The Pilgrims

13

Outside the high tower window she waited, hidden as the Invia could hide even in plain light, as long as she stayed stiller than a statue. His charm she would faintly perceive even through the enchanted walls, and thus follow his progress inside. But she would not save the old man’s life from danger, for there was an extremely powerful mage walking the halls nearby. She felt his presence, and surely her presence disturbed him; maybe like a background noise he’d hardly notice, or maybe he knew exactly what she was, where she was, but was just too busy to bother with her. Yet.

The old man fidgeted nervously on the window ledge, speaking to himself and trying not to look down. She waited ready to catch him if he fell or jumped, and the time passed slowly.

At last, Vous’s daughter began her daily routine. Sometimes, even from high in the clouds, the Invia had heard the girl scream in this way and wondered why. Her curiosity was what had made her choose this window to set down the spy.

The girl opened the latch now, pushed open the glass and cleared her throat. The old man saw his chance and slipped past her. He was inside! Good.

Case had never seen such sadness in all his life, not at funerals, not even worn by those posh grieved parents walking away from gaol after visiting a son who they never thought would be in such a place, face newly busted up and all. This girl topped it all, in her long black gown with her long flaxen hair tied back in a ponytail. How old — seventeen? Twenty? She had one of those slightly heart-shaped faces, with eyes and mouth that drooped a little, and a soft undefined chin. Pretty, but her slow movements and bowed head were grief itself, with — if he wasn’t mistaken — something almost ritual about it. His heart went out to her and for a second he forgot he was meant to sneak into her room.

He quietly ducked past her while she rested her hands on the sill, sad eyes staring unfocused into the distance. If she noticed his feet touching down on her floor she gave no sign.

The room was neat and filled with pretty things: ornaments made of crystal, dolls of all sizes, weavings, knitting balls and needles, and a large plush bed Case felt he could sleep for a week in. There was a ticking device on the wall — a clock? Hard to tell, with those funny symbols on it, and the odd crisscrossing hands at weird angles. The girl watched it, waiting for (if Case judged right) the hour hand to tick over.

A mirror on a stand in the corner showed his reflection as no more than a dim outline, with the insides invisible; what the hell …? Then the beads around his neck clicked just a little when they bumped together, and he remembered the charm. So, it worked. Well, of course it did, you old twit, he thought, the girl didn’t see you, and you went right past her.

Why was she so sad, anyway? It wasn’t for lack of possessions, nor lack of a view. Outside that window, you could see a big portion of the castle down below and, beyond that, the glorious spread of the landscape. Looking out there every day, you’d feel like you owned the whole lot, and for all Case knew, she did. He went to the door, tried the handle as quietly as he could, and found it was locked tight. So, she couldn’t leave. Maybe that explains it, he thought, some of it, anyway …

That was when the girl began to wail. The sound made him jump. She leaned far out over the balcony, head angled up as though she wanted the sound to carry to a higher window, and screamed. No words, as far as he could tell, just the saddest voice he’d ever heard, and it nearly broke his heart.

Case nervously fingered the beads around his neck. He wanted to tell her it was all right, could be worse, she could be an old drunken fool like him who didn’t even have the sense to stay in his own world. He imagined himself saying that to her, and her smiling, maybe a little laugh. Putting his arm around her — no, not like that, just to make her feel better. But she kept on wailing, louder and louder, her voice sometimes breaking.

Peering through the locked door’s keyhole, he saw the backs of people walking past. They had to be able to hear this, but no one even turned to look twice, let alone come comfort the girl. Her cries were edged with anguish now, like she physically hurt. Case squirmed. He couldn’t take much more of this — it was worse than a baby’s crying. The woman with wings had told him not to take off the charm, but by hell she could come here and do something herself, if she wanted to!

Case pulled the chain from over his head. As he did, his reflection solidified in the mirror like normal. ‘Hey, hey now, listen-’ he began.

