by AB Bradley
“You have had a stillborn son on Harvest Festival,” Olessa continued. “Any child born without breath tonight night is cursed by the gods. His soul is trapped within his body, and there it will fester while dark spirits from the Second Sun gather. They will seek those who witnessed the birth. They will bring plague, rot and horror. This place of pleasure will become one of pain and death.”
“No, you’re wrong,” Mara said. She clutched the child firm against her breast. “My son would never do such a thing.”
“Stupid girl. Your child is the bait for a demon feast like oysters amongst a swarm of coral sharks. With his birth, it has begun. It will not end until we are dead or you complete the ashwalk. If you do not do this, the first victim they take will be the infant’s soul. Yours will be next. And damn my fate, damn my brother, and damn my years of coin spent on your upbringing, because those demons will come for me next.”
“I won’t let them have his soul. I’ll rip every demon apart who tries to take it.”
“Calm down.” Madame Olessa snorted. “You are not all that you think you are. The demons of our Sun were the ancient races of the Second. No moon maiden could stand against those horrifying things.”
Olessa’s shoulder slumped. She reached for Mara. Mara flinched out of habit.
Her madame’s hand held nothing but a soft caress. Olessa pulled Mara’s chin to her, her eyes hard with the determination within them. “You can save his soul, Mara. You can save yours and ours too. You must make the ashwalk. Cloaked in burlap and ash, you must journey to the Burning Mother’s temple. There, in witness of the High Priestess, you must set the child before the Mother’s Ever-Burning Flame. Only within the Mother’s arms will you save him. Only then will you save us.”
Mara shuddered. The well of her emotions bubbled up her aching throat. They spilled out, carried on her heavy sobs. She’d cried more in those past few hours than every day before combined. She kissed her son’s soft brow and nodded, her tired eyes drifting closed. “Then take me there, and I will do the right thing.”
“Take you? We cannot take you.”
Mara’s eyes shot open. Visions of young children with hollow eyes and long knives lining the shore peppered her thoughts. Behind them, a writhing monster of a city waited, full of dark people and dark tidings. She would be there, lost deep in its heart with nothing but burlap as her armor and ash as her shield.
“But you must take me! I’ve never been to the city. I—I don’t know Lower Sollan or High Sollan or Hightable! I would be lost. I—I would be alone. I’ve never been alone. Never.”
“Mara, I cannot take you. Gia cannot take you. No one can take you but yourself. The ashwalk is a journey for one and one alone. That is the price of holy pilgrimage. That is the lonely cost of saving souls.”
“Please, Madame Olessa!” Mara reached for her madame, but the woman recoiled.
Olessa straightened, smoothing her silk dress and standing stiff as the titan skeleton rising from the sea. “Enough. I’m giving a worthless whore like you the chance to save your child’s soul, so for once, do something in return for your gentle master. You will leave this place at once. Tolstes will take you to the docks on a skiff, far away from any of my patrons or maidens.
“Under cover of night, you will go to the docks and make your way through Sollan to the temples in the shadows of the king’s palace. There, you will complete your ashwalk by giving the child to the Burning Mother. If you don’t, I’ll send the child to the bottom of the sea for coral sharks and sell you and your black womb to the highest bidder. Do not test my patience with this. Do not second guess my kindness in the matter.”
Mara’s arms shook. She clutched her son like a frightened toddler might clutch a soft pillow. “I’m afraid. I do not know the city. What if I fail? What if I’m not strong enough?”
“Then you will die there, your child’s soul will never reach the Six, and if the stories are true, I will spend the rest of my very short days fearing demons leaping from my chamber pot.”
Mara stared blankly at Olessa, the only mother she had ever known and loved despite her many cruelties and hard lessons. Mara’s gaze drifted to Gia, the one and only friend she ever had in the tiny kingdom called the House of Sin and Silk.
Her friend still tightly clasped her hands and buried them in her lap. She stared at Mara with eyes that glittered with her tears.
