by J. F. Penn
As the staircase spiraled up into the upper reaches of the tower, Xander looked out of the slits in the rock which opened to the castle and lands below. On one side, guards trained in the quadrangle in front of huge double doors leading to the children’s wing. On another, a group of women in rags stood around a pile of bloody shrouds, those who didn’t make it out of the Breeding Halls alive. Carrion birds swooped low over the burial pit, their cries a haunting ululation to honor the silence of the suffering victims. Xander looked away and redoubled his pace, Asada at his heel.
As they reached the top of the tower, Xander slowed, taking quiet steps toward the giant wooden door which stood open a fraction. He could hear voices from further inside, although they were faint. Sir Douglas had a whole suite of rooms up here in the tower, so Xander pushed the first door open with a gentle hand and stepped inside.
The plush apartment was cosy, warm with a crackling log fire and animal skins on the walls for insulation. Xander reached for Asada’s mane as he noticed a lion pelt next to a rare leopardskin. Life was cheap here, even more so for animals.
Sir Douglas’s wide mahogany desk dominated the space, a map of the Borderlands placed on top, the corners weighed down with the tiny skulls of children.
Xander started as the voices rose in argument, now clearly coming from the next room. He knew that he should leave now but something about the map drew him in.
The Ministry had many maps of the Borderlands but all were of different parts and they shifted over time. As new places were pushed over the border, the very shape of the Borderlands changed as it squashed some cities closer, pulled apart mountain ranges, and nudged rivers off course.
But this map was a recent survey, a bird’s-eye view of the whole expanse all the way to the Uncharted with the addition of tent cities that Xander had never seen before, each drawn close to portals that he definitely did know about. The biggest tent city near the shadow gate that led into Bath through the portal at The Circus — right in the heart of the city he had left behind.
As Asada lay down by the fire, licking his paws and enjoying its warmth, Xander walked around the other side of the desk. Rounding the corner, his foot knocked against something leaning on the side. A plague doctor’s mask with a long beak once stuffed full of medicinal herbs. Xander frowned at the curious thing. He wasn’t aware of Sir Douglas’s interest in medieval times, but then there was a lot he didn’t know about this side of the border.
The argument grew louder still on the other side of the door, and Sir Douglas’s voice became clear.
“The plague could spread further than we can control. It’s too dangerous. Our people—”
His words turned into a scream, an agonizing sound of terror and pain.
Asada stood, hackles raised, and bared his teeth as the scream trailed off. Xander clutched the table, eyes wide as he stood looking at the door. He wanted to go in there, he wanted to help, but something stopped him, something cold and dark that pierced his heart with a lance of shadow. He didn’t want to face what lay behind that door.
A broken voice stuttered, faint through the door, “I’m sorry, my lord. Please …”
The scream came again.
Xander fled, Asada on his heels as they ran for the safety of the lower halls.
Even as he reached his room and barred the door, Xander knew that something had sensed his presence, something knew what he had seen and heard, something was out there waiting for him.
He sat on the floor, his back against the wooden door. He put his arms around Asada’s neck and buried his face in the lion’s mane once more. Tears welled in his eyes as he wished he could take back the decisions he’d made. How had he ended up here? Was there any way he could fix this terrible mistake?
5
Sienna leaned into the sense of weightlessness as she flew above a world that shifted along an ever-changing boundary. The lines of the walled map morphed into three-dimensional streets next to an ocean that stretched into the distance. The world curved into the horizon and for a moment, she couldn’t tell whether she was in the map or above it. Could she keep traveling up here, far beyond the border?
She swallowed the exhilaration and dived down into the city, giddy with sensation.
The smell of rotting fish and the salty tang of the ocean greeted Sienna as she opened her eyes. They were in a street behind a food market, the shouts of stallholders blending with the call of seabirds above them as they dived down to snatch pieces of discarded produce. Sienna could just make out the ocean beyond the maze of stalls, the clean blue a stark contrast to the riot of color and movement within the market.
Perry crouched on the ground retching.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” he groaned.
Mila pulled him up by one arm. “Come on, we have to get moving. The Shadow guards will sense the breach in the border and we don’t want to be here if they come looking.”
They skirted the edge of the market and headed into the warren of dirt streets that led away from the waterfront. They were dense with makeshift shelters, shacks made of rusted iron sheets tied together with rope leaning up against each other and hung with plastic tarpaulin to keep out the rain. Some were sturdy, reinforced with planks of wood and metal rivets, others cobbled together with flotsam from the ocean.
An old woman sat on a low plastic chair smoking a hand-rolled cigarette, the sweet smell of smoke hanging in the air around her, disguising the stink of the open sewer nearby. She watched them pass with glassy eyes, no trace of curiosity left in her.
A chicken strutted past, pecking at the dust. Dried fish hung in strips from one shelter, pungent with salt. A makeshift kite of rags flew high above, a glimpse of red against the blue, a sign that perhaps there was still some hope here.
