The Pilgrims

‘Well, there’s this — may sound strange to you — but this woman with wings. She’s the one who gave me this.’ He rattled the necklace’s silver beads. ‘She was gonna come get it, then tell me where to find Eric.’

This seemed to interest Stranger a great deal. ‘Woman with wings! So, you have seen one of the Invia?’

‘If that’s what you call em, yes I have.’

Her look said she was impressed. ‘Do you know many regard Invia as creatures of myth?’

‘Not surprised. But she was real, all right.’

‘What did she want of you?’ said Stranger, eagerly leaning forwards. Case hesitated. She smiled. ‘Ah, I’ve hardly told you aught of myself, and here I am, asking all your secrets. But perhaps I can help you find your friend. If, that is, you wish to remain in Levaal, and not go back to your own world again.’

‘Levaal? What’s that?’

She smiled. ‘That’s what this world is named. Another word for its meaning is link.’

Case frowned thoughtfully. ‘Link. Like in a chain?’

‘Yes. Have you a word for a chain-link which also acts as a protector of something?’

‘Suppose not.’ Case shrugged. ‘If you help me find my friend, I’ll be in your debt, for what that’s worth. Another glass of wine’d hit the spot, too.’ Case had intended this as a self-deprecating joke, and he was surprised to find his cup had filled. ‘How’d you do that?’

‘It is a small trick I learned, but it taxes me a little, so your pardon for leaving your cup alone once you are finished. I also have some ability to see the future. Not far, just a short way, and never beyond what happenstance magicians call event junctions. Or forks in the road, if you will. But you have stepped beyond the last junction and the next one is ahead of you. So I am able to help you, Case.’

He hesitated. She reminded him of a hippie girl who seems to look at all people like they’re fine in her book, even old drunken ones who piss right in front of her. But those hippie girls had a kind of starry-eyed not-there vibe about them. This one didn’t — she was switched on all right, with her bright green eyes so attentive, and he got the sense she was here talking to him for a reason she was unlikely to share. ‘Now, why would you want to help me out like that, Stranger? Are you just a terribly nice lass, or is there more to it?’

‘That saying of yours again! I assure you, had I evil intent, you’d have told me more than enough by now to suit my designs, and told me in a deal less comfort. But you need not worry. It may be I find the act of helping another very good for me, perhaps to right past wrongs. Or it may be that my own interests are aligned with yours, in ways difficult to explain: that I too benefit from bringing you and — Eric, is it? — together again. It may be that to tell you too much of myself would endanger you, or me, or others. Who knows?’

‘Miss, when you smile like that, I don’t much care either way. If you can help me out, please do.’ It was true: it was hard not to trust her, and he even felt a bit silly for his doubt. But she hadn’t quite come clean with him, he noticed …

She said, ‘Very well. Listen, Case. Something happened earlier, in there.’ She pointed to the opening in the castle, just beyond which was the large space where wagons from the underground passage were unloaded. ‘An attack, of sorts, from what little news I heard. There are beings called pit devils. Just pests, but dangerous ones. Many swarmed inside from an underground wagon train. It seems they were herded deliberately.’

‘I think I know what you’re talking about,’ said Case. ‘Saw it myself. Quite a mess, it was.’

‘Yes. Many died, many goods were spoiled, and this is displeasing enough, to them. But more than that, it is a symbolic gesture, an act of open war. It has angered the castle a great deal, signs indicate, and they feel they know who did it. They have sent out patrols this morning already. You may have heard them marching past.’

‘Can’t say I have. I slept pretty deep.’

‘No matter. The next patrol to pass down this very road — it should be within the hour — will head south- west. They will succeed in finding the bandits who did this. They may or may not apprehend them — I am not a great seer, I’m afraid, and that is beyond the event junction. But I can see this much: if you follow that group, you will find your way to Eric. Be careful, of course, to keep your charm on at all times.’

Case digested all this. ‘Well, if this is all true, I’ll thank you kindly. Is it far to walk? I can’t see myself keeping pace with a marching army.’

‘Half a day’s march, more or less. You may be able to ride a supplies cart, if they have one. And, some advice. That charm is very valuable, very old, and very powerful. It is valuable enough that anyone would prize it, especially those with any magic ability. Would you believe the dragon-youth themselves made it, or at least blessed it? I can’t tell which personality. But their touch is still visible upon it, if you’ve eyes like mine. How it glares! Few such things are left in the world. Keep it to yourself until you find someone you trust. We may meet again before long, perhaps when you next need help. Keep an eye out for me.’

Case sensed she was about to leave. ‘Miss? Stranger? One question before you go? That castle there, it’s supposed to be something, isn’t it? To look like something, some big, huge animal. What kind?’

She laughed. ‘A dragon, of course. The Dragon.’

Case turned to try and see it. ‘Hmm. Well, that might be its mouth right there. What’s that long part, over yonder? A tail, or a hand or what?’

But she didn’t answer, for she was no longer there. Case laughed, surprised and delighted. He held up the cup. ‘To your health, miss.’ He sipped the wine, just a taste, so it would last until he had to move. Guess at least not everyone here’s the kind you wouldn’t piss on, if they were on fire. He thought of the war mage, engulfing itself, and winced. And there you go, I even had the chance to choose.

19

The grey stone hilltop plateau was flat as a plate. Their campfire was off to one edge, near the shoulder- height ridge of stone that acted as a shelter, usefully hiding them from the seldom-used road directly below. This hill and the tall cliff across formed a gate for the long mountain pass the band had to travel through to gain access to the roads south and west, and which they should have travelled through last night, had not Sharfy, Kiown and the Pilgrim been too exhausted for it. The rest of the band was awake on the platform further down, cleaning their clothes and themselves as best they could, while the Otherworlder still slept, curled by the fire. It was a cold, dim morning. Thin streaks of cloud spread over the sky like slowly uncurling fingers.

The man sitting across from the Pilgrim on a piece of log by the campfire looked young and careworn at once, with a powerful athlete’s build, and — though his skin was light — something more acutely Oriental about his face than most others in Levaal. His hands dug into the hair by his temples and pulled it enough, surely, to hurt. He was not even aware he did this; in truth he was savouring the quiet and felt as at peace as he could while on the road in enemy country. Before descending into his own black thoughts, Anfen had watched the Otherworlder for a while, wondering what marvels of knowledge he had brought with him. Another hour’s sleep was the most that could be spared, for the hornet’s nest had been kicked, and they were still too close to it. This little shelter was probably as safe as they’d get until well south of here and out of Aligned country altogether. And there was no knowing what spots their windows viewed at any one moment.

Anfen says hello. Very funny. If Kiown had known how perilously close Anfen had been to whipping his head clean off when he heard about that, he would probably have turned and fled, not sulked and made excuses. Kiown thought he’d been hard done by when his troop leader drove an elbow into his cheek and knocked him out cold, the crack! of it still echoing in Anfen’s mind with a morsel of satisfaction. To yell at the guard had been impulsiveness rather than treachery, Anfen had hesitantly bet; but a saboteur could not have done much better. His hand squeezed around the blade of the sword that rested across his lap, and only when the edge bit into his skin did he know quite how angry he still was. He glanced abstractedly at the line cut across his fingers and wiped off the blood on his pants, hardly even noticing it.

Had the Otherworlder just stirred? He examined Eric’s face closely, then had to look away, for Eric’s face was now covered in blood and half smashed apart, its pieces like a broken plate held together by stretching, loose skin. Anfen was not alarmed or surprised by the sight; it was nothing new to him. He had, earlier, seen the young man