by P. C. Cast
“Indeed,” He’d said.
“But why are they haunting the gorge?”
Death had shaken His massive head, His antlers casting eerie shadows behind Him. “They do not know—though they do all have intense feelings of guilt and of incompletion.” He’d shrugged and smiled His terrible smile. “It is fortuitous, is it not? Unfinished business caused them to haunt this place for centuries, making them susceptible to my call.”
“So, you did call them to you?”
“Of course, Storyteller! I sensed their presence the moment we entered the Umbria, and I began communing with them. They are difficult to communicate with, but the one thing they have made clear to me is that they could not rest until they completed something.”
“Something?”
He took a long drink of a huge wooden mug His Attendants kept filled with the rich red wine the Saleesh had stockpiled. “As I said, they are difficult to communicate with—even now that they live again.”
“I’ve noticed they don’t talk much,” Ralina said carefully. Death had already proven to be highly protective of his Milks.
“It is one of the things I appreciate most about them. I like to believe that they all lost their faith in the gods when their world was destroyed. Perhaps their unfinished business is the need to follow the will of a true God. And my will commands them to come with us to the Plains of the Wind Riders. There they will defeat all who attempt to stand against me.”
That was all Death would say about the Milks. Ralina suspected that was because He didn’t know any more about them and the God didn’t like to appear anything but omnipotent. But Ralina watched everything. She noticed everything.
The Milks had cliques. They congregated in the same groups and rarely mixed with outsiders. They were all men. Not one woman was reanimated—nor one child. And they had night terrors, so that their screams and cries of fear echoed across the river every single night as they continued to journey upriver.
Canines hated the Milks. That was the one happy outcome of the Milks’ presence. They were always hovering around Death, which meant that after trying unsuccessfully to coax Bear to join her on the God’s boat while He told her stories about the twisted, nightmarish utopia He imagined their future to be, Death announced that the canines were too skittish to be close to His new army—which relieved Ralina immensely, as she could then leave Bear with Renard, Daniel, and Kong whenever she had to attend to the God.
When they finally arrived at the last Saleesh village and the mouth of Lost Lake, Ralina already knew what was before them. She’d befriended Brother Joseph—though “befriend” was not an entirely accurate word, as the young Saleesh man had gone completely mad. He slept as much as Death would allow—all curled in on himself. He ate little and cried often. When he was in Death’s presence he couldn’t force himself to stand, so he knelt before the God, stuttering his answers between sobs and hysterical laughter.
As Brother Joseph was, indeed, an expert on the river and he guided them well, Death didn’t seem to mind, but Ralina felt terribly sorry for the young man—who wasn’t even as old as Renard. She’d asked Death to allow Brother Joseph to remain with her outside the villages while Death and His army consumed them, and the God had readily agreed, thanking Ralina for thinking of it and saying that it would be a waste of time if Brother Joseph was accidentally killed and He had to choose a new guide. So, as Ralina, Renard, Daniel, and Brother Joseph waited with the boats during the destruction of the final Saleesh village, the young Brother had explained what was to come on the Lost Lake crossing.
“There are devil creatures that dwell around the islands and the ruins of the dead cities—Mouths and Monkeys. They work together, so you must avoid those things,” Brother Joseph said.
And after he explained exactly what Mouths and Monkeys could do, Ralina completely agreed with him.
“But how long will it really take for us to cross Lost Lake?” Renard had asked him.
Along with stuttering when he was afraid, Brother Joseph had developed a tic that tended to become worse whenever he talked with Death, and now his head jerked spasmodically to the side, betraying how disturbed just the idea of the lake crossing made him.
“Months,” the Brother said, his neck and head twitching to the left. “Some—sometimes you will go days w-without s-s-seeing land. And th-th-the islands are not a respite. M-M-Mouths and Monkeys are there.”
“But you’ve never crossed the lake?” Renard asked.
“N-no. I-I-I’ve never b-been away from my r-r-river.” Brother Joseph worried the edge of the left sleeve of his robe, which was already frayed from his anxious fingers.