“I’ve heard that this place has no name because no one stays long enough to call it home,” Perry said as they walked on. “Thousands of people pass through but none stay to build anything.”
Mila walked faster. “Well, we’re not staying long either.”
They passed people of all cultures along the way. Veiled women of Middle Eastern origin, Africans in bright colored headpieces, and men with the tall blonde features of Slavs.
“How do all these people get here?” Sienna asked.
“If they’re lost on water, they end up here,” Mila said. “The lucky ones might find a place to call home.”
Sienna frowned. “And the unlucky ones?”
Shouting and the sound of drums came from the streets ahead. People on the streets faded quickly into the shadows, alert to danger.
Mila looked ahead, her eyes narrowing. “The unlucky ones find out this is a slave trader town.”
They headed in the direction of the drums, harsh beats that reverberated in the narrow lanes, and soon joined a throng of people heading in the same direction. There were merchants in the crowd, and soldiers too, those who could use slaves perhaps, as well as those in need of entertainment.
The Mapwalker team kept their heads down, merging with the pack as the streets opened out into a large square. The smell of roasting nuts and hot sugar filled the air, and a folk band played in the corner, the atmosphere almost like a carnival as the late afternoon sun lit the square with a golden glow. Sienna looked around at the excitement on the faces around her. Humanity had ever loved to watch a spectacle of suffering.
A raised dais stood in the middle of the square covered in colored streamers, a long metal cage in its center. Soldiers of the Shadow stood around it, their posture relaxed but alert and ready to act should the crowd surge forward. Sienna rose up on her tiptoes to see better. A chill washed over her as she saw what lay within.
The cage contained seven people, five adults and two children, faces desperate as they clutched at the bars. From their clothes, they had only recently crossed from Earthside, refugees lost on the ocean or perhaps they had wandered over the border during some desperate situation. War drove people over here, escaping from o
ne life only to enter another just as dangerous.
The crowd cheered as a muscled hulk of a man stood up on the stage, a wooden cosh in one hand. The weapon was dented and stained with blood and sweat. The slave trader had the ruddy face of someone who enjoyed life too much but the cruel look in his eyes made it clear that his enjoyment involved the suffering of others.
“Are you ready?” he called across the heads of the crowd.
The baying of voices rose to the sky as the mob clamored for spectacle and drama, a moment of escape from their own pitiful lives. Sienna tried to crush down the nausea that rose within as the slave trader pulled a young boy from the cage, his meaty hand wrapped around the scrawny wrist of a nine-year-old with the olive skin of the Mediterranean and the dark eyes of Hispanic descent.
“This one is something special. Found him myself in the camps lighting fires with his magic.” He shook the boy. “Show them.”
The boy cowered away from the man as tears ran down his cheeks, his face frozen in fear. The slave master pushed the boy to the ground and raised the wooden cosh, ready to strike. “Show them, boy!”
Sienna couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She took a step forward, raising her arm in a bid to catch the attention of the slave master.
A strong hand pushed her arm back down, holding her wrist in a tight grip.
She spun around. “What are you …?”
Her words trailed off as she looked up into the face of the man who stood behind her. Dark eyes and the regal features of an African prince.
Finn.
He pulled her away, shielding her body with his own as he led her out of the central area to the edge of the market.
“Are you trying to get yourself captured?” he demanded as soon as they were out of sight of the slave master. He shook his head in frustration. “This place is crawling with Shadow guards and spies who will betray you for a loaf of bread.”
She looked up at him, heart thumping. “Hi.”
Finn took a deep breath. His eyes softened and he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. “Hi.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I saw you there and I couldn’t let you draw attention to yourself.”
“But those people—”
“You can’t help them. You saw the soldiers guarding them, the crowd waiting to see them fall. It’s the same as the Castle of the Shadow. We couldn’t save all those women in the breeding halls, we couldn’t save the children either.” Finn hung his head. “I don’t know who we can save anymore.”
Sienna reached up and cupped his face in her hand. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Finn wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close so their hearts beat together. He bent his head to kiss her, his lips just touching hers.
“Don’t mind me.”
Finn pulled back at the mocking voice, leaving Sienna bereft. She opened her eyes to see a willowy woman with black hair tied back with a leather strap, twin crossed-swords on her back. Scars snaked up her lean muscled arms and her face was marked with the half-moon tattoo of the Warlord. Her tawny eyes raked over Sienna.
“This is the one you turned your back on your family for?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “She must be good.”
Sienna blushed.
Finn cleared his throat. “Sienna, this is Jari. We’re … working together at the moment.”
Mila and Perry pushed through the crowd, emerging at the edge just in time to hear Finn’s words. Jari took a step back, hands hovering near her swords now she was outnumbered.
Mila glanced over at her then directed her question at Finn. “We need a guide to the library and we need to go tonight. We don’t have much time. You know of anyone who might be able to help?”
Finn hesitated and Sienna thought she saw a flicker of uncertainty cross his face, as if he had to make a choice in that moment. She desperately wanted him to say he would come but what did she know of his life now — and who was this Jari, with her stark beauty that was so intimidating?
