The Pilgrims

27

That afternoon the mist cleared, but what it revealed was not comforting. Among the clumps of ruins they finally came across remains of recent campfires in a big clearing, the first sign of human life since they’d stepped off the roads and into these haunted woods. Anfen turned to Loup. ‘This was the safest way?’

The magician bristled. ‘You mark me, it was. By all the signs I seen and still see. Never said we’d not have to be on our guard, did I?’

‘Weapons,’ Anfen called wearily. ‘You too, Pilgrims. The peace couldn’t last forever. Inferno cultists are nearby.’ Eric drew the sword he’d plundered from the dead castle soldiers. The blade had a notch in it halfway up but was sharp enough. It was not time yet to risk showing off his secret weapon, the gun in its holster. Case held his sword like a walking stick with no pretence at combat and yawned like he’d rather be napping, thanks.

They fanned out, Sharfy with his smoking knives staying close to the Otherworlders. Anfen walked in the lead, lithe as a dancer ready to burst into a flurry of movement. They carefully stepped through the stone bricks of a demolished old cottage. Discarded clothes lay here and there, as did cups and plates recently used. There was an open tome set on a piece of log with indecipherable symbols on its torn page, flapping in the breeze. But there were no people.

‘Dead wind ahead,’ Loup called. ‘Steer right.’

Something blew through the ashes, kicking up a little shuddering whirlwind of them. There was a faint shimmering effect half a man’s height above where the ashes flew.

‘Survival lesson, Pilgrims,’ said Anfen. ‘That little disturbance there. If you see such when no breeze blows, stay away. Sharfy, demonstrate.’

Sharfy rummaged around in a pile of unused firewood till he found a long thin branch. He approached the dead wind with great care, as though it could change direction and come his way, then poked the branch into its midst. As soon as it touched the shimmering part, the stick wrenched out of his hand with a sound of breaking, then vanished.

‘No one knows where the stick went,’ said Anfen, picking up a stone and throwing it into the dead wind, where it also vanished. ‘Beyond World’s End, for all we know. But a dead wind means Inferno cultists have been here. It’s leftovers from some of their rituals.’

‘Two more, yonder,’ said Loup, displeased Sharfy had got so close to it.

‘I don’t fathom this,’ said Siel, peering at everyone with her dark eyes wide. ‘These are fresh tracks, two days old at most. Where are they? Look over by that fire. Do you see the chopped-off arms and legs lying about? It’s fresh, not old bones! A large gang of them had a ritual here. They danced around a huge fire. They had an orgy. See the loosed shackles and ropes? They had victims to toy with, likely kidnapped from the road. They cast their foul magic.’ She poked at the footprints with her boot. ‘There are some marks here I don’t understand. The tracks all rush off, that way.’ She nodded ahead, where the ground sloped down out of sight. ‘No patrol came through here to clear them out. But something scared them away.’

The surrounding trees were tall, silent and watchful. Anfen said, ‘So perhaps they’re all waiting for us, just over that rise there. Siel, wear the charm please and scout ahead.’ He tossed her the Invia’s necklace.

Siel’s returning footsteps disturbed the leaves and sent Loup into panic, fearing a dead wind coming right for them, until she spoke. ‘Come. You should see this. It’s ugly.’

‘Are we in danger?’ said Anfen.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied, removing the necklace and becoming visible. ‘But if we are, it’s not from cultists.’

‘You sound very sure of that.’

‘Oh, I am. Come see.’

They crossed the sloping turf and came to an old hunters’ hall, solidly built though many of its thick logs were rotting. A kind of shanty town of lean-tos and tents made of animal skins spread around behind it. Tracks were visible here, even to Eric’s untrained eye, of a panicked stampede to get away from something and into the hall. Through its windows — no glass, just square gaps in the wood — the scene was far worse. Corpses lay in twisted piles, like a giant thresher had been through the crowded place. From within a horrible reek came that tugged at Eric’s memory. ‘Sharfy,’ he whispered. ‘That smell. In the caverns, remember? Back near the door. The dark passage we couldn’t see into …’

Sharfy nodded. ‘Weaker here, but it’s the same smell. We walked right past whatever did this.’

Anfen stood in the doorway gazing in. A mask of blankness closed down on him, making his young face lifeless as a stone statue. ‘Don’t come closer, Pilgrims,’ he said quietly.

