In the center of the Garden, Deadeye Rand stood on a stage they had set up for the event. He had behind him a number of the Sanctuary’s administrators, powerful Six-Guns from all over who took care of the Sanctuary. Calvin also spotted an odd sight, a lady Six-Gun. An older woman sporting a short head of black hair stood on the stage near Rand. She wore a buckskin vest with long tassels, and knee-high riding boots. Her hat was folded on one side, giving her a distinct and intimidating profile.

  “Oh my God.” Buster gasped, “It’s Eveline Price! The Undertaker is here!”

  “Undertaker?” Calvin blinked.

  John shook his head, “How’d I guess you wouldn’t know?”

  “You don’t know HER?” Buster grabbed Calvin by his shirt and shook him, “That’s the Undertaker! The greatest Diamond of this decade!”

  “Calm down, you animal!” Logan shoved the clown off of him. He turned to Calvin, “Eveline Price is one of the Posse’s strongest members with Diamond-Type Resolve. She’s extremely advanced. Power like that is rare. The Diamonds worship her like a goddess. You and me don’t have to feel the same way.” He snickered.

  “Cause we ain’t Diamonds.” Calvin scratched at his chin.

  “That’s right. Diamonds are all about who’s the most lethal, the strongest Resolve, the greatest power output. Gets them fired up. I couldn’t care less.”

  As they spoke, the Deadeye began his commencement speech.

  “Six-Guns of the Smoky Mountain Sanctuary.” He smiled, that bushy mustache curling across his face, “It is my pleasure as Foreman of this great stronghold, to welcome our newest entrants into the Hallow’s Eve Examination event.”

  He was welcomed with hooting and hollering, swarthy whistles and shouts. Calvin let a wave of excitement lift his spirits. The Foreman raised a calloused hand and silenced the crowd.

  “As you all well know, this exam is a tradition going back for decades. The Gunslinger himself came up with the idea. For our young Guns today, this is the first time they will be evaluated and assigned an accurate rank according to their abilities. It is a perilous test, as are all tests in this great Posse, but the entrants into today’s exam have my full confidence.”

  For a moment Calvin felt the Deadeye look right at him, a moment of understanding between them.

  “Alright let’s just get on with it.” He continued, “I have two special guests witnessing the test today. Let me welcome the Diamond of the Dakotas, Eveline Price!”

  The crowd of Plaids and Guns erupted in a roar of applause as the Undertaker stood and waved a hand. She was elegant and deadly, curtsying while offering a playful middle finger. Elise watched in utter admiration, having no idea such a stark femme fatale existed among the gruff gunmen.

  Rand shook his head with a chuckle, “Boy you never fail to disappoint. I’d also like to welcome the Star Card from Tennessee, Jack Rawley! Stand up Jackie!”

  The man next to Eveline, dressed in a black three-piece suit and Bowler hat, got out of his chair and offered a more conservative wave.

  “What’s a Star Card?” Calvin scratched his chin, “That a different suit we don’t learn about?”

  “Oh, er, no.” Logan shook his head.

  John elected to explain, “Star Cards are the Posse’s representative to the United States. A representative for each state is appointed by the Posse, and that person is made a Star Card. They act as diplomats to the state governments they’re assigned to. That guy works with the Tennessee government to make sure the Posse’s actions are sanctioned by the state.”

  “Every state has them except a few.” Logan nodded, “I think it’s Idaho, maybe Delaware too? I don’t remember. There’s also two Star Cards in Washington D.C. who act as liaisons to the US Federal government. We don’t really deal with the Feds that much, though.”

  “Are they special Guns, like super strong?” Asked Calvin.

  “Naw, they ain’t supposed to be too strong or anything. Just have to be good diplomats, good at schmoozing.”

  The idea that the Posse would have to interact with the government never crossed Calvin’s mind before. He had learned about the history of the US while studying in the Sanctuary, but it seemed as if the Posse was completely separate from any political body.

  “Anyway,” Deadeye Rand continued, “Jackie here is gonna sanction today’s test. All evaluations will come with his signature and mine, making them eligible for formal induction into the Possepedia. And with that I’ll quit yammering. You all stay safe, keep your heads, and report to the Exam witches for Translation to the Black Forest. Life is amazing, y’all!”

