by Jen Williams
Behind her, Estenn laughed softly. She bent down and picked up one of the small oil lamps from the ground.
‘You are disappointing, Wydrin of Crosshaven. You turn away from the glory of the true gods, and grub around on the ground with their servants instead. Let me show you what you side with.’
With that, she threw the oil lamp into the centre of the blankets. Instantly the blankets and furs were thrown aside and Wydrin saw a great monster uncurl itself; nine great legs like that of an enormous spider burst out, almost filling the room. She cried out, trying to scramble back, but one of the arms flexed and suddenly she was being dragged through the dirt towards the body of the creature. She got a brief impression of a segmented body covered in interlocking plates of a shining white substance like mother-of-pearl, and more vulnerable-looking sections of black leathery skin, and then she was crushed next to it. Three legs covered in thick bristles curled around to hold her in place.
‘Wait! I am not your enemy!’
There was an odd flexing beneath her and she felt the bonds around her legs grow tighter. Peering down past the alien legs that encircled her chest she saw silver strands winding their way up her shins; two of the other legs were pulling them from something she couldn’t see, and using them to bind her legs and feet together. Quicker than she ever could have imagined, the web was up to her thighs, and getting higher all the time.
‘Estenn!’
The woman was bending to retrieve the oil lamp from where it had rolled on to the floor. She looked amused. Wydrin strained against the limbs holding her in place, only now smelling the alien stink of the creature that held her in its grip.
‘You can’t leave me here,’ she said, hating the desperation in her voice. ‘I know about the staff. You need to know what I know.’
By now the strands of web were covering her hands where they were pressed to her chest. The touch of the web was cool and slightly numbing. She tried to ignore the rising panic that was filling her throat.
‘Oh, you’ll be alive for a while yet,’ said Estenn, her tone terrifyingly casual. ‘This sort of thing takes ever such a long time.’
With that, the Emissary turned and left the chamber, heading up the rough dirt slope.
‘Wait!’
The limbs holding her in place shifted as the web grew higher and higher, but as much as Wydrin struggled to be free the thing was extremely strong, and the web covering her legs and now her arms might as well have been spun from steel. Soon, it would be up to her neck, and when it covered her face, whatever Estenn might think about her chances of survival, she doubted she would be able to breathe through it.
‘Please,’ she said, ‘please stop. I am not here to hurt you. I’m another prisoner, like you.’
The busy legs continued, holding her close and spinning the web. The low keening sound was back, she realised, and it thrummed through the creature behind her so that she could feel it in her own chest.
And then abruptly it was done. The legs curled back out of her vision, save for one which still held her securely to the creature’s body. The web had ended just below her neck; when she looked down she could see the contours of her own body outlined in pale silver, as though she were already a ghost.
‘There,’ said a voice from directly behind her. It was low and deep, with strange harmonies. Wydrin felt all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. ‘Now there will be no distractions.’
24
The beach was black and littered with bones.
Ephemeral picked her way over them carefully, fascinated by the pale yellow of the bone against the charcoal grey of the sand. Some of these bones had been here a very long time, and most of them had long jaws filled with sharp teeth. She did not know what they were, but she found it difficult to look away from them. Next to her, Terin’s face was grave. There was a cold wind blowing in from the east, and this had revived him somewhat. It was good to see his grey face clear of sweat again.
These last days had been the hardest part of their journey. When they knew beyond doubt which island Sebastian had gone to, it had taken them some time to find someone willing to sail to Euriale. Everyone had turned them away – most with suspicious looks and several with outright threats. It was, they quickly gathered, a notorious pirate haunt, and to journey there was akin to admitting that you wished to partake in some sort of criminal activity. Eventually, they had gone to the darkest, seediest part of town and located the tavern that smelled most overpoweringly of vomit, and only there had they found a man willing to take them. And when they had stipulated that they wanted to travel to the western coast of the island and not Two-Birds, they had needed to pay twice as much. Still, here they were.
Ephemeral turned to look back to the sea. The man was a tiny dot now, hastily shoving his small boat back out into the wider deep. He had not even wished to put his foot on the sand itself, declaring the place ‘cursed’. Ephemeral found this most curious.
‘Do you think he will be cursed now?’ she asked Terin. ‘Do you think we are cursed?’
Her husband looked at her and shrugged his narrow shoulders.
‘There are places in the Frozen Steps that are considered cursed.’ They made their way up the beach. Clouds gathered above, heavy with a promised storm. ‘Beyond the Wailing Hills, for example, is the site of an old Narhl township. A group of travellers came with trading goods – silks, exotic woods, wool, dried fruits – and they also brought with them a terrible disease. In a matter of weeks, everyone in that township was dead. A few bodies were found a mile or so from the town, as the sickening men and women fled to get help. None of them made it.’ Terin reached down to pluck an interesting shell from the sand, and placed it in a bag at his waist. ‘That place has been considered cursed for a hundred years or so. I have never been there, so I cannot know if to go there is to invite misery.’ He tipped his head to one side. ‘Perhaps cursed really means it’s a place where the memories are so terrible it is best to leave it alone for ever.’