‘Another fine stop-off courtesy of our friendly guides,’ Case whispered, pulling Eric by the arm out of earshot of the others. ‘Have you had enough of these people yet? Where are they taking us anyway?’

Eric groaned. ‘Maybe ask them? Case! Who the fuck else is going to look after us here? We’re in the middle of nowhere. We don’t know a thing about this place and there are dead people every time we turn around! Do you think you know the lay of the land better than them?’

Case said nothing and Eric knew his words had ricocheted without effect.

‘Look here. They tried to barricade the door,’ said Sharfy. ‘Something smashed it in.’

‘Can anyone think of anything, anything in the world that would scare twenty or thirty Inferno fanatics so badly they’d run screaming for cover? Let alone kill them all in such fashion?’ said Anfen.

‘Not mid-ritual,’ said Sharfy. ‘They go crazy. I’ve seen em at it. Nothing would scare em. Anything that might kill em gets em more excited.’ He said in a lower voice: ‘That’s why midritual’s a good time to kill em.’

Anfen moved from the doorway and gazed at the treetops as though to cleanse his vision. Eric noticed that for a good while afterwards, the troop leader was reluctant to look directly at any of them and seldom made eye contact. At his feet near the door there were scratches and gouges in the turf, as though someone had hammered spikes deep into the ground in some random pattern then removed them. They were clustered in a rough trail which ran back past the site of the bonfire, from which the cultists had fled, then turned almost at right angles back to the trees. It had been easy to miss at first, partly hidden by foliage and dead leaves.

Siel donned the charm and followed the trail, little scuffs in the dirt indicating her footsteps. Something screeched from the trees and everyone jumped. A huge black bird flapped skywards, ugly as a vulture, cackling as though amused. An arrow sailed after it from Siel’s invisible point in a graceful arc, visible only well into its flight. It landed tip-first in the dirt.

Soon she returned, fetching the arrow on the way. ‘Not far in, there’s a groundman tunnel gap, larger than usual. The strange tracks lead right to it. Two pit devil corpses nearby.’

‘Pit devils didn’t do all this,’ said Sharfy with finality.

Siel removed the necklace and gave him a rare smile. ‘Oh?’

‘No way. Wrong tracks. Too far from the tunnel opening. And the bodies didn’t look like devils got at em.’

Siel nodded like an attentive pupil. She said, ‘That may also explain why one of the devil corpses has been picked up and impaled through the chest on a tree branch, quite high up.’

There was no talk for a moment. ‘How high up?’ said Sharfy, as though this changed things.

‘Three times a man’s height. Both bodies marked by holes like those tracks, punctured by many spikes. Shall I take you? Your analysis will be … useful.’ Eric had a feeling she didn’t like Sharfy very much, nor anyone else who ever lived. Except Kiown, perhaps …

‘We’re not going anywhere near it,’ said Anfen. ‘Everyone move. We are not camping in these woods tonight.’

Eric took Anfen aside. ‘I don’t think Case is up to another long march, let alone a long, quick one.’ He didn’t say, fearing it would sound silly: He also needs a drink the way a sick man needs medicine …

‘He’s going to have to be up to it,’ said Anfen. ‘Unless death is his preference.’

‘How much further?’

Anfen’s jaw clenched with annoyance. ‘A full day’s march, then the going gets easier. There’s a friend of ours out the other side of the woods who will give us shelter as long as we need it. Maybe even a drink for your friend. I see his hands shaking and his temper, but it can’t be helped.’ To the company he said, ‘Let’s move.’

At that moment something dashed through the hunters’ hall doorway. A young woman in a woven wool skirt and jumper, both torn, running with a limp. She was barefoot, eyes wild with fright or rage. Her clothes and skin were coated thick in dried blood, which made her hair stand stiff. Panting, she stared at them like a wild animal unsure whether to flee from them or go nearer.

Anfen stepped towards her. ‘You’re safe, don’t run.’

‘Safe!’ The girl — midway through her teens — barked bitter laughter. Her teeth showed white through the dark stains, as though this was the lone part of herself she’d been determined to scrub clean. Anfen unstrapped the scabbard from his belt and let it drop to the ground, stepping towards her again, palms open. ‘Safe from us, at least. We’ll feed you if you tell us what happened.’

‘I’ve eaten,’ she said, and laughed again. It was a horrible sound, despairing and caustic.

Anfen said mildly, ‘Very well, but I suspect our food is better. Our conversation, too.’