  The crowd continued to cheer as the exam entrants all waved and tossed around their hats. The spirit of the Smoky Mountain Sanctuary was high, for almost everybody around. As the entrants began to disperse, three tall Guns made their way over Team Bootknife. One of them sporting the unmistakable Rodeo Clown makeup on his face, red diamonds painted below his eyes. The other two wore white Stetson hats, something Calvin found peculiar.

  Elise, however, did not find their hats all that strange. She had come to recognize the look of a Calhoun in dress clothes. She found herself gawking at the older of the two guns, his grey-silver hair poking from underneath the white hat. His face held a solid strength to it, it could be seen on his jaw and cheeks. He looked comfortable with himself as he strode over. While not identical, he looked like John. The younger of the two Calhouns approaching bore a more striking resemblance to her gun. Her heart raced a little as they came closer, she didn’t think she was going to meet members of John’s family.

  Pulling his silver flask, Logan watched on without speaking. He preferred to let the parents address their kids without his input. He was watching closely, however.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Well, look at Johnny boy!” The younger of the white-hatted Guns gripped John in a headlock, “Ballsy taking the test so early! I’m impressed!”

  “Let go of me, Shep!” John pulled himself away, face flushed red.

  Shep Calhoun let out a laugh and held out his palms. “Ok! Ok! No touching the big boy. Seriously though, pretty badass getting an eval in your first year! Even if you are still puny.”

  “I think your brother is trying to say he’s proud of you.” The older Calhoun shot him a muted smile, the nature of which Elise found inexplicably hard to read, “Shep told me he had to come for your evaluation. He might actually like you, John.”

  Having caught himself John stood straight up and took a step towards the older Gun. He breathed in deep, trying to make himself as tall as possible. His eyes still, the older Calhoun stared him down. Those blue eyes appeared unphased by the display of confidence.

  “Dad, “John’s voice had taken on a heavy tone, “I’ve been training hard for months, day and night, to take this test. I’m a real Six-Gun now, a real Calhoun. I insist that you shake my hand.”

  The younger daughter of Shaina Grey watched in silence, floating behind Calvin Baird. She suddenly found her nerves had taken her in the face of John’s father. He was an imposing figure. She recalled her chance meeting with Calvin’s dad. While this lacked the intensity of Billy Baird, and his horrifying Resolve, the elder Calhoun carried himself like a king among men. His gaze, his Resolve, his posture all commanded Respect. Billy was more playful and childlike, nothing about him screamed ‘Respect me’ like with the man in front of her partner Gun.

  Taking in his son’s words, the elder Calhoun stood silently for a moment.

  “No, I don’t think I will.”

  John pursed his lips, trying to let the insult glance off of him.

  With a solemn nod, John’s father continued, “As is tradition in our household, I will shake your hand, Six-Gun to Six-Gun, when your card reads seven or above. Does your card read seven, John?”

  “No.” John lowered his head.

  This was an odd idea, to Calvin. There must’ve been history behind it, some kind of precedent, but he simply didn’t understand the need to pressure John so soon before the exam.

  “Them’s the rules, Johnny boy.” Shep slapped him on the back, “I didn’t get a handshake from dad until I had a seven either. You are doing so good already, should be easy.”

  “I agree by the way,” Roger Calhoun pat John’s shoulder, “I know what you’ve been doing. While I have my reservations about you learning from Hearts, the Bootknife is a real Gun. Elias Crickett is even more interesting. I believe that you’ve worked hard, but I will need to see the fruits of your labor before I give you that handshake. You know that.”

  The youngest of the Calhouns had wrestled out only a nod. He didn’t have any words in response. The acknowledgement, while not what John wanted, hit his gut like a bowl of Logan’s alchemical beans. He successfully stifled a smile.

  “And this is your partner witch?” Roger nodded to Elise.

  “Er, yes Dad. This is Elise Grey.”

  “Miss Grey.” Roger smiled, “Mind coming out?”

  Elise timidly stepped out from behind Calvin, who himself only stood with his hat brim cocked low. He didn’t want to get in the way of his team’s reunion with their families. Blonde hair tumbled about as Elise struggled to control her nerves.

  “Hello, Mister Calhoun.” She bowed, “I have made a pact with your son John.”

  Her polite tone floored Logan, who never himself believed Elise could act this way. Calvin and Buster were both equally shocked, the latter of which had found himself in the embrace of his father. Remy Haime mimicked his son’s look of shock, out of solidarity.