“It is your choice, Mara,” Gia said. “I know you’re afraid of the city, but I know you would want to give your son the respect he deserves—the respect the Six demand. Remember what I told you. The world beyond the barge is big and full of wonders. There is plenty darkness, but there is also light. Put your faith in the Six, and they will guide you. You may find you have yet to discover the real strength within you.”
“Do you—do you think I can do this?”
Gia smiled and leaned forward. “I do. You are stronger than you know. Maybe this ashwalk will teach you that.”
Tolstes burst out of the doorway carrying a messy bundle of burlap stained by soot and ash from one of the ship’s brass braziers. He threw the fabric before Mara and stepped back. “There is a makeshift robe for you and a strip of burlap swaddling for the child. The ash will protect you both from the demons searching for your son, and in the city, no thief will bother an ashwalk pilgrim for fear of catching the curse. You should be, ah, safe. I think.”
Mara reached for the smaller strip of burlap. Her fingers clasped the fabric. Slowly, carefully, she wrapped her son in the material until it cocooned him in its ashen folds. She took her burlap cloak and placed it over her shoulders, fastening the rough threads with frayed twine around her collar. Its fibers fell down her back. Soot stained her arms and added to the filth on her dress.
Tolstes had fashioned a rough hood from the cloak. She pulled the hood over her head, and the scent of burnt wood clogged her nose.
Mara struggled to her knees. She looked to the strong boy for a hand, but his eyes told her he would never extend it. Her gaze passed quickly over Olessa, who stood farther back than her bodyguard with arms locked over her sagging chest. Lastly Mara looked to Gia. Even sweet, strong Gia, so unafraid of anything, slowly drew her hands behind her back and looked to her feet.
“We are alone then,” Mara whispered, kissing her son’s brow.
She took a deep breath, and after some struggle, came fully to her feet. Her knees wobbled under her weight and the utter exhaustion thinning her resolve and tamping her will. Blood drained from her head, and the deck spun. She placed a hand upon the barge’s wall and waited for the world to still.
Once it did, she pushed away. Olessa nodded. The woman turned to Tolstes. “Take us to the skiff at once. Make sure not a single patron, maiden, or strong boy sees us.”
Tolstes spun on his heel, and they headed for the small rowboat moored beside the barge. Mara trailed after, taking the first steps of her ashwalk pilgrimage.
CHAPTER SIX
A Skiff and Silent Son
The small skiff bobbed like an arrow pointed toward the shore. Tolstes secured the ropes tying the boat to the House of Sin and Silk. The eunuch leapt into the vessel surprisingly lightly, his feet accustomed to balancing on a wavering surface.
Mara blinked. It took longer than usual to open her eyes again. Her knees knocked. Her body ached. She shook her head and forced her eyes wide. Holding her son close to her chest, she stepped from the deck and tumbled into the skiff.
The boat rocked violently. Her knee buckled and hit a rough wooden seat. She winced as a flash of pain coursed through her leg. Mara grabbed the skiff’s lip and bit her own, swallowing the burning slosh of bile lurching into her throat.
She turned to the House of Sin and Silk, the safe haven she’d known all her life, the one place she knew that would soon fade away beneath the stars of Harvest Festival.
Olessa grabbed the thick rope mooring the boat to the barge and tossed it to Mara’s feet. “Goodbye, Mara, and good luck. You will have until sunrise
to bring him to the fire. A moment after, and it will be too late for him. Remember that. Do not let the sun rise before you finish the ashwalk.”
Mara’s free hand went to the heavy jewelry clasped around her neck, her fingertips gracing the brass-plated collar staining her skin sickly green. “I’m afraid, Madame Olessa.”
“We all are, but I’ll be less afraid when I can no longer see this skiff darkening the Floatwaif.” Olessa placed her heel upon the rowboat’s stern. “May the Six guide your steps to safety. Fail, and the alp will devour his soul. Then, their eyes turn to us.”
“Wait!” Gia grabbed Olessa’s arm.
Their madame’s lips pursed into a single venomous point. “Explain yourself. The girl needs to go.”
Gia realized what she’d done. She released Olessa, recoiling like she’d accidentally thrust her hand into a baker’s oven. Gia quickly fell to a knee. The oily braids cascading down her back glimmered in the starlight. “She’s exhausted. She’s just given birth, and now we send her on this…on this journey. She will never make it in her current state.”