‘Leave the food there, then go,’ she said. ‘You won’t need it any more. They will get you too, if you’re worthy. I alone was not. Inferno sent them to collect us. He was pleased with the work we’ve done.’

‘A mysterious Spirit, Inferno, to compliment you this way.’

‘Yes!’ she said eagerly, teeth showing.

‘You have been through a lot.’

The girl’s demeanour shifted before their eyes, as though conflicting wicked forces wrestled for her emotions. Her head slumped forwards: something won the battle. She said no more. Anfen took her arm and guided her back to the others. He left her with Siel then picked up his sword. Siel looped a rope around the girl’s waist none too gently and handed the other end to Sharfy, who tied it around his wrist. The girl gave a dark look to them both; she had clearly not expected to be tied.

‘Where is your home city?’ Anfen asked her.

‘I have none. No past. Lalie is dead, I am her corpse.’

‘Where was it, before you fell in with Inferno?’

‘Fell in,’ she snarled, mocking. ‘He calls all who are worthy.’

‘Worthy of death like cattle in a slaughterhouse,’ said Anfen. ‘Worthy of running to cower in their tombs before they die.’

The girl gave him a look of hatred made terrible by the blood coating her.

‘I have fought with “unworthy” men who stared at death and marched towards it knowing where they went,’ Anfen continued mildly. ‘They did not run screaming into a hall to bar the door. Or hide there beneath their dead friends’ bodies.’

‘You want to stare at death?’ she hissed, shivering with rage. ‘Come inside! You are not worthy even of Offering. Come and see, brave man with a sword. See what Great Inferno sent us. All you know is ash.’

‘Hey now!’ cried Loup. ‘That’s a curse, what she just said. She’s got no kick to give it, but she’d try, if she did! Other things might hear her too, you never know. You watch yourself here, Anfen, and maybe gag her if she keeps up that rubbish chatter.’

Anfen’s eyes narrowed. ‘It’s still in there, whatever did all this?’

She laughed at him. ‘Come and see!’ She headed back to the hall, dragging the rope like a leashed dog. The despairing laugh rang loud across the clearing. ‘Come and see! You won’t come, brave man.’

‘Don’t go,’ said Siel.

But Sharfy and Anfen followed the girl in.

‘See by her manner,’ muttered Siel. ‘From her speech. She’s from a good home in a Free City. Elvury I’ll guess.’

‘Oh aye,’ said Loup gravely. ‘She’d have been warned of these cult people, but sought them out for adventure. They’d not need much encouragement to keep her. Pass her round the campfire like a bottle of wine. And she’ll bite the hand reaching to rescue her.’

‘What is this Inferno she was talking about?’ said Case.

‘He’s a sick and weak old Great Spirit,’ said Loup. ‘Good as dead, buried in the Ash Sea. Other Spirits joined up to battle him, the myth goes, after he spun out of control. Long, long time ago. Weakest Spirit has the keenest followers. I can’t figure it. Not even Nightmare’s crowd get as worked up as this bunch.’ He shook his head. ‘They try to revive Inferno, like it’s as easy as lighting a big fire. That’s why they dance around fires, torture people, eat each other and all the rest. How it’s supposed to impress Inferno, no one ever explained to me. And he ain’t waking up … oh no, other Spirits’ll never allow that.’ Loup sighed, dropped to the ground and took the opportunity for a few minutes’ sleep. In moments he was snoring like a dragon, while Case scratched his head in confusion.

Inside the hall, Anfen and Sharfy, weapons drawn, showed no reaction as the girl led them through the carnage, eagerly watching their faces. She grew angry and fell quiet when they did not retch or flee the scene in horror.

Most of the bodies were in the front half of the hall, evidently an attempt to hold the menace out. Or perhaps it was a rush for the exits when it came inside. Two parts of the broken door had been hurled to far corners of the room.

‘Your friends did not appreciate Inferno’s gift, it seems,’ said Anfen. ‘That’s hardly polite.’

The girl shut her eyes and sat on her heels. She did not want to be here, it was obvious, but had hoped to spite them with the horror of what had happened.

‘Is there or is there not anything to show us?’ said Anfen, growing angry in his turn. ‘You’re wasting precious time. If you think we are impressed or scared by death like this, you are wrong. We have seen it before.’

‘And worse,’ said Sharfy.