Jari stepped forward, hands resting by her side now, a half-smile on her face. “We’re free, actually, and we were just talking about a possible journey. It’s been a while since we’ve traveled together, isn’t it, Finn?”
Sienna heard a possessive edge in her words, a hint of an intimate history that made her burn inside.
Finn took a deep breath. “What do you need?”
Mila explained a little about the Map of Plagues. “We need to get to the Library of Alexandria, or what’s left of it.”
Jari laughed. “When you push places out of Earthside, they thrive here. You destroy and write them off your maps, but here, they live again. The library is far greater than it once was. And it’s not too far from here — if you know the mountain passes.”
Her words hung in the air.
Mila looked directly at Finn. “We only need one guide.”
Finn glanced over at Jari and a look passed between them. He sighed. “We travel together. It’s both of us, or none at all.”
Sienna sensed that there was something going on, something that trapped Finn into this arrangement somehow. She could only hope that he would tell her at some point, but for now, they needed to get moving and she didn’t want to leave him behind.
“We don’t have much time,” Sienna said, putting her hand on Mila’s arm. “And we do need a guide.”
Mila bit her lip, narrowing her eyes at the warrior woman. “I don’t like it. Even our friends have betrayed us before.”
Jari shrugged. “Your loss.” She began to walk away.
Finn took a step back, his eyes darting between Jari and the Mapwalker team. “I … have to go with her.”
Mila put a hand out. “Wait. If you vouch for her, Finn, then we’ll accept the terms.”
Jari stopped and turned back. A beat of silence before Finn spoke. “We have fought beside each other in many battles. Jari will keep her side of the bargain, as I will keep mine.”
Sienna couldn’t help feeling that his words had a deeper level of meaning and there was a sadness beneath his tone that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But at least now they would have time together and she could find out what was going on.
Mila nodded. “Alright, let’s get moving before night falls.” Her eyes didn’t leave Jari’s back as the warrior woman led them out of town in the gathering dark.
They soon passed a queue of ragged people lining up for a soup kitchen. There were splashes of color but most were dressed in the brown and green and grey of dirt and mud and broken earth. The smell of roasted vegetables filled the air, the promise of a full belly drawing people here from all over the makeshift city.
A young woman, belly swollen with late pregnancy, leaned against the wall. She smoked a hand-rolled cigarette and as they walked by, Sienna caught the almost sweet smell of marijuana but with a taint of something else underneath.
Finn noticed her confusion. “People will do anything to escape for a while, but the drugs here are often laced with other things — experimental compounds aimed at mutation.”
Sienna shook her head in horror. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“Mapwalkers are born, not made, you know that as well as I do. The Shadow Cartographers seek new strains of magic and they don’t have any restraints on how that’s achieved.”
Mila joined in the conversation. “Unlike on Earthside where the Mapwalkers are dying out.”
“Because we don’t force people to breed like they do here,” Sienna snapped, remembering the Fertility Halls of the Castle of the Shadow.
Finn’s jaw tightened. “Your people on Earthside are not at war. At least they don’t know they are yet, but over here, the drums beat harder every day for invasion, and wars need people to fight them.”
As they walked on, his words echoed in Sienna’s mind. Back in Bath, it was hard to imagine what war might look like, how Earthside could be changed by invaders from the Borderlands, but Finn was right. Mapwalkers dwindled on Earthside, but here they bred new blo
od every day and each birth was a chance that more powerful magic would emerge. Even if they found and destroyed the Map of Plagues now, what did it all mean for the future? She had promised Finn she would help him fight for peace between their worlds, but suddenly that seemed so far out of reach.
The densely packed makeshift housing grew more sparse as the team walked south, past the edge of the shanty town as it spilled into the desert. The night air smelled fresh out here and Sienna took some huge breaths, suddenly aware that she had been shallow breathing in the city to avoid inhaling the stench.
The cry of a night bird called from above, the silhouette of a raptor hovering overhead. Sienna shuddered to think of it swooping down to pick at the carcasses of the dead from the city behind them.
Undulating dunes rose as they walked toward a distant ridge far ahead, the rising moonlight casting a silver glint on its slopes where a path wound up into darkness.
As Finn led them out into the desert, they saw a column of refugees heading over the hill in the opposite direction. Families huddled together carrying what they could, bent shoulders, slow steps.
“Where are they going?” Sienna asked.
Mila glanced back at them. “I heard talk in the market of a refugee camp in that direction, a place where the sick are cared for, with enough food and even protection from slave traders.”
Jari gave a harsh laugh and shook her head. “This is the Borderlands. You think there’d be something like that here? I don’t know what’s out there but there’s no way it’s some paradise. Those people are marked by the shadow. They have no future.”
The warrior woman strode ahead, her words leaving the team in silence as they walked into the night.
At the edge of the desert, just before the land rose sharply into the escarpment, a ruined temple rose out of the valley floor.
