Chapter Two
Dahlia Rancher slapped the mayor of Dangritown right across the face. She put her whole arm into it and snapped her wrist and the crack of her palm hitting his cheek echoed off the garden walls. He was a tall, corpulent man, but he reeled, tripped over his own breakfast table, tried to catch himself on the tablecloth, and went sprawling in a jumble of scattered prawns, slices of beef, and spilled beer. She felt like a dozen hornets had stung her palm all at once, but she wasn’t done, and she pulled her knife out of her daily pouch.
“If you ever touch me again…” she snarled and took a step toward the mayor.
“Help!” he howled. “Hurry!”
The back gate of the garden burst open and a pair of sturdy men in matching orange tunics dashed into the garden. Then they saw Dahlia and ski
