The Pilgrims

castle to World’s End, through the fishing villages by the Godstears Sea, across the hot smouldering ash of Inferno’s Grave, through the icy peaks of Nightmare’s Crown, heard by all who had hearing. Those asleep had fleeting, grief- filled nightmares of beautiful things being broken; those awake had shivers down their backs. Not many knew what it was they heard.

18

Case opened his eyes, bleary with the light of a sun he couldn’t see in the ivory-white sky. If he’d had dreams, he’d forgotten them. His legs and back thanked him for all the recent walking by making it feel as though he’d spent the night being drawn and quartered. His knees were especially polite in their thanks.

He looked around for the sun, but it hid from sight, if it was even up there at all. He’d been entertaining some notion that this world was right next door to the old one, like two balloons stuck together, and that it had to physically exist under the same sun, even if for whatever reason no one back home had seen this place. But ah, that familiar smell of grass on waking! (This was not the first time it had been his bed, not by a long shot.)

The burbling sound of a nearby crowd was what had woken him. There ahead was the exit he’d stumbled through, before collapsing on the lawns outside the huge white castle, and — Christ on a crutch, look at the size of it! It made him feel like he was a little speck of sand. He’d seen from the sky in the winged woman’s arms that the castle was sculpted into some sort of deliberate shape. It was still too close here to see what the shape was, but Case had an inkling that before him was a gaping open mouth, which alone must stretch for half a mile in either direction, or more.

People milled about on the lawns. Despite a sprinkling of bald heads and greying hair, they seemed mostly university-aged, their clothes of plain make. Some were European-looking and light-skinned, blondes and redheads; some were darker, with faces distantly Oriental. But to Case’s eye, there were no clear distinctions between types, and the crowd could, he judged, be of one ethnicity. Almost all were unhealthily thin, and all eagerly jostled towards the open part of the gate through which Case had exited the castle. A bunch of guards with spears angled downwards stood on the platform near the steps, barring the way in.

He sat up, stretched, his head a little seedy.

‘Hello there,’ a voice said behind him.

Case wheeled around, startled. A young woman sat on the grass, legs crossed, hands in her lap, watching him. She had short blonde hair and wore a long green dress that seemed medieval in style, tight on her body but loose around her arms. Her face was friendly, plain and pleasant; he’d found as he got older that young women all looked amazing to him, like a whole new species entirely more beautiful than they’d been when he too was young … but he did not desire them in the way he had in his youth, any more than you’d want to screw a beautiful sunset. How long had she been there, watching him sleep? And what in God’s name was the appeal in the sight?

‘Morning,’ Case said. He pondered the problem at hand, and could think of no classy way to say it. ‘I don’t mean to offend, but, if there’s some kind of bathroom around here …’

The woman laughed. ‘You need to relieve yourself?’

Case nodded, feeling his cheeks redden. ‘Normally not in public, you understand. I don’t normally sleep in front of castles either.’

‘I shall look the other way, be assured.’

‘Thank you.’ Case worried that some of the crowd would look over as he pissed in the grass, but they seemed too busy trying to get up those steps, pleading with the guards, who ignored them. Then he remembered the charm still around his neck — they wouldn’t see him.

And yet, the woman had …

Case turned. ‘You can see me?’ he said. ‘How’s that, then? You know about this?’ He shook the beads around his neck.

‘I know about your charm,’ she replied. ‘That is, I know you wear one. Not how you came across it.’

‘Is it broken?’

‘Its spell won’t work on me. Those people can’t see you. A few who’ve wandered past turned their heads at the sound of snoring coming from some invisible source. It was loud. I thought you had swallowed a large, angry hound.’

Case hesitated then sat back down near her. ‘Why can you see through it? You a witch or something?’

She laughed. ‘I’m a friend.’

‘Friend?’

‘Yes. Shall I prove it? Here.’ In her hand now was a goblet of wine. He hadn’t seen her pour it and saw no bottle nearby. She offered it to him. He liked the look of her accompanying smile very much: intelligent and sweet. And Case would have taken the drink had she snarled like a dog. Yet …

‘Pardon me. Last thing I’d want is to offend you. But we have a saying where I come from. If something’s too good to be true, it usually is. And to me, the best thing I could think of right now is a nice-looking young lady with a free cup of wine in her hand.’

She laughed again, and the laugh — aside from making him feel exceptionally witty, which he knew he wasn’t — gave her face a sparkle that made Case ashamed to have doubted her. She said, ‘That is a very wise saying. We have a saying here, too. If you see an Otherworlder asleep on the castle’s lawns with a very powerful charm around his neck, pour him a drink!’

Case considered. ‘Cheers to that.’ He sipped and found the wine as delicious as if not better than the cup he’d skolled last night in Vous’s chamber. If it’s poisoned, what the hell. It tastes good enough, he thought. And she’s not a bad last sight to have. He took the luxury of draining the cup more slowly this time.

‘I suspected you would enjoy that vintage,’ said the woman with another smile.

Case frowned; did something in her smile suggest that she knew what he’d done last night, stealing the lord’s drink? If so, she didn’t seem to mind. He wiped his mouth. ‘So that’s what you call us? Otherworlders? I’d figured this was the “other” world, and ours was the real one.’

‘That is probably to be expected.’

‘You know, some people from here came into ours first. That’s why me and Eric came in. Well, he came in, and I followed him. Long story.’

This seemed to interest her. ‘Oh? How many from our world entered yours?’

‘Hard to say, miss, I wasn’t watching the door the whole time. Three or four I know of. They robbed a newsagent. That’s a kind of store we have, back home. Took a whole bunch of paper, then jumped right back.’

‘Paper! Is that all? Gold or magic or scales I could fathom. Why such trouble for paper? Or was there writing on the paper? That must be it. Trade for the groundmen, I assume? Not the paper, of course, but the language on it. To them, such would be priceless.’

‘Wouldn’t know, miss. And I never heard of groundmen.’

‘Of course, of course. Do you know how many from your world are roaming through this one?’

Case sipped the delicious cold wine and felt in a relaxed, conversational mood. ‘Me and my friend that I know of. Some others tried to get in, but didn’t make it far.’ Case shut his eyes at the memory of those bodies, for he too easily pictured this young woman lying dead among them. ‘Rather not say more on that, if you’ll excuse me, miss. You got a name, or should I keep calling you miss?’

She smiled. ‘In fact, I don’t have a name. I seldom have need for one. Call me Stranger, if you like. Does that suit?’

‘Well sure. I’m Stuart Casey. Case for short.’

She inclined her head. ‘I have no name, you have two! Is that a custom of your people?’

‘Most have three names, first, last and middle,’ he said, then delivered a brief lecture on the practice, which she listened to politely. At its end, he asked, ‘What’re all those hungry-looking people doing over there?’

The woman looked over and shrugged as though the milling crowd was of no importance. ‘They’re here from the cities, seeking work. The Aligned cities send their sons and daughters, since wealth is hard to find back home. The castle takes some, but most are turned away. They keep coming back, though, every day. Case, I notice you often look skywards. May I ask why?’