Mara’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Gia had seen the insanity of the ashwalk. Perhaps her friend would demand Olessa give her leave to accompany Mara with two armed strong boys.
Olessa cleared her throat, her wrinkled lips melting into a disapproving frown. “And what do you suggest we do? She will not stay. I will not have her tainted womb and cursed child on my most profitable night.”
Gia’s gaze drifted to the deck where it paused for a long moment. Then, it darted up to meet Olessa’s. “Give her something that will at least give her a chance. Give her a dose of glimmer. It will dull the pain and sharpen the senses if it’s only just a little. She’ll run through Sollan in no time with that coursing through her blood.”
The visions of Mara walking through the streets with Gia by her side and two strong boys cracking knuckles hard as granite vanished. Instead, Kard’s wild eyes appeared, hungry for violence and crazed for flesh.
Would that be me? Mara wondered.
“Glimmer?” Olessa laughed and turned away. “Mara’s never taken glimmer. It would make her wild and loosen her tongue. I can’t have her flapping that pink slug all over Sollan that Olessa gives her maidens glimmer. I’d have the the king’s soldiers or worse swarming like hornets by morning.”
“Just a small dose, please,” Gia begged. “I know you bow to the Six. I know you want Mara to finish her ashwalk and return home to set things right. Without the glimmer, she will collapse on the shore, and then it won’t be the soldiers swarming, it will be the spirits of the alp circling the House of Sin and Silk. Do you wish that on any of us?”
Mara knew not much of the histories of Urum, but she had learned enough to know the alp were the lords under the Second Sun after the titans fell beneath the First. The alp were a race of power and beauty, able to weave great works of magic and perform feats that rivaled even the titans. They rode the skies on glittering dragons and tamed all the wild beasts.
But under the Second Sun, they grew arrogant and turned from the Six. They sought to raise Urum’s fallen monsters and harness their power like a rider breaks a wild horse. It was said even the Six feared them, and so the Six utterly destroyed them.
No one knew much of their fall. From their ruins dotting Urum’s lands nothing had been discovered, and so they became the stuff of myth and legend, tales told to keep children behaved.
Olessa crossed her arms and thought. “Gia, Gia, always so brave when bravery would make you look like a saint, yet here you are standing before me and not on that skiff with your friend.”
The woman wheeled around and backhanded Gia with her bare hand. “Do not presume to tell me what I believe and what I must do. Be careful to remember your place in the world.”
Mara winced as Gia winced. The girl turned to the side, meeting Mara’s eyes. I tried, they said.
Madame Olessa reached into her dress pocket with a sigh. She produced a corked vial filled with glittering gold. Uncorking the container, she dipped her pinky in the powder and shoved her powdery nail toward Mara. “Put this under your tongue. Try to remember your wits when the glimmer takes hold. If you tell anyone you took this and they find their way to my house, I will deny I ever knew a moon maiden named Mara. Understood?”
Slowly, Mara nodded. She opened her mouth and leaned toward Olessa. The woman dropped the powder beneath Mara’s raised tongue.
The glimmer tingled against the soft flesh beneath her tongue. It sent dazzling sparks racing down her spine. Colors gained crisp clarity. Her aches and pains ebbed.
Mara straightened. Olessa kicked the skiff with her heel, and the boat slipped away from the House of Sin and Silk.
“The glimmer won’t last all night,” Olessa said. “Best hurry, or you’ll collapse somewhere in an alley and be the plaything of every drunk and scoundrel in the city.”
Mara nodded politely, even as Olessa’s warnings fed another log to the fire of her fear. She turned to her friend and waved. “Goodbye, Gia!”
“You will do this, I know you will!”
“Goodbye, Madame Olessa!”
Her madame turned and strolled casually toward the front of the barge as if nothing had occurred. The woman paused at the bend. She lingered there as if she wished to speak, to call reassuring words to Mara as the distance grew between them.
Olessa stiffened. She darted around the deck and disappeared. Mara sighed and turned away, her eyes set toward the long, crowded docks of Sollan.