“Hey, try thinking about the lake as nothing more than an extension of your river, which is the truth. Lost Lake was made when Day Dam broke, so a good part of the water did come from the Umbria.”
“B-but our s-stories s-say the earth o-opened and w-water spewed forth. Th-the M-Mother saved us.” Brother Joseph’s gaze turned downcast and he chewed his lip. “B-but S-S-She must not l-love us now. S-She did not s-s-s-ave us from Death.”
Ralina opened her mouth to speak platitudes, but found she could not. Brother Joseph was right. The Mother hadn’t saved them. She hadn’t saved any of them.
The next day when the armada entered Lost Lake, the sky was clear and deceptively beautiful, as if it didn’t know that Death was spreading across the world below.
That night—the first night they spent on the lake—Brother Joseph tied one of the ancient cast-iron cauldrons Death had taken from the Saleesh to his ankles and then quietly slipped overboard and put an end to his misery. Ralina knew what he was doing. She’d watched him. Silently he’d filled the big pot with water before he took off his robe, folded it neatly, kissed it, and then met her gaze just before he and the water-filled iron pot dropped soundlessly overboard.
She’d started to sit up—to stop him—but he’d folded his hands as if praying to her and shook his head mouthing the words Please let me go. And she had. Ralina understood. It was not her right to take the peace from him that he sought to rediscover in the dark depths. She’d nodded and mouthed back, I will tell your story.
Then Brother Joseph had smiled. It was the first and only time Ralina had seen his expression free of fear, and she was struck anew by how young he was.
He was still smiling when the water closed over his upturned face.
Death hadn’t been in the least bit upset by Brother Joseph’s absence. Instead all the God had said was “Ah, the Brother found his happy ending. A good outcome for a task well done.”
They didn’t need the Brother for the lake crossing. He’d already told Death everything he knew about the lake and its dangers. Navigation was really rather simple—they were to keep heading southeast until they saw the Golden Man Ruins, then turn directly into the sunrise and row to the entrance of the Rock Mountains.
She had no idea what the Golden Man was, nor what ruins he topped, but neither had Brother Joseph. He’d only repeated what he’d heard the Lynx guides say. No one in their armada of death knew, and as one day merged into another, the Storyteller found it was best to focus on each moment rather than to speculate about the future—speculation led to hopelessness, and hopelessness led to the same watery grave Brother Joseph had chosen. Instead, she took one day at a time, focusing on her connection with her Companion and her growing appreciation for Renard and his father. They hadn’t been family before they’d left the Tribe, but now they were the only sanity each other had. The three humans and their two canines clung to one another, and every day after Ralina returned from spending hours with Death, listening to Him prattle on and on about His magnificent plan to subjugate the world and awaken His Consort—the Great Goddess of Life—Daniel prepared untainted food for her, Bear curled beside her, sharing his strength, and Renard held her, whispering that she had survived one more day … one more day.
Ralina grew to despise Lost Lake, and it wasn’t simply because it seemed never-ending. Nor
was it because of the horrid Mouths and Monkeys—who claimed four entire boats filled with Milks on their first encounter. Ralina hated Lost Lake because she felt the presence of the uncounted thousands of dead beneath them. At night, when the armada tied up together and the cries of the dreaming Milks drifted across the lake, Ralina swore that she heard answering shrieks coming from far, far under the water, chilling her soul.
The unending days blurred together, one after another, dread and the dead weaving a nightmare tapestry that became the fabric of Ralina’s inescapable life.
LOST LAKE—THE PACK
As the days stretched to weeks, and then the weeks to a new month, time seemed to Mari to begin to blur, weaving a dreamy tapestry that fashioned her new life.
