The Pilgrims

flying behind her, mouth parted. She grasped Eric in her arms, clutched him to her naked body then dived straight down, taking him away from the sky before the castle could draw him into its maw with a deeper breath, as it wished to.

Instead down they plunged, back towards Faul’s house, the roof approaching very quickly. She let him drop back to where his body had flung itself on the floor — but, surely, she saw Anfen’s Mark. She flew skywards and sought her sisters for help in killing one so dangerous.

Of this, Eric knew nothing. His ears, mind and soul were filled with that one word the dragon-youth Vyin had spoken. Too much meaning for him, despite his partial understanding of it. And he would walk the path he’d been going to walk before, knowing only that it was as it should be and that he should not stray from it, though perils shoved him or lured him from either side.

40

It was still night. Dazed, he opened his eyes, and let the memories of the vision come back, little pieces at a time slotting into place, like a dream whose every last detail could be remembered. He felt the vision had not ended as it had been meant to, that there was more to see … perhaps inside the castle, where he had felt himself being drawn, before the Invia had grabbed him against the vision’s natural flow and taken him back.

Why had the creature done that? A sinking feeling in his gut came as he knew then that they had brought the Invia to Faul’s house, that they had caused that disaster. Loup had been wrong: Anfen had been no fool at all. He’d known very well there were dangers.

Eric lay with the stone of the rock tower cool beneath him, Case and Kiown snoring either side of him. Somehow, he felt as rested as if he’d slept a full night and more. In his eyes were effects like the after-image from looking at light: there, swirls in the air of shimmering colour, veins of pulsing light on the night sky. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, but the colours remained. In his vision, he’d seen these too, and known what they were. Magic. That stuff’s magic, what makes a spell happen … He could still see them; thinner, here, than they had been higher up in the sky.

Waving a hand past his face, his fingers blocked them off. So, it was no trick of his eyes — they were really there, and perhaps had been all along, albeit hidden. Loup’s voice: Wouldn’t tell me what she saw, but she was … different, after. Glad she went, oh aye. Went on to big things …

Could Loup have been just as right as Anfen? That having the vision was important enough to risk whatever had gone wrong? His eyes fell on Kiown, still sleeping right next to him, issuing that thin, high-pitched snore. The first part of the vision suddenly blared in his mind like an alarm.

Heart beating fast, Eric carefully got up from under their shared blanket and stepped away, watching Kiown’s sleeping face, head tilted and mouth open as though to catch raindrops. His snoring paused at the disturbance, but he didn’t wake. Eric feared suddenly for Case lying next to him. And for himself.

Stay calm, he thought. Kiown could have killed us already. That’s not his plan. He intends something else. Pieces of conversation, little things, suddenly came back to him: My contacts in Hane. The city was Aligned — why would Kiown have contacts there? And how would they know, as Kiown had said, to expect him?

Anfen says hello. Impulsive foolishness, at the wagon train raid? No, but intended to look like it. A message to the ‘high-ups’ as he called them. How obvious it seemed now.

The way Kiown had ‘courageously’ approached the roadside patrol. Perhaps he’d known he wouldn’t be harmed. Had they expected their spy? Kiown’s voice: Such people do exist. You’d be surprised. They’re called Hunters, I’ve encountered them.

Eric didn’t have the gun — Case did. It would be easy enough to get it and deal with Kiown while he slept. Deal with? he thought. How gently phrased. Kill him, you mean. Point, click, boom. In his sleep, or do you warn someone that they’re about to be killed? Look them in the eye first? It won’t be pretty. You’ll carry it with you for life. You be careful here …

And if he didn’t do it, would Kiown lead them to their deaths? Did a bounty await him in Hane? But if he was on the castle’s side, why had he kept them all up on the tower to avoid the passing armies? Then there was the little issue of being stranded here, in Aligned country, on their own. With rapidly dwindling supplies. Supplies he’s been very anxious to get through — so we’re more dependent on him …

Eric looked at the horizon, wishing he knew how many hours the vision had taken. The night sky showed no sign of dawn, not yet. He paced, his heart beating fast, not knowing what to do. He had to think. Loup had said: this is meant.

What was meant? Perhaps that he should see the vision now, but not before setting out with Kiown. Why?

If I’d seen it before, he thought, I might have shot him in the inn that morning.

And they’d have wandered, lost and aimless, perhaps headfirst into death or capture. Was he meant to travel with the spy, the traitor? Was Kiown meant to guide them to a certain point? How would he know when that point had come, when it was time to run?

If he’d seen the vision now, perhaps the time to leave was now.

In Eric’s pacing, he hadn’t noticed that Kiown had stopped snoring, that his eyes were open, and were on him. ‘Has Nightmare returned?’ he said drowsily. ‘Perhaps to seek your counsel, O Eric, road-walker?’

Eric laughed, nerves betraying him. ‘Just can’t sleep.’

‘Mmm. Your world must be very different. When trying to sleep, we lie down. Happy pacing, then.’ Kiown’s eyes closed and, after a time, his snoring resumed.

Over breakfast, Eric didn’t let on what he knew, though he hoped it wasn’t written as plainly on his face as he felt it was. How badly he wanted five minutes alone with Case to talk, but he was afraid to ask Kiown to leave them be. Kiown meanwhile seemed his usual chirpy self, babbling about what comforts awaited them in the city. If he suspected Eric knew something, he didn’t show it. He kept teasing Eric about Nightmare as they polished off the last of the innkeeper’s goods for breakfast. The bread was stiff by now, but the meat and fruit were still good. Down by the road, the army patrol had gone.

‘One last day’s walk,’ said Kiown, stretching as he stood. ‘Hot baths, steam rooms, whores, cooked meals. That awaits us, O Eric, breakfast-eater, O Case, his loyal steed. I am going to hire three whores at once, I think, and pay them extra to battle naked for the right to my cock. The winner gets it first. The others will just have to make do with what they have. For a while.’

‘Is all this available in an Aligned city?’ said Eric, hoping the question sounded casual.

‘If you know the right places and people,’ said Kiown, gazing across at the chimney-smoke rising from beyond the hills. ‘Or the wrong ones. The wrong ones are usually more fun. And yes, I know them. Just because the castle owns the city doesn’t mean everyone there loves them for it. Most don’t, and wish to leave. They can’t. The soldiery and a few overseers are the only ones living well.’

‘Are you absolutely sure we’ll be safe in such a place?’

Kiown now gave him a look which seemed, for just a second, to be shrewdly appraising him. He said, ‘Safe, you ask. Nowhere’s safe. Even if we had run of a Free City, it wouldn’t be safe. The world is deadly dangerous, O Eric the timid. Haven’t you noticed?’

Eric said evenly, ‘I have. Here, danger has a way of … sneaking up on you, I suppose, from unlikely places. When your back’s turned. As it were.’ The instant he’d said it, he wished he could just suck in a deep enough breath to take the words back with it. Why do it, why turn this into a game? he furiously asked himself. The answer: he wanted to be sure what he’d seen was real before potentially taking a life. It had seemed real in the vision, and his bones still felt it was, but here, now, in the light of morning …

And he got his wish. Kiown looked at him without talking, seeming shocked for just a moment then suddenly wary, eyes darting from Case to Eric. A laughed forced itself belatedly out of his mouth. ‘Yes, yes, yes! You are quite right. You may even say there is no such thing as an unlikely place from which danger should spring upon one. But, how cryptically phrased, O Eric the intriguing. Is there something on your mind?’

‘No,’ said Eric, affecting casualness again, though too late, he sensed. He stood and gathered up his