The Pilgrims

‘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.