  “What’s the deal?” The elder Rodeo Clown whispered, “Why are we so floored?”

  Buster leaned up to keep his voice low, “The Calhouns broke Elise. She’s never this nice.”

  “John, this is a beautiful young lady.” Resolve-lit eyes studied Elise.

  She could feel the inspection from the older man. It didn’t feel revolting, as did the looks from some old-timers. It didn’t feel completely innocent either, like the blue gaze of the older Baird. She was being appraised, as a witch and as a woman. Her nerves threw her magic into a less stable state.

  “Yup, you’re fortunate to have her, John.”

  The youngest of the Calhouns nodded, his pride inflating him. “Elise is the best witch for me. She challenges me in ways that make sense, forces me to be better.”

  The words of endearment brought Elise back down from her anxious perch. They struck Calvin a little harder than he would have liked. That old knife ached in his back, his shame for not being selected. He wanted to present Elise to HIS father, as HIS witch, and be able to tell everybody all the ways Elise improved his life. There were many to speak of. Calvin’s low smile dropped, visible only barely under his hat brim. This was a proud moment for John, something Calvin knew he had been waiting for. It was a moment of affirmation for Elise. Calvin knew this day wasn’t about him, especially not this part. He decided to keep his mouth shut.

  Watching John and Buster interact with their fathers, both young Guns introducing their witches and discussing how long this road had been, Calvin suddenly felt very isolated. His eyes traveled around the Garden, where so many of the young entrants had older families and friends greeting them to give some confidence before the big test. Calvin was a little soldier on his own, he stood by without anything to say, letting the loneliness of it all dig at the four-year-old wounds in his chest.

  “And this must be your other teammate.” Roger took a few steps toward Calvin. “The son of the Southpaw.”

  “My name is Calvin.” Cal’s tone sharpened.

  The wrinkles on Roger’s face went stiff as he narrowed his eyes. “Yes, Calvin. I know your father.”

  He extended a calloused hand. Calvin looked at it for a moment, letting the silence do the talking. That handshake, an assertion of superiority from a noble sorcerer, felt familiar to him. He did not take Roger Calhoun’s hand.

  “Not one for a handshake, huh?” Roger cocked his head a bit.

  Calvin looked him in the eye, green eyes meeting blue, “I’ll shake your hand when your card reads seven.”

  The disrespect threw the rest of Team Bootknife into stone silence, including Logan. This was completely unexpected by all except Roger himself. He saw contempt in Calvin’s eyes, a challenge behind his soft smile, utter distain in the relaxed posture. He saw Billy Baird, as if he was standing right in front of him.

  Roger lowered his hand, “You’re his son, alright.”

  “I keep hearing that.” Calvin didn’t back down, “Not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  “Me neither.” The elder Calhoun turned away from him.

  “Anywho, good luck to you John.” He stepped a few steps away from them, turning as Shep joined him, “Good luck to you and your witch, as well as your teammates.”

  The Calhouns left Team Bootknife with a moment to contemplate, particularly Calvin. He didn’t know where these feelings were coming from, but he felt just a little bit of that anger welling up. Roger Calhoun wasn’t what he expected. He was starting to get why John felt the need to perform in the evaluation.

  “Calvino, wanna meet my dad?” Buster poked him.

  “Oh, yeah of course.” Calvin extended a hand, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Haime.”

  The older Rodeo Clown made a serious face, “I won’t shake your hand until your card has a seven! If you get an eight or above, there will be no handshakes.”

  Both Buster and Calvin laughed at the exaggerated face. Remy took Calvin’s hand, his own covered in a white roper glove. “It’s great to meet you. Buster talks a lot about you in his letters. I’m so glad you and him are friends.”

  “You and me both.” Calvin turned sunny again.

  “I am going to be watching y’all closely. I really think you’ll do great. Just remember to keep your heads.” The Rodeo Clown pulled his own head off of his shoulders, a concerning Comedy trick.

  Buster and Calvin both jumped back, trying not to crack up. John, however, wasn’t paying any attention to Remy Haime. He stood stalk-still, eyes locked with another Six-Gun in the crowd. Following his eyes, Calvin noticed Vincent Willerbee standing across from them, similarly motionless amongst the flutter of flower pedals and dancing of young Guns. He wore a malicious smirk, the violence burning in his Resolute eyes.