by Guy Adams
Passengers were doing everything they could to escape, those who could were taking to the sky (I tried to spot the bat-like form of Axionus but in all the panic there was no sign of him), others were toppling overboard and into the crimson sea.
"Why do you think he did it?" I asked the old man. "Branches of Regret, I mean..."
"Are you talking to me or your invisible friend?" the dancer asked.
"Invisible friend," I replied, "this is going to get confusing..."
"Who can tell with plant entities?" said the old man. "They're a strange bunch. More empathetic."
"I have no idea what empathetic means," I admitted. "It means capable of seeing, and sharing, the emotions of others," the dancer said, "though I'm sure you probably weren't talking to me."
"They feel things very strongly," the old man continued, "and their allegiances are hard to predict."
There was another almighty cracking sound and the Clearsight began to sink. Branches of Regret now towering over it, an awe-inspiring sight as he pushed the remains of the boat under the surface.
"Well, I like it when he's on my side, that's for sure."
"I'm glad you're happy," the old man said, "though I can't see why. You owe all your future experiences to a demonic entity and we're still no further forward than we were when we stepped onboard."
"Yes, there is that," I admitted. "Fine, it's all gone to shit."
"Are you going to be depressing as well as confusing?" the dancer asked. "Because I'm grateful to have got out of there with my beautiful skin attached but, bearing in mind I wouldn't even have been in the situation if it weren't for you, I'm not sure how patient I'm going to be if you're miserable company."
"Sorry," I said. "It's been a rough couple of hours."
"Meridiana," she said.
"I'm sorry?"
"My name, seeing as you haven't asked yet, is Meridiana."
"Oh, right. Elwyn, sorry."
"Your invisible friend have a name?" "Sore point. Apparently he pissed someone important off so he's not allowed one any more. Just like he's not allowed to be seen or heard by anyone except mortals."
"I think I've found myself in a mess."
"You have a bit. So... Axionus, that's the baby with the wings, he called you a succubus."
"He did. You know what one of those is?"
The old man sighed but said nothing, just continued to row.
"No," I admitted, "I'm not really up on all this... Hell stuff."
"Well, I kill people by fucking them. That going to be a problem?"
I didn't quite know what to say to that. "I suppose that depends on whether you plan on...
well... you know..."
"You never know, I'm not particularly hungry right now though. I ate before we came."
"That would have been the bald-headed fellow?"
"A onetime dairy farmer from Ohio. He won't keep me satisfied for long though, the dead never do, they don't have enough life-essence to them, unsurprisingly."
"Right, so..."
"I feed on the life-essence of others through sex. It's how I stay alive. Being stuck here means I get hungry a lot."
"So you might try and kill me in a minute?"
"I might. I'll try to avoid it though if that makes you feel any better."
I sighed and looked at the old man. "We're in a mess aren't we?"
He nodded. "Though you might want to mention you're immortal until Agrat chooses to cash in her debt. She couldn't kill you if she tried."
"Yes!" I turned back to Meridiana. "You can't kill me, I'm immortal." She smiled. "Really?"
"Really. It's kind of complicated but I lost the ability to die in a card game. A woman called Agrat bet against me and cheated. One day she's going to turn up and take all my life experiences as payment. She's made it clear she doesn't intend to do that for some considerable time."
"You're not good at cards then?"
"She cheated."
"They all say that."
"She really did, my... invisible friend saw her cards and they weren't the same as she played when she won."
"So you were cheating first?"
I hadn't really thought about that. "I guess we were."
She nodded. "I sure know how to find good company."
"Says the woman who kills men by screwing them."
"A girl has to eat."
A large wave, the final result of the sunken Clearsight, pushed against the side of the boat and we rose up in the air before coming back down with a jolt. The dog-faced man groaned in his sleep.
"And who's your friend?" Meridiana asked.
"I don't really know. He's not a friend though. I accidentally insulted him and then we beat him up."
"You do know that if we weren't afloat on the Bristle lake I would be running away now, yes?" "Sorry. It all made sense at the time, you know how things can be..."
Above us the sky blossomed with light and another figure appeared, dropping through the red clouds into the lake.
"That's really disgusting," I said, leaning over the side of the boat to look at the lake surface.
"Don't!" both Meridiana and the old man shouted, almost as one. It was good advice but by the time it registered something had already burst from the lake and grabbed a hold of my hair. My face was showered in thick blood as this thing tugged at me.
"Get it off! Get it off!" I shouted, pushing against the side of the boat and throwing my self on my back.
My attacker came with me, the upper half of a man, his body just a dripping absence from the waist down.
Meridiana swung her oar at the back of its head and I grimaced as my face was splashed with even more sticky liquid.
The old man slipped the blade of his oar between me and my now immobile attacker then flipped it back over the side.
"The lake gets lonely," said Meridiana. "Misery loves company."
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"Please don't. It's unpleasant enough in here as it is."