The girl whipped around, eyes boggling like they were about to pop out of her head. She saw him, gasped, and ran to the door, hitting it with her palms. ‘Help!’ she screamed. ‘Help!’

Running footsteps approached from up the corridor.

‘No, no, wait,’ said Case, backing into the corner. ‘Look, I just wanted to cheer you up, is all. I’m not going to hurt you. What’re you so sad about, crying like that?’

She watched him as though he might turn into a snake or maybe already had, but at least she’d stopped yelling for help. Too late: there was the sound of keys clanking in the lock. Guess I’m screwed now, he thought, before it occurred to him to put the charm back around his neck.

He did it just as the door knob twisted and a dumpy older woman stood in the doorway, wearing an apron and what looked like a plain nurse’s outfit beneath. Her face was mean, Case could tell, the kind of mean that hides behind big insincere smiles.

‘Aziel?’ said the woman in the doorway. ‘You’ve stopped your wailing. Now why do a thing like that?’ She looked at the clock. ‘Not even halfway through! You know he’ll have shut his window already!’

‘Someone …’ the girl began, but she looked from the woman to where Case had been and back again, and seemed to doubt that she should speak.

‘Someone? Yes, someone’s for it, all right. And now I’ll have a mess to clean up next door. You’ve been so good for so long, Aziel, doing your wailing every day like your father loves. Too late now! Without pause. Those are the rules.’

Something seemed to have occurred to the girl, Aziel, and she forgot all about Case. ‘No. Oh no, please, don’t! Don’t let them, nanny!’

The woman’s smile was sympathetic but her eyes were cold, and sucking up the girl’s distress, every bit of it. ‘Don’t let them?’ she cried. ‘Well! What am I supposed to do? Pick up a sword and start cutting off heads? You were the one who could have stopped them. Think about that, when you hear it all. It’s been too long since you did, I’d say.’

The nanny began to close the door. Case didn’t know if he should stay or go, but the closing door was, for all he knew, his last chance to slip out. He did so just as the nanny paused to take another hungry look in at Aziel’s distress. ‘So sorry for yourself!’ the woman said. ‘Spare a thought for me. When they’re done, I’ll be in there with mop and bucket, not you.’ She shut the door and turned a key in the lock, then held her ear to the door, that hungry look still on her face.

Case stood behind her in a wide, curved hallway. Staff in robes of bland grey, male and female, walked past in a slow shuffling gait. They didn’t look twice as two burly guards dragged a naked man, bound and gagged, down the hallway towards Aziel’s room.

‘He’s a big one,’ said the nanny, turning away from Aziel’s door. ‘Going to be a bleeder, isn’t he?’

The guards didn’t respond to her at all. They carried the man into the room next to Aziel’s. There was a large stone bench in there; that was all Case saw before the door slammed shut.

‘They’re about to begin!’ the nanny called through Aziel’s keyhole.

Aziel’s voice could be heard, screaming out her window: ‘Father, don’t! Stop them! Don’t do it! Don’t!’

‘You did it,’ the nanny called through the door. ‘Your wailing, girl. You know how he loves it. You’ve been so good for so long, and your voice is so lovely.’

Case didn’t quite know what was going on here, but he knew that right then he wanted to put his foot to that woman’s rear end more than he’d ever wanted a drink in his life, and only his utter bewilderment stopped him.

When the prisoner dragged into the room next door began screaming, Case thought at last he understood what was happening. He knew that for the rest of his days he’d never understand why, not even if someone told him. Some things, he guessed, you simply couldn’t know, and it would ever afterwards throw his mind sideways to think back on it and try to comprehend it.

He ran from Aziel’s door to get the sound of the slowly dying man out of his ears, and that poor girl’s wailing as she heard it happen, and the woman telling her through the door to listen close, because she’d done it all herself. By the time he was out of reach of those awful sounds, the whole thing seemed too strange to be real, even in another world, and he seriously began to doubt he’d witnessed anything of the kind at all.