Ephemeral nodded seriously. She wondered if the places that had been destroyed by her and her sisters were now considered cursed, or if the people would try to rebuild the homes they had lost.
They continued on in silence until they reached a rocky bluff of land. There they climbed and pulled themselves up until they stood under the cover of trees. Here, it was warm again, the air wet and close. Terin leaned against a trunk for a moment, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He had already stripped down to his trousers, the long leather belts across his shoulders and chest holding his supplies and his weapons. There were small scars all over his body – remnants of his communing with fire.
‘Are you sure?’ she said again. ‘It might be easier to go to the town first, to see what information we can gather.’
Terin shook his head. ‘Your father is not there. He moves towards the heart of this place now. I feel that very clearly.’ He smiled at her. ‘And I don’t believe the people of Two-Birds would much like to answer our questions. We are not pirates, after all.’
‘And my green skin and sharp teeth would invite pointed interest.’ She sighed. ‘The question is, what do we—’ She felt a sudden silver shiver in her blood. Ephemeral opened her eyes wide, turning in a slow circle. It was not her father she could feel, but some other sort of kin. Something that was like her sisters, but not quite.
‘What is it?’ asked Terin in a low voice. ‘Are we in danger?’
She didn’t answer. Instead she looked up. Above them was a break in the canopy, and as they watched three great flying animals passed overhead. They had leathery wings like bats, but their heads were long and lizard-like, tapering to a point at either end, and they had long narrow tails. They were only visible for moments, as they were flying so fast, but it was time enough for Ephemeral to feel their blood sing with hers. And once she had felt it, she could feel it all around. The island was alive with it: new life, new dragon-kin life. It was everywhere.
Terin’s cold hand settled on he
r shoulder. Abruptly she realised she was swaying slightly where she stood.
‘I am all right,’ she told him, as firmly as she could manage. ‘And I think I now have some idea of why my father came to this place.’
‘Here. We are here.’
Sebastian stood with Oster on the edge of a green stone wall, looking down into a deep pit. The other side was a good hundred feet away, and it was impossible to see how deep into the earth it went; the bottom was filled with shadows. The walls below them were carved with interlocking geometric shapes, interspersed here and there with other forms that looked roughly humanoid. Vines and creepers crawled all over the stone, and from where he stood Sebastian could see a few birds’ nests clinging to the cracks.
‘Where is here?’ asked Sebastian.
They had been walking for two days; Sebastian making his way as best he could over the rough terrain, Oster periodically shifting out of his human form and into his dragon form, a golden beast made of light and teeth. He would hunt in this shape, bringing back rabbits and other small mammals for Sebastian to cook over a fire.
It was taking some getting used to.
‘This is where he lived,’ said Oster. ‘The Spinner made his home here, when he did not need to watch over the Eye. And it has been many centuries since the Eye opened last.’
Sebastian peered over the edge. ‘He lives at the bottom of that?’
‘Yes,’ said Oster, apparently seeing no problem with this. ‘In the darker spaces, no doubt.’
‘Your friend, this Spinner – is he like you? I mean, does he have a human shape?’
As yet, Sebastian had no clear answers for what Oster actually was. The man had appeared to him as a ghost, as many ghosts, and then in the flesh. And when in the flesh, he could change at will into a dragon; a glorious creature of gold and cream scales and bright amber eyes. In this form he was apparently still Oster – still a being capable of thought and reason, yet he was curiously reluctant to answer any of Sebastian’s questions. His brow would furrow and an expression of barely checked anger would come over his face, and he would brush it off, or simply walk away. Some of the mystery seemed to be tied up in this Spinner, who, Oster insisted, should have been there to meet him. The fact that the Spinner was missing clearly made Oster deeply uneasy, but again he seemed unable or unwilling to say why.
Sebastian felt as though he were caught on a hook, being dragged along by mystery after mystery. More than once he had wondered if he were hallucinating; if the strange humours of the jungle had simply driven him mad. In a lot of ways that was the most comforting explanation. It was more comforting, at least, than the silver thread of connection that he felt between himself and this strange, angry man.
Oster had been silent for some time, so Sebastian looked over to him. Standing by the great shaft in the ground, they were out of the shelter of the trees, and in the brilliant light his skin was a deep, tawny brown. Despite the days they had spent together his chin was still clean-shaven, the curly mop of dark hair on his head unchanged. He looked up at Sebastian, his face unsmiling.
‘Not a human shape, no. I don’t believe so.’
‘Ah, good.’ Sebastian looked back down into the shadowy pit. ‘And you want to go down there, of course. I can’t see a path.’
‘There is one, you just have to be looking for it.’ Oster came to his side and pointed to the far side of the pit. ‘You see the carving there that looks somewhat like a face? If you follow the long nose down, you can just about see another shadow, cutting across it. That is a visible part of the path.’
Sebastian narrowed his eyes against the bright sun, following Oster’s finger. There it was – a suggestion of a horizontal shadow, and then below it and to the left, another. It was possible to follow a sequence of them, gradually sloping down and out of sight, spiralling around the pit.
They walked around the circumference together, picking their way over rubble and long grass the colour of dust. When they got to the place where the path met the top of the wall, Sebastian stopped.