Slowly, we made our way to the shore, finally dragging the boat up onto the hair-covered rocks that encircled the lake. It seemed too unlikely a coincidence that our dog-like passenger just happened to regain his senses once the hard work was done but nobody saw fit to mention it. After all, it's hard to complain about a man's work-ethic after you've smacked him over the head with an oar.
"Which one of you cowards hit me?" he asked.
"It was Elwyn's invisible friend," said Meridiana, "so mind yourself or he'll probably do it again."
"How about I just apologise for what I said before?" I offered. "Then maybe we can try and start over?"
I held out my hand to shake his.
He looked at me with a distinctly canine sneer. "I don't know that I'm willing to just roll over..." (which was an opportunity to get the fight started again right there but I was diplomatic enough not to take it). "I seem to remember you made a pretty foul insult about my face."
"I was stupid," I said. "To be honest with you I was trying to look meaner than I really am, you know? I guess I was showing off a little."
"At my expense."
"Well, yes. But I'm apologising now."
"And that makes it all alright does it?"
"I'll just hit him again with the oar," said the old man, reaching for it.
"No, don't do that," I said, holding up my hand. "Let's solve this like grown men. I insulted him, he has a right to be pissed off."
"Grown men?" he asked.
"That's right." So he punched me hard in my face and I fell down into the thick, hairy undergrowth with a rather pathetic cry.
"We're settled," he said. "The name's Biter," he held his hand out to Meridiana. "One of the lower animal entities. Grew up on the south side of Mount Scriven. Don't know if you know the area?"
"I've ridden through it," she admitted, shaking his hand with a slight grimace.
"Yeah, rough part of the world, don't blame you. That's why I got out, trying to make a little something be
tter for myself, you know? I couldn't stand the idea of an existence of cheap summonings or badly paid fright work. A lot of the clans like to hire animal entities as enforcers but all that barking and tearing people's heads off. It's debasing."
"I'm sure it is." She pulled her hand away. "I'm Meridiana, succubus."
"Oh," he backed away a little, "right... you're not going to..."
"I'm not into bestiality."
He sighed and looked at me, acting for all the world as if we were now best friends. "See what I mean? This is the kind of intolerance people like me have to put up with. Is it any wonder I have a short temper?"
He suddenly stopped talking and his head snapped to the left, nostrils flaring. "Company coming," he said. "Small convoy, heading this way." He pointed a little way up the shore to where I spotted a narrow road cutting its way through the hairy terrain.
"Let's take some cover," said the old man. "At least until we know who we're dealing with."
"Good plan," I said, getting to my feet, "I'd happily avoid any more trouble for a little while." The two of us moved towards a small patch of rocks, to the side of the road. After a moment I looked over my shoulder at Meridiana and Biter. "You not coming?"
"He really does talk to himself?" Biter said.
"Invisible friend," said Meridiana, making her way after us, hoisting up the frills of her dress, "told you."
"Can't smell a thing," said Biter as he too began to follow, "and I can normally pick up even the invisible entities. You know, the spirits, soul hounds and such. This nose has had a life time of training, it knows its business."
"I guess nobody here can smell you either," I said to the old man as we settled behind the rocks, keeping our eyes on the road. He didn't bother to reply.
After a few moments we heard the sound of hooves pounding against the sharp, black rock of the trail. Shortly after, emerging from behind an outcrop to our right, three coaches appeared. They rocked on the unsteady ground, the horses that pulled them foaming at the mouth as they galloped along the trail. The coaches were small and ornately decorated, glistening paint work that seemed to move, like living tattoos. Representations of flames, bizarre creatures, spider-webs and plant-life, all flowing over the coaches' surface. A face appeared at the window of the central coach, it was Agrat.
"How...?" I began to say but the old man clamped his hand over my mouth. For a moment I saw her looking out over the shoreline then her head retreated back inside the coach and they passed us by.
Once they were nothing but a faint dot in the distance, the old man removed his hand.
"Sound travels here," he said, "especially to the powerful." "Powerful indeed," I said, "considering she managed to get herself off the Clearsight and into a coach without our seeing her."
"She has her ways," he said. "We need to get after her but I don't recognise the coaches."
"I'll ask," I suggested, turning to Meridiana and Biter. "Any idea who that was?"
"What, Agrat?" said Biter. "You were playing cards with her not half an hour ago."
"Not her, the coaches. You know where she might be going?"
"They belong to Greaser," said Meridiana. "He runs one of the new clans further up the coast. Nasty. I mean... everyone's nasty, but he's a real piece of work."
"Great. We need to follow her."
"You and your invisible friend may need to," said Meridiana. "I sure don't."
"I'm in," said Biter. "She cleaned me out at the table. If there's a chance at getting my own back I'm all for it."
"Who said I wanted company?" asked the old man. "I'm not here to make friends, damn it."
"We'll need all the help we can get," I told him. "Who knows how useful they might be?"
"A hooker and a dog, yes. Helpful." He sighed and began to walk towards the road.
"Please come," I said to Meridiana. "Just for a while anyway, it wouldn't be right just to leave you here would it?"
"Are you mistaking me for a faint-hearted damsel in distress again?" she said. "I've worked the Bristle for years, there's nothing here to scare me."
