The Pilgrims

they would’ve handed him a broom if he showed up at their temples. He’s worth more, these times. Casters are rare. Not many left to teach, not many game to wield magic, in Free country or Aligned. War mages still hunt em down.’

‘You said there weren’t war mages in Free Cities.’

‘No. But castle pays bounties, so people got rich hunting em. In Aligned places, magic’s been outlawed a hundred years.’

‘Outlawed. What a pretty word,’ said Anfen. ‘Ditch full of bodies, it means.’

Said Sharfy, ‘Castle can wreck a lot of things, even in just a century. Rip up books, burn huts and villages, knock down temples, steal wards and charms and totems. Stuff that’d been around through it all, theirs now. His. The magic schools, their High Elders wouldn’t have believed how the world would look today, if you told em, back then. They were so strong and wise. Wiped out quick.’

‘How about the magic schools then?’ said Eric, suddenly likening Sharfy to a kind of knowledge-jukebox, and imagining sliding a coin into his mouth.

The song played: ‘Used to be five schools, one for each Great Spirit except Valour, who don’t have magic. A bunch of small temples and such too, which were nothing to do with the gods: local to a region, usually. You’d know where to go to get healed, or blessed, or get charms made or charged up. Some’d train your horse for you so it was almost as smart as you were, could understand every word you said. All for a price, of course. Not cheap, and people didn’t like em for that. The big schools were sometimes hated. Would you feel bad for someone who refused to cure your son cos you couldn’t pay up, when it’d only cost em a spell, and maybe some pain to cast it? So no one cared too much back then when the new castle lords said they were going to do something to the magic schools.

‘But people didn’t understand, the magic schools stopped the Cities fighting each other. Not always, but sometimes. Just by being there in the background, with Mayors not sure what they’d do if war broke. So when the castle got taken over by Vous, no one worried too much. The schools wouldn’t let em do anything too crazy. They thought.’

‘This is recent history, but before our time,’ Anfen interjected. He rubbed a dead stone on his blade while he walked, still stuck with the army-issue sword stolen from the dead soldier. ‘When we were born, much of the wrecking was already done. Not all, though. Not all.’

‘Were these magicians actually a threat to them?’ said Eric. ‘The schools, or the folk magicians?’

‘Not if the castle left the magicians and everyone else alone,’ said Sharfy. ‘But they meant to do something no one would like: take over all the cities, all the land, all the people. That’s just for starters. Then there was their “Project”, the point of the whole thing, the reason they needed the castle and its air full of magic. Ask Loup what the castle looks like these days to a mage’s eyes! Frightening, is what. No decent mage would’ve let em do it. Soon as word got out, the schools would’ve done something.’

‘I invite you to try telling Vous someone’s not a threat to him, anyway,’ said Anfen with a laugh. ‘Rumour long held he’s terrified of his own shadow. I never quite believed that, until …’ But he fell silent and seemed to reproach himself, as though he’d said too much.

‘When it all began, they said they were going to leave the folk magicians alone,’ said Sharfy. ‘The mongrels who knew a little of this and that, like Loup. Folk magicians didn’t like the schools, who looked down on em, tried to boss em around sometimes, told em what magic they could or couldn’t do, arrested em if they disobeyed. So the folk mages weren’t upset when the castle started taking on the big schools.’

Said Anfen, ‘The new lords told each school they only meant to reform one or two of the others. It was easy to play them off — lots were rivals and enemies. But all this talk was stalling for time, so no allegiance between schools would seize back the castle. Which they might have done, if they’d stopped their cursed bickering. Then a thousand war mages poured out of the castle in one flock, before anyone even knew what war mages were. No temple was ready for hundreds of them descending at once. It was a terrible battle. Not many from that foul army returned, but they’d done their job. In just a few long nights of death, they’d done their job. Unique and precious charms were seized, and that was no trifle. Many of them, Vous wears right now.’

A small-game creature that looked vaguely like a hairy pig burst through two trees and scuttled slowly through the undergrowth ahead, not the least mindful of the creatures nearby, higher than it on the food chain. Siel darted after it with her curved knife drawn, not even bothering with an arrow. Soon they heard the animal squeal with surprise as it discovered it was lunch. Eric said, ‘Would Loup be able to defend us, if a war mage came?’

Sharfy laughed and slapped his knee. ‘He’d be blood in the grass! He wouldn’t even try to fight. He’d not get himself near one in the first place. He’d know what paths to take, when to hide himself in the woods so danger can’t find him. Maybe he didn’t even know there was a war mage after him. He’d just see a cloud’s shadow pass over, see something in it, and know he had to hide. That’s why someone like Loup looks crazy to us half the time, but we listen to him.’

Dead leaves crunched under their feet, and the trees about them grew denser. Siel returned with the animal already gutted, drained and slung about her shoulders. The ends of one of her long braids had evidently dipped into the beast’s carcass, for it was caked in blood. Eric tried to think of her splitting it open, hoping it might douse some of what he felt — a bizarrely powerful feeling moving up and down a spectrum from animal lust to tenderest love — but after days and nights of fear, exhaustion, exertion, he only wanted her more.

‘Is she still behind us?’ Anfen called to Loup, meaning Stranger.

‘Not for a few days now,’ the folk magician replied. ‘She’s trailed back, ’less she knows a way to hide from other mages that I never seen before. Maybe she does! Handy? Oh aye, that one is. Now let’s sit down a while. We’re not long from being through these woods. But there’s danger ahead whichever path we take, and not far either. Rest a spell and we may miss out on some of it. If not we’ll be crying and moaning at the next poor group to blunder through, our blood splashed on the tree trunks, bones getting kicked along in the dirt.’

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,