Noontime we passed the first dune, signifying a change in the land. The sign on the brothel crossed my mind. Being the last chance—to turn back. There’ll be plenty of good times once we find the gold, I told myself. Large birds with wingtips spread wide like claws of ill-tempered cats soared in spirals, eyeing our movement.

A downpour caught us unprepared. Clouds like vaporous chimeras appeared out of nowhere, whipping their tendrils in thunderous lashings, transforming the dry zephyrs into swirling sheets of harsh sand. We dismounted and blindfolded the horses—our own eyes barely protected by the sagging brims of our hats. Finding no suitable shelter, we trudged through the stinging wind and rain.

Twilight led us out of the storm and into the blackness of the desert night, as dangerous to the eye as the midday sun. We unmasked our jittery horses, then sat idly in our saddles until the moon rose behind us to illuminate the way. Glittering pools formed by the rains stretched beneath us. I looked down into the moonlight reflected in the transformed land. We traveled between two worlds, our own and the shadow one below, reversed yet synchronous. In that other world, a spirit rode behind me. Her arms clung to my waist and her head rested on my back, yet I could not feel her touch. Her clear, sweet voice sang a simple melody. I twisted in my saddle. She wasn’t there.

* * *

We returned to the brothel at dusk and hid behind a trough at the side of the house.

“What do you aim to do?”

“Only what needs doin’.” Little Brother untied his bandana and tossed it to me. “Hide your face and stay put.”

“What about you?”

“He won’t see me comin’.”

Little Brother unfurled a rope and wrapped the ends around his fists.

“I’ll have no part of this,” I said. “A man’s life’s worth more than a coin.”

“Not fixin’ to kill no one. Just teach him a lesson.”

Weren’t but a few minutes and the whoreman came out the door whistling like he possessed not a care in the world.

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