couldn't believe so many insults and grim words had ever come out of that same mouth. The contrast was so sharp it was almost funny.
Though in a way, something similar could be said about her. The helpless Bonnie Jones — someone who wouldn't be capable of hurting a fly — and yet she had killed people.
Evelyn raised one hand, her smile showing how much she loved to sing.
♫
Oh, Thieving Cat,
now where will you hide?
Your red eyes keep on glowing
where no one else can see.
Oh, Thieving Cat,
you fooled me so easily —
you brushed right past my shadow…
and now my gold is gone.
♫
Bonnie furrowed her brow.
'Those lyrics… Is she singing about herself?'
At that moment, Lady intensified the harmonica's rhythm, following Evelyn's voice with perfect timing. It almost seemed like they'd rehearsed it beforehand. Even Victoria — who had come across as the most serious of the group — had been pulled in, clearly enjoying the nighttime tune. She moved her head slowly, keeping the beat and maintaining her steady hand percussion.
Bonnie looked down at her hands. Then she looked at Evelyn and sighed. She started to clap, adding another layer of rhythm.
♫
From the shadows she watches
without a single sound,
and whatever you hold dearest
becomes the prize she's found.
She eyes the gleam in your pockets,
the chains and the ruby bright,
the coins you thought you'd hidden,
thinking they were yours by right.
When you least expect it coming,
when your guard begins to stray,
the cat glides right past beside you
with elegant precision.
♫
The queen of the night, the one they called Thieving Cat, had written a song about herself — and her friends sang it alongside her. Three, for one another — the Sisters of the Horizon.
Bonnie's eyes lit up. This was… remarkable.
Their four shadows against the rocks trembled beyond this physical world, as though their souls were something broken — set apart from the ordinary people who lived on the other side of the frontier.
♫
Oh, Thieving Cat,
now where will you hide?
Your red eyes keep on glowing
where no one else can see.
Oh, Thieving Cat,
you fooled me so easily —
you brushed right past my shadow…
and now my gold is gone.
♫
They were ordinary people once — now condemned to live in constant motion.
The harmonica slowed a little, but kept its mocking rhythm.
♫
I searched my sack and jacket,
my boots and my belt too,
but all I found was silence
and a feeling strange and new.
Then somewhere in the distance
a laugh rang bright and free,
as if the night itself was mocking
everything that happened to me.
"If you loved your gold so dearly,
you should have watched it well,"
that laughter kept on whispering,
lost in shadows where it fell.
♫
Evelyn laughed and clapped at the same time as Bonnie.
♫
Oh, Thieving Cat,
nobody can catch your trail —
when we think we've nearly found you
you've already slipped the veil.
Oh, Thieving Cat,
queen of every trick and turn,
all you leave behind is laughter…
and the memory of my mistake.
♫
The harmonica faded out, slowly bringing the song to a close. Evelyn pointed at Bonnie — the main audience for this little performance — but all Bonnie could do was stare at her with complete, unguarded wonder. Her heart was burning, but her body had gone still.
If this were her previous world, it wouldn't have stirred anything in her at all. In fact, Samuel Calloway had always been drawn to the kind of music many mothers considered too rough — so at first glance, a song like the one Evelyn had just sung wouldn't have caught his attention. Unless, of course, he had been watching the singer up close, enjoying every word of it herself.
A song sung from the heart — that was what could truly be called art.
Bonnie was speechless.
"So? What did you think, sweetheart? You'd pay to hear another one," said Evelyn, sitting down beside Bonnie.
"Oh — well, I…"
She looked at her half-eaten can of beans.
'It was absolutely incredible. Damn, it was too good.'
Evelyn watched Bonnie with expectation.
"Speechless? Excellent. That's the first time I've sung that song in front of anyone other than Victoria and Lady. I'm glad you liked it."
"That song… was it about yourself?"
Lady let out a small laugh.
"She wrote it the first time she saw what they were calling her in the papers. 'Thieving Cat' on the front page," Lady said, shaking her head to keep herself from laughing. "She stayed up all night writing even though she's terrible at it."
"Hey! But it turned out a masterpiece, didn't it? You have to admit I have talent."
"Tremendous talent," Victoria added. "Both for singing and for stealing without anyone noticing at the time."
Bonnie sat in silence and watched those three women talk with each other, lively and at ease.
'Maybe there's a whole story between them… I feel out of place — and this is going to end soon — but… it's not bad to enjoy moments like this one.'
They were making her forget the thing that gave her that persistent, restless anxiety.
"Alright — another one! Your turn, Victoria. Sing something for the young lady."
"I'm not doing that. You sing — you have the voice for it."
"The audience has spoken, then," said Evelyn.
The night closed in around laughter, songs, and shadows warping strangely in the dark. By the following day, the group would be on its way to a large city near the border of the State of New Providence in Gramond County — where the mystery waited.