Part 4 (1/2)

Eric hadn't come with her. He'd lingered to stare at something in the field beyond, where there was the beginning of a small wood. She followed his gaze. A lone figure stood at the edge of the trees, watching them. She had time only to see that the figure's clothes were dark before it was gone, vanished in a blink of her eyes. Instinctively she reached for an arrow before remembering that b.a.s.t.a.r.d Sharfy had mangled her bow before they'd fled Elvury.

Eric still stared. 'There he is,' he said.

Something in his manner was disquieting. She s.h.i.+vered, wondering if she were even safe turning her back on him, let alone safe from whatever else was out here. She'd have preferred him preoccupied with l.u.s.t like he'd been in the haunted woods.

It would be easy enough to abandon him ...

But whatever leaders.h.i.+p remained of the Mayors' Command would sorely want him. And his weapon, which could slay Invia with such ease. She had no intention of killing him and taking the weapon, but it was a possibility she was aware of.

'This way,' she said. 'Keep your gun ready.'

4.

The rumbling of stoneflesh feet was now part of the background, so that in spite of it there seemed an eerie quiet. They'd ventured directly east from the Great Dividing Road, Siel checking behind them for any sight of the stranger. Eric had not yet spoken.

She said, 'When we saw the man back there. You said, there he is, or similar words.'

'I said that?'

'Yes. What did you mean?'

He was a while answering. 'Don't know.'

'Nor I. But you were not surprised by the sight of him. Or were you? Did you know him?'

Eric gave a funny laugh. 'Actually this will sound strange. But it almost seemed ... I meant there I was. I don't know. Guess I'm just tired.'

She didn't ask him to elaborate, for his answer worried her.

The foot-worn path branched off. There was a village not far along but a look at the tracks said many feet had just come through here. She crouched down, waiting for happenstance magic to show her something. There was no guarantee it would, but it was the right time in her cycle to see things. Willing it to happen encouraged but did not guarantee a vision.

Waiting, waiting aha! A glimpse of rough men hurrying by, hunting dogs with them, running down the slope along the path. Weapons out like they expected a fight. They appeared and vanished in a second, a lonely second of the past thrust forward (or had it cast her back? She could never tell). The men may have been there a thousand years back or just yesterday. Or minutes ago.

There were no clear dog tracks here but she decided not to risk it; another village waited a few miles ahead and she could hopefully forage enough edible roots to keep them going. For the hundredth time she cursed Sharfy's name for breaking her bow and depriving them of the chance to hunt.

The abandoned countryside did not tell her much. They should have come across at least the occasional wagon train or traveller. Abandoned crop fields balmed her concerns about food. From these they ate and stuffed their packs with vegetables.

She was eyeing off the tall stalks of a distant cornfield as possible shelter for the night when a group of dark shapes emerged over the rise to their left. There were twenty of them, some with tall walking sticks. One had a flail. What she didn't yet know was whether they were real or a glimpse from the past. 'Do you see them?' she said.

Eric nodded and pulled out the small black Otherworld weapon. 'I may not have bullets left for all of them. But after the first goes down, the rest will run.'

But can he actually bring himself to kill a person? she wondered. Even one who threatens us? The mad fool did not kill Kiown.

Siel grabbed Eric and dragged him with her behind one of the th.o.r.n.y bushes scattered over the plain, without much hope they'd be hidden by its thin leafless branches.

'We see you, sister,' came a mournful call, sure enough. 'We see you! Don't run, don't hide. No need, no need!'

'We've peace!' said another. 'To this green land we bring it!'

Siel stood in full view with her knife in hand. 'I should have known by the garments,' she said.

'Known what?' said Eric, standing beside her.

'They are Nightmare cultists. It's been long since I met any. We are probably safe. They don't often sacrifice.'

'How often is not often?'

'Twice a year that I know of. The victim is usually one of their own.'

The cultists walked in ranks of five. They limped and looked starved. Their wails and shrieks sounded like carrion birds. The one with a flail lashed his own back with it then pa.s.sed the weapon to the one next to him, who did likewise. Some of their black robes were already shredded, wounds glistening beneath. 'Come with us!' a few of them cried as the group closed in. There was a reek of infected flesh.

'We're on business for the Mayors. Leave us be,' said Siel.

The whole group of them laughed. Said one, 'Wayward sister! What business? We are the first to go to the new world. You too are invited, by virtue of our invitation, if not the Great Dark One's direct call, which was our privilege alone, for long service given. You may come. We are generous. But you both must walk in the rear rank.'

'Nay! Behind the group, on their own in a rank of two. They may not use the flail.'

Said another, 'It was fourteen nights ago his arm reached down! It is said he laid a gift upon a hilltop tower, a sign for all of man.'

'He did!' cried another. 'I saw it with these eyes, traversed the tower's steps with these feet, and read the signs he left there! He calls us across, Great Dark One, roamer of night skies, shepherd of the icy winds-'

'Bringer of the ice winds, shepherd of the storm clouds, tamer of the brood, roamer of the-'

'Breaker of the Wall!'

With each outburst they came closer, their bulging eyes bloodshot. Eric brandished the gun openly but it was clear none of them perceived it was a weapon. An older man with what had to be a broken forearm fell to his knees, wailing: 'Aye, down he cast it, his hands parting the twin skies like curtains. Come with us, be among the called taking steps of great distance!'

'Have you seen him?' a hunched middle-aged woman cried, her face swollen and bleeding from blows struck by the thick branch in her hand. 'It is said he has roamed these skies.'

'He was west of here, near the Great Road,' said Siel, her tone mocking theirs. 'You should hurry. He awaits you.'

The bruised woman threw herself at Siel's feet. Eric fired a warning shot into the air, the Glock loud as thunder. The cultists shrieked, scattered and ran, then resumed formation and marched south, not one of them looking back, already incorporating in their mythos the gun's firing as some kind of test of resolve. Clearly, they had pa.s.sed it.

Siel and Eric watched them go. 'There are things I could tell them they probably wouldn't like,' he said. He replaced the gun's clip but could not bring himself to throw the empty one away.

Siel's ears rang painfully. 'They are not always so worked up,' she said. 'I have heard if Nightmare's sighted, they sometimes attack people. It's why I was nervous ...' but she trailed off.