"Fine, do as you like." I wasn't going to argue over it. Though I'll admit, I'd still taken a shine to her, even though she was considerably more terrifying than I'd realised when I'd first set eyes on her. Biter and I set off after the old man, after a few moments Meridiana followed.
"Don't get the wrong idea," she said. "I just happen to be going this way anyway, there's a small camp a little way up the road, from there I'll make my own way."
She walked a little ahead, as if trying to prove her point. Though it may just have been that she was trying to keep her distance from Biter who had turned out to be a talkative son of a bitch.
"Thought I'd make my fortune on the boat," he said, "get some capital together. It's hard to bluff someone with senses like mine. I can sniff out bullshit. Both literate and figurish. Didn't quit work out the way I hoped. Just never seemed to get the right damn cards."
"She cheated," I told him. "That might have been a part of it."
"God damn it," he snapped. "I should have known she weren't to be trusted. Any no-tail that smiles at me like that has something to gain. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I mind when a woman gives me the eye but I ain't stupid enough to expect it. The girls don't like the hair. Not most of 'em anyway. Or maybe it's the teeth." He grinned at me, showing off the intimidating row of incisors. "Who wants to slip their tongue between those, huh? They think I might get hungry and bite it off. Not that I ever would. Well, not usually. There was that time in Madame Hooler's but I'd been drinking something fierce and I wasn't in my right mind."
"What did you want the capital for?" I asked, anything to get off the subject of his eating women's tongues.
"Well, I figure if I want to make someone of myself I need a clan of my own, you know?
Maybe set something up round here, like Greaser, the Bristle seems to be where all the new business is happening."
"What sort of business?" "The usual stuff, intimidation, torture, a bit of real world trading, though that's tailed off these days. The mortals don't seem as quick to invoke a demon these days. Maybe The Fastening will help this time."
"The Fastening?"
"You don't know much, do you?" he laughed. "The Fastening must be how you got here, no? It's the only time we fix onto the mortal world. Gives us a chance to top up, do a little business, maybe remind a few of you temporaries what's on the other side."
"I never thought about it from this side of things," I admitted. "I guess I just thought it was... I don't know... a miracle?"
"A miracle?" he laughed again. "What does the word even mean? Something you can't explain? You're walking through miracles, son. Nah... We need you lot as much as you need us.
The worlds this side need belief, experience, that precious transience you lot have. Don't ask me why He made it that way, you ask anyone in the know and they just give you that guff about 'moving in mysterious ways'. You'd think we had all the power, I mean... what are you but little pink butterflies, flapping about doing fuck all for seventy years and change? But no. We remain beholden to you. It's your belief in us that keeps everything solid, your fear that sharpens our teeth. Major miscalculation on His part if you ask me."
"I suppose you would say that, though, wouldn't you?" I replied. "Living here. This isn't His place is it?"
"They're all His places, pinkie. He's the boss of everything. You mortals, the Host, every level of demonic entity, we're all His in the end. They say He always has a plan, not sure I believe it though. Anything about life ever strike you as planned? If you ask me it's a case of too much power and not enough idea what to do with it. We'd be better off without Him." "Stop talking about Him," shouted the old man. "I've told you before, you're asking to be heard."
I nodded towards the old man. "He's just told me we should change the subject, he seems to think we're asking for trouble if we keep mentioning you-know-who."
"You really got an invisible
friend or are you just insane? I don't mind either way, I've spent time with some real crazies. They’re fine as long as you know how they tick. I rode with this guy once, sweet as pie, but if you ever mentioned fruit he'd lose his shit and start killing folks left right and centre."
"Fruit?"
"Fruit. Fucking hated the stuff. Sent him off the deep end, every time."
"I'm not mad."
"He used to say that too, then someone would mention a banana and “Whoa... limbs everywhere."
"I'm really not though."
"So how comes I can't see or smell him?"
I explained the best I could, repeating what I had told Meridiana earlier.
In the end Biter shrugged. "Best way to hide being mad I ever heard, but I'll go along with it as long as you don't try and kill me."
Interlude Six
AND HIS NAME WAS HOLY GHOST
1.
HOPE LANE HAD wanted little more from her life than change. From the day she had left her home town, a place that kicked her in the ass every day of her life, she had had no greater ambition than to live a life that was not the one she had originally been dealt. In the first instance, that had seen her change one prison for another, falling into the service of Obeisance Hicks, travelling preacher and crook. He had relied on her utterly, reducing her to a slave—not, she felt, be cause of the colour of her skin, Hicks hadn't much cared about that, rather because he could. If she had been white he would have treated her no better. Her life on the road with Hicks had been difficult, putting up with his drunken rages, his occasional advances and the fact that she could end up hanging at the end of a rope. If the gullible audiences he preached to recognised her as part of a con to relieve them of their money she had no doubt they would have strung her up with pleasure. People didn't like to be fooled, most especially not in the name of God. For all that, she would not have traded her new life for her old one. The reason why was simple: Soldier Joe.
