The Pilgrims

56

They did not fly high enough for a commanding view of the landscape, but the road could soon be seen dissecting the woods, which stretched as far as sight to either side of it. Every so often down in the trees were lone dark shapes standing motionless: Tormentors, perfectly still. One was far larger, standing well over the surrounding trees. What’s more, that one wasn’t very far from the road, over which a wagon train now passed, its passengers oblivious to the deadly peril nearby.

Yet there weren’t really enough of the monsters below to explain the vast number of tracks across acres of forest floor …

Though his legs dangled over a lethal height, and though its touch repulsed him, Eric never thought the war mage would drop him. He had a feeling the creature felt it had ‘rescued’ him from the dangerous wolf and, seeing it would lose its fight to the death, had no choice but to flee and carry Eric to safety. He had tried asking what it now intended, or why it felt a need to serve him in the first place, if that was indeed its purpose, but its answers were too cryptic to understand.

As they flew into buffeting air, the scrub gave way to rolling fields and remnants of villages with overgrown fields, abandoned wagons and no people in sight. Great blue glass-like domes round as balloons bulged from the earth like massive swollen eyes. To Eric they looked like some kind of covered city, marvellous to behold.

The war mage’s grip was tight about his chest, its scraping breath in his ear. Thin threads of magic wound towards the flying mage as though attracted to it. When they passed through denser veins of colour it would put on a burst of speed. The hateful woods were soon gone from sight completely and, as much as he feared for Case still amongst it, this brought no small measure of relief.

Every now and then the war mage set down in a safe clearing below to rest, and ease itself of the heat which accrued in its body from the efforts of flying. Eric wished he knew what to think. Two drops in the river, it had said. Had that meant that he and Case followed the same current, the same path, and would end up in the same place? ‘Do you take me to Elvury?’ Eric asked it. His last attempt to threaten it with the Glock had failed, and now the war mage seemed unconcerned by it.

It cocked its head, animal eyes peering at him, then it seemed to bow. ‘A servant,’ was all it said. Yet, unless he was mistaken, the next time they took off, they had changed direction, almost as though it had taken his question for instruction and agreed to follow it.

Sleepless hours passed in this fashion — flight, rest, flight — until before long mountains loomed on the horizon.

Both Case and the wolf watched them fly above the line of trees and out of sight, this time headed south-west. The loss of his friend, maybe for real this time, made Case feel so hollow he didn’t care, just then, whether or not the wolf meant to rip his throat out.

It didn’t appear to want that — back by the river it had lowered itself and gestured with its head for him to get on, after all. Now it stood panting to get its breath back, head sunk as though it felt worse than Case did. Christ, how he wanted a drink.

He got off its back and dropped to the ground, wincing as his bad knee flared at the impact. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ he said. ‘Too bad my pack’s back there with all the food in it. Hope you know that horned bastard saved our lives. Now what do we do?’

Case had turned away and was kicking at the undergrowth as he spoke, so it came as a surprise when a strained voice answered: ‘It saved you? Tell me.’

He wheeled around and saw a sight that made him recoil. The wolf was changing into a man, but was only partly finished. It lay sprawled and shrinking, the beginnings of a face forming from the mess of the wolf’s splitting jaws. Its fur had already been shed. With loud cracks the bones broke and changed shape.

It took minutes before the change was complete, and a man crouched in the midst of the shed hair. His age was hard to pick, maybe in the forties, face dark with stubble, lined and creased, hair brown but greying and swept up in two ridges at the sides. He was clad in an overcoat that was green at first but soon shifted colour to match the speckled pattern of the background of trees and undergrowth. Far Gaze watched him and waited impatiently. ‘Well? Speak!’

‘Sorry, you kind of startled me. I don’t often see that kind of thing. Strange world I come from, eh?’ Case wearily told him what had happened with the war mage and the Tormentor. Far Gaze held up a palm when he’d heard enough and said, ‘We have a long way to travel. I won’t trouble you with an account of what I went through to find you. Or of how tired I am. Imagine I simply appeared, for your benefit, a protector, humble, eager to please, with no pains and cares, no wish but to assist.’

Case shrugged. ‘It’s a deal.’

‘You will ride my back. I will be unable to speak to you, and I may have trouble understanding you. If there’s anything important to tell me, do it now. This … process, is less comfortable than it looks.’

‘You’re about to change back into a wolf?’

Far Gaze didn’t bother answering. He lay flat and writhed around in great pain, retching sounds in his throat, foam on his lips. The white fur he’d shed before gathered itself about him again as though drawn by magnet. More sprouted from his neck and face. Case said, ‘Can I ask something first? Why did you attack Stranger?’

‘Who?’ Far Gaze said through gritted teeth which lengthened and moved.

‘The woman in the green dress.’

Far Gaze looked at him, grimacing as his bones cracked, extended and reshaped. ‘She means … ill. Whether she … thinks she … helps or … not. She steers us to … foul futures, your own … steps leading us all … down their paths. Why we all … follow you, only … the Spirits know. May my … sight be faulty. Maybe it is. Maybe-’ his speech became unintelligible.

Case threw his hands up with frustration. ‘You know, it didn’t seem like a hard question to me. Where I come from, if you try to bite someone’s throat out, you have a reason you can sum up in a few words. Slept with my wife, ripped me off, whatever. You’re almost as bad as the guy with horns. He was a beat poet and a half, let me tell you. All you magic types crazy, or is it the rest of us? Maybe it sounds to you like we’re the ones speaking in riddles.’

But Far Gaze said no more, for his jaw fell away and two thick pieces of bone assembled around the gap left there like closing pincers, fur sprouting from them, fangs lengthening. Soon the wolf was back, big as a horse, climbing awkwardly to its feet and lowering its neck again for him to ride.

After a brief internal debate, Case got back on and grabbed its neck tight. The wolf sprang forwards, clumsily at first, as though adjusting to its new form, before picking up speed and bounding through the trees, unmindful of the long groping branches that broke on its flanks.

Case hung on and waited, endured the sting of scraping branches, his eyes shut because every tree trunk looked like it was about to smack them head on. He didn’t much care what happened now … after parting from Eric so many times and having so many unlikely reunions, he couldn’t see luck favouring them yet again.

Nor was he able to see the Invia high above, the survivor of the two who had witnessed his passage from Otherworld, back near the castle. She had seen the disturbances in the air that indicated powerful recent spells, and had come for a closer look. She watched him pass with keen eyes, recognising both him and the charm in his pocket: she had been searching for both.

Neither Case nor Far Gaze saw her swoop after them, maintaining her height for now and waiting for a good moment to approach, her wings beating at air thick with magic.