She’d didn’t hate Lost Lake—and after spending several weeks on it the Pack had settled into a rhythm that was surprisingly pleasant. When they neared islands or ruins, the entire Pack went on alert. The Mouths and Monkeys were almost always present, and they never became less disgusting, but after a couple run-ins the Pack learned how to spot both quickly. It was morbid and horrible, but they also learned that the easiest way to get by them was to kill a Monkey in the water. That was usually distraction enough to allow them to slip past any Mouths lurking below.
But often they went several days without seeing anything but water, and during those days the Pack relaxed and found time to practice the things that made life worth living.
Early on, Nik and Mari had been concerned about exercising the canines. Almost two months of rarely seeing land—and even a longer time not touching it—wouldn’t keep the canines conditioned enough for the trek through the mountains ahead of them.
It’d been Mari’s idea to have the Shepherds and Terriers swim alongside the boats.
“But there are things under the water,” Sora said, shuddering in disgust as she glared down into the silent depths.
“Well, sure there are, but unless we can see ruins Antreas says there’s nothing that can hurt us,” Mari had countered.
“She’s right,” Antreas had said as he and Danita paddled around them in their little boat, Bast perched between them. “I’m going to agree about the need to exercise our Companions—and ourselves.”
“I’m getting plenty of exercise,” Sora said, showing off a flexed bicep. “My arms and back have never been so strong.”
“What about your legs?” Mari asked.
“They’re lovely. Thank you for asking,” Sora quipped.
“Lovely legs aside,” Antreas said, “staying conditioned will only help get us through the mountains faster. So, if any of you want to swim beside the boats, I say that is an excellent idea.”
“But whether they want to or not, our canines need the exercise,” Nik said.
“And our feline,” Danita said.
Bast hissed and laid her ears flat against her head as she stared down at the water.
Antreas chuckled at his Lynx. “Yeah, I know you don’t like it, but I’d hate to see the dogs show you up.”
Bast’s ears lifted, but her eyes narrowed at her Companion. She sighed, coughed, and began grooming herself.
“That’s a yes. If a canine goes in the water, so will she,” Danita said.
“I think I got that, too,” Sora said. She picked up Chloe, who was almost too big now to fit into her swaddle. “Do we really have to swim?”
The pup licked her nose and wagged her tail so hard her rear end wriggled.
“I think that’s another yes,” Danita said.
“Sadly, I think you’re right,” Nik said. He shared a glance with Laru, who laid his ears back and looked as unenthused at the prospect as his Companion.
“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun, especially on the really hot days,” Mari said.
“Moon Woman?” Dove’s sweet voice traveled across the water easily.
“Yes, Dove,” Mari answered.
“Lily and I do not know how to swim.”
“Would you like to learn?” Sora asked.
“We would!” Dove said enthusiastically. Beside her Lily nodded, though she looked a lot less excited.
“Okay, then, who’s our best swimmer?” Antreas asked.
As one, every Companion turned to look at Wilkes.
Wilkes sighed. “I can swim. Well.”
“Wilkes, would you teach Lily and me to swim?” Dove asked, turning her smiling face in the direction of his voice.
Wilkes sighed again. “Yes. I will teach you.”
So began a series of lessons that proved to be highly amusing. Mari was amazed at how brave Dove was. She could see nothing, but was utterly free in the water, swimming almost daily and always going to the end of her safety tether. Lily learned to swim, too, but it was obvious she enjoyed it about as much as Nik—who looked like he’d rather have battled a herd of Monkeys than submerge himself in the lake.
The Pack was careful. They kept ropes looped around the waists of the canines—as well as anyone swimming with them. Even Bast, looking utterly disgruntled, was coaxed to swim with Danita—who Mari thought might be half fish because of how gracefully the girl moved through the water.
Mari loved those long, hot days and the cool lake water. She decided not to dwell on the fact that beneath them a whole society had drowned. Instead she thought about the water washing away that which needed cleansing so that something new, something better, could take its place.
She wasn’t delusional. Mari didn’t believe that her little Pack would change the world, and it didn’t have to. All it had to do was change their world, and that it already had done.