She laughed bitterly until Sharfy menaced her with his knife. Anfen held an arm out to stop him. The girl, cowering, pointed to the far corner of the room.

Anfen approached it, steps very careful, blade angled for a quick strike. Something small moved in the shadows there. There was a sound of scratching on the wood floor. A length of something that looked like intertwined tree roots made from dark glass twitched on the floorboards. A heavy two-handed axe lay near it, its blade badly notched. ‘I see one of your friends, at least, had some heart,’ said Anfen.

‘Brave man,’ cried the girl, mocking. ‘Our High Priest could only cut off a hand, with an axe as big as that! What would you have done?’

If it was a hand, long curling spikes — four of them — were the fingers. They looked sharp as knives. Spikes of similar length ran in ridges up the length of its wrist. The finger-blades still groped and clutched. The floor around it was covered in scratches and sawdust.

‘How long ago?’ said Anfen. ‘And how many were there?’

The girl laughed at his disquiet like she’d finally got her victory. Sharfy again showed her his knife. She looked at him hatefully, but spoke: ‘Night before last. Three of them. Two did the … did it all. One stayed outside and didn’t move for hours. Even when the others had gone.’

Anfen put his blade in the middle of the groping ‘palm’. The finger-blades closed on it like the arms of a trap, its grip tight. He lifted it from the floor and the three of them gladly left the hellish place, even the cult girl’s relief obvious.

Loup, baffled, examined the hand. It twitched and groped at the dirt like a sick crab. ‘Nothing like I ever seen or heard of,’ he said. ‘Some kind of magic in it, hard to see its type.’

‘This thing casts?’ said Anfen, incredulous.

‘Doubt it. The magic doesn’t flow in or out. Just kind of packed in there real deep. Might be magic’s what made it. Kind of reminds me of some magic gadgets them Engineers make … whole thing could be an invention, not something natural. Can’t say. If that’s a hand, it’d stand pretty tall, maybe a tall man’s height and half as much again.’

The girl laughed. ‘Bigger. And that’s the small one. The small one!’

‘Oh aye, lass. You’ve been very brave.’ Loup gave her a look of sympathy and her gaze dropped. He and Sharfy wound strong rope over the hand several times, then put it in a leather bag, discarding some things to make room. The hand still twisted and jerked, the fingers bending in many directions.

‘Is there any more you will tell us?’ Anfen asked the cultist. She scowled at him and said nothing. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Cut her loose. Goodbye, Lalie.’

The girl looked suddenly panicked as Sharfy cut through the rope. ‘What are you doing?’ she said.

‘Did you think you were captive?’ said Anfen. ‘No. You are a mouth to feed and a risk. I could tell Sharfy to do to you some of what you and your friends did to others until you talk, but there’s enough on my conscience, and his. You are on your own in these woods with Inferno’s gift, since you’d prefer that to a hot bath, cooked meals and a bed. May it kill you quickly.’

‘Now don’t you leave this girl here alone,’ said Case.

‘Case, don’t,’ said Eric.

‘Don’t yourself. All of you should be ashamed. She’s scared and on her own. Something terrible happened here and you can’t just leave her.’

‘Perhaps she’ll tell you how many innocents she helped slice to pieces or burn alive for her dead Spirit’s favour,’ said Anfen.

‘He’s not dead,’ the girl said, glaring.

Anfen strode away, in the direction of the clearing’s far side. The others followed. Hot tears brimmed in the corners of Case’s eyes. Behind them, the girl stood mute in the clearing, a mix of bitter emotions in her face. Case looked back at her before passing through the trees. ‘Lass, maybe you should tell them what you know. You can join us, they won’t hurt you. Maybe you’ll get cleaned up and taken back to your home and your folks.’

She scowled at him. ‘I don’t want your pity, old fool, and I don’t want the touch of your fingers under a blanket at night.’

Case looked at her. ‘Your world must be as sad a place as mine, lass. I hope you’ll be OK.’

Her lip trembled. Case didn’t turn back as he heard her footsteps hurrying after them.

‘Good job,’ Anfen murmured to him as the girl ran towards them, tears sliding through the muck on her face. ‘But we will have to watch her.’

Case blinked at him, surprised. ‘I wasn’t playing a game there, friend. I thought you were willing and able to leave her here alone. And I meant it all.’

‘I did too.’ Anfen met his gaze with flinty eyes and Case backed away from him.