The small skiff bobbed like an arrow pointed toward the shore. Tolstes secured the ropes tying the boat to the House of Sin and Silk. The eunuch leapt into the vessel surprisingly lightly, his feet accustomed to balancing on a wavering surface.
Mara blinked. It took longer than usual to open her eyes again. Her knees knocked. Her body ached. She shook her head and forced her eyes wide. Holding her son close to her chest, she stepped from the deck and tumbled into the skiff.
The boat rocked violently. Her knee buckled and hit a rough wooden seat. She winced as a flash of pain coursed through her leg. Mara grabbed the skiff’s lip and bit her own, swallowing the burning slosh of bile lurching into her throat.
She turned to the House of Sin and Silk, the safe haven she’d known all her life, the one place she knew that would soon fade away beneath the stars of Harvest Festival.
Olessa grabbed the thick rope mooring the boat to the barge and tossed it to Mara’s feet. “Goodbye, Mara, and good luck. You will have until sunrise to bring him to the fire. A moment after, and it will be too late for him. Remember that. Do not let the sun rise before you finish the ashwalk.”
Mara’s free hand went to the heavy jewelry clasped around her neck, her fingertips gracing the brass-plated collar staining her skin sickly green. “I’m afraid, Madame Olessa.”
“We all are, but I’ll be less afraid when I can no longer see this skiff darkening the Floatwaif.” Olessa placed her heel upon the rowboat’s stern. “May the Six guide your steps to safety. Fail, and the alp will devour his soul. Then, their eyes turn to us.”
“Wait!” Gia grabbed Olessa’s arm.
Their madame’s lips pursed into a single venomous point. “Explain yourself. The girl needs to go.”
Gia realized what she’d done. She released Olessa, recoiling like she’d accidentally thrust her hand into a baker’s oven. Gia quickly fell to a knee, her oily braids cascading down her back glimmering in the starlight. “She’s exhausted. She’s just given birth, and now we send her on this…on this journey. She will never make it in her current state.”
Mara’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Gia had seen the insanity of the ashwalk. Perhaps her friend would demand Olessa give her leave to accompany Mara with two armed strong boys.
Olessa cleared her throat, her wrinkled lips melting into a disapproving frown. “And what do you suggest we do? She will not stay. I will not have her tainted womb and cursed child on my most profitable night.”
Gia’s gaze drifted to the deck where it paused for a long moment. Then, it darted up to meet Olessa’s. “Give her something that will at least give her a chance. Give her a dose of glimmer. It will dull the pain and sharpen the senses if it’s only just a little. She’ll run through Sollan in no time with that coursing through her blood.”
The visions of Mara walking through the streets with Gia by her side, and two strong boys cracking knuckles hard as granite vanished. Instead, Kard’s wild eyes appeared, hungry for violence and crazed for flesh.
Would that be me? Mara wondered.
“Glimmer?” Olessa laughed and turned away. “Mara’s never taken glimmer. It would make her wild and loosen her tongue. I can’t have her flapping that pink slug all over Sollan that Olessa gives her maidens glimmer. I’d have the the king’s soldiers or worse swarming like hornets by morning.”
“Just a small dose, please,” Gia begged. “I know you bow to the Six. I know you want Mara to finish her ashwalk and return home to set things right. Without the glimmer, she will collapse on the shore, and then it won’t be the soldiers swarming, it will be the spirits of the alp circling the House of Sin and Silk. Do you wish that on any of us?”
Mara knew not much of the histories of Urum, but she had learned enough to know the alp were the lords under the Second Sun after the titans fell beneath the First. The alp were a race of power and beauty, able to weave great works of magic and perform feats that rivaled even the titans. They rode the skies on glittering dragons and tamed all the wild beasts.
But under the Second Sun, they grew arrogant and turned from the Six. They sought to raise Urum’s fallen monsters and harness their power like a rider breaks a wild horse. It was said even the Six feared them, and so the Six utterly destroyed them.
No one knew much of their fall. From their ruins dotting Urum’s lands, nothing had been discovered, and so they became the stuff of myth and legend, tales told to make children behave.