As they drew closer and closer to the Rock Mountains, the Pack grew stronger. Companions and Earth Walkers no longer segregated themselves from each other. They shared boats and supplies as easily as they shared fishing tips. When taking breaks from paddling, the Earth Walkers taught the Companions how to weave—and the Companions talked openly about how they created their City in the Trees, about the intricacies of pulley systems, and about how to build nests in trees so that the home grew with the tree, rather than strangling and killing it.
Mari thought often what a pleasure it was to watch good friends being made—and lovers being wooed. Danita slept every night in Antreas’s arms—and somewhere about midway through their crossing her night terrors completely stopped.
Davis and Claudia were as inseparable as Cammy and the very obviously pregnant Mariah. Mari and Nik often chuckled about how little Cammyman seemed to grow more and more proud as the Shepherd’s belly grew more and more round. She tried not to worry about Mariah giving birth on the lake, especially as Claudia and Davis didn’t seem overly concerned, but every Third Night when she and Sora drew down the moon to Wash their Pack, Mari added a prayer to the Great Goddess asking for a healthy delivery for the sweet Shepherd, especially as the mountains, which had once seemed impossibly far away, began showing their snowy tips against the horizon.
Mariah went into labor the day the light of the rising sun suddenly reflected off something in the distance that sparkled and shone so much that it hurt Mari’s eyes to stare at it.
“What is that?” Danita asked.
“The Golden Man Ruins!” Antreas shouted, sounding pleased. “We made it!”
“What? Are we almost off this Goddess-forsaken lake?” Nik said.
“Yes, we are,” Antreas said. “We need to paddle for that golden statue. Once we pass it we take a sharp turn to the left and in one more day we meet dry land—for good.”
“Thank the Sun!” Nik cheered.
“Oh, blessed Goddess! That is so exciting!” Dove said from the boat she shared with Davis, Claudia, Rose, Lily, and a large selection of canines.
“It is exciting,” Antreas said. “But we need to circle up so I can let you know what we’re facing.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Pack! Circle up!”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Nik muttered.
“Why doesn’t he tell us about this bad stuff before we’re looking r
ight at it?” Mari said.
“Probably because we’d all fret and make it worse than it actually is,” said Sora as she and her boat, which held Sheena and her Captain, as well as O’Bryan, drew beside them.
“It’s gonna be fine,” O’Bryan said. “This is our last obstacle on the lake, and then we’ll be free of it forever. Good news, right, Nik?”
“Great news,” Nik said.
When they were circled around him, Antreas spoke quickly, explaining efficiently to the attentive Pack.
“This is the last ruin we face on Lost Lake. Tomorrow midday we reach land and the entrance to the Rock Mountain passage.” He had to pause as the Pack cheered and whooped before continuing. “The Golden Man Ruins are as deadly as they are strange, and they also mark where we need to change direction to make land quickly.”
“Well, we know they’re right up there.” Wilkes pointed at the winking spot of gold ahead of them. “Can’t we just veer to the left now and avoid them completely.”
“No. I stopped you here because of what happens as we draw closer to this part of the lake. The water changes for a wide area around these ruins. For some reason this particular sunken city created whirlpools and sections of deadly currents that can capsize boats much bigger than ours. Unless we want to add a week to our lake crossing, we must follow the path through the ruins rather than circumvent them and chance the water traps.”
“Okay, we follow you just as we’ve been doing,” Sora said. “We’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
“You have,” Antreas said—his expression grim. “You’ve also gotten good at getting safely past the Mouths and Monkeys. You’ll need all those skills here. These ruins are odd for many reasons—the strangest might be that they’re a major breeding ground for Mouths and Monkeys. We do not know why, but there are more of those creatures here than anywhere else on the lake.”
“What kind of ruins are they?” Davis asked.
“We have no true idea. It seems to be one enormous building and has the look of a temple. It was built in a huge rectangle. There are six pointed towers that protrude above the water, as well as what looks like a roof that adjoins them and a good part of the building itself. It’s from the highest of the towers that the Golden Man stands.”