‘That looks awfully shallow.’
The path down was little more than a rough series of narrow steps carved directly from the green stone. To the right there was the solid wall, to the left was a yawning drop. To walk down safely it was clear that he would have to lean heavily to the right, pressing his side against the stone at all times. For a moment he was glad he wasn’t wearing his heavy armour or his long sword, both of which could have unbalanced him.
Oster was nodding slowly. ‘The Spinner does not have much need for conventional paths. You are clearly afraid.’ There was a lack of surprise in his voice that was more insulting than a sneer would have been. ‘I shall go first.’
Sebastian pursed his lips, attempting to ignore the flare of anger in his chest. He reminded himself that as a child he had walked through the Demon’s Throat, alone and in the dark. In the frozen North he had floated down through the empty air into the cursed city of Temerayne. In the Blackwood, he had walked across an invisible bridge. At least he could see this path.
‘I am not afraid,’ he said. ‘But there is no need to throw ourselves down there. We will go slowly.’
Sebastian put his foot on the narrow green step. When the entire thing didn’t collapse in an explosion of rocks and mud, he stepped fully onto it, and then onto the next one. He kept his right hand pressed to the wall. Behind him he heard Oster step down. To his left, the great yawning nothingness stretched away; he fancied he could feel it pulling at him. Motes of dust danced there, golden in the sunshine. Slowly, one step after another, they made their way down. The walls rose above them like a jade sky, and the cacophony of the birds and monkeys and other animals became muffled, as though they were coming from a great distance away. Sebastian supposed they were.
‘Tell me,’ said Oster from behind him. ‘Why did you come here? Once Euriale was a place of great pilgrimage for men and women, but you do not have the heart of a priest.’
Unseen by Oster, Sebastian smiled bitterly. ‘Why am I here? That is a really good question.’
‘Where did you come here from?’
‘I came here from a place called Crosshaven. It’s a little like Two-Birds, only they like to pretend that some of their business is legitimate.’ He took a breath against the sourness in his chest. ‘My friend is from there, and we were working together. We came here as part of a job but I’m not sure I have the will for it these days. So much has gone wrong in the past.’ They were passing a part of the wall that had been carved with great looping shapes – he slid his hand along the curves they made, grateful for the extra hand hold. ‘Before that I was a knight, in a place very far from here, a place of mountains and lakes. I wasn’t very good at that either.’
‘Lakes and mountains, islands of ill repute,’ answered Oster gruffly. ‘The world is as it ever was.’
‘You know something of the world away from this place, then?’ Sebastian half turned, almost looking over his shoulder. ‘I have told you something of myself. Some people might see that as an invitation to—’
The solid stones under his feet fell away. He heard the dry rattle of pebbles, the pressure of half a shout forming in his own throat, and then he was ripped away from the wall, a terrible lurch in his stomach as everything solid vanished. He turned as he fell to see Oster still on the path, his eyes wide, and then he was lost in a confusion of green stone and shadow.
Spinning into the dark, Sebastian took a breath – whether to shout or to pray he couldn’t have said – when it was abruptly knocked from him. Something huge hit him from the side, grabbing hold of him with crystal claws and curling around him none too gently. He had a brief impression of golden scales, smooth under his fingers like glass, and a bright amber eye.
They fell together, turning and turning, before hitting the floor with a tremendous thump. Oster in his dragon form rolled and rolled, holding Sebastian away from the stony floor until they came to a stop. Then abruptly the dragon pushed him away, s
ending him sprawling on the stones. For a few moments Sebastian lay still, breathing heavily. When he was sure the ground wasn’t about to give away under him, he propped himself up on one elbow, and gingerly patted himself for injuries. There would be bruises, no doubt, but no more than that.
The dragon that was Oster was cautiously lifting its head, black tongue sliding over its teeth. The long tail swished back and forth, scattering dust and rubble.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Sebastian, and then belatedly, ‘And, uh, thank you.’
There was a swirl of golden light, and where the dragon had been there was Oster again, brushing himself down, although he needn’t have bothered. Not a single hair was out of place, and his armour wasn’t even scuffed. Not for the first time, Sebastian tugged at his beard, feeling very conscious of how unkempt he must look.
‘It was foolish of you to fall. A human such as yourself would not survive it.’ Oster gave Sebastian a caustic look before turning away.
‘Your wisdom is truly astounding,’ muttered Sebastian, wincing as he pulled himself to his feet. The bottom of the pit was full of shadows and not much else. Leading off from the great circular stone floor were eight arched doorways. One was bigger than the others, and filled with darkness, while the others looked like they had been blocked up somehow. Trying to ignore how his heart was still pounding from the fall, Sebastian walked over to the nearest one.
It was filled with spider’s webs. Not just a few haunting the corners, but a thick barrier of the stuff, great swathes of web as wide and as thick as bed sheets. It filled the doorway with grey shadows, and here and there he could see small shapes caught up in it; lots of birds, the occasional small monkey. Some of the shapes were also covered in the web, small mummified bodies hanging in the dark, but plenty appeared to have just got stuck there – presumably, unable to escape, they had starved to death. It was impossible to see beyond the web.
