by Scott Hale
“Pain was taken from me. It’s only fair that I take something from the person who took her to balance the scales. The whore should appreciate the irony, but I doubt she will.”
All Isla could do was nod.
“Onibi searched the lakes for me and soon—”
The icy blue and white waters began to churn and foam.
“—we will find her.”
Entranced by the bubbling waters, Isla took a step back. The sight of them was dizzying. She said, “Why lakes?”
“Our mother tried to kill Pain and I by drowning us in a lake. It didn’t work. And now lakes are the way by which we leave this Void into your world. That’s just the way things work for things like us.”
Gone were the colors; from blue and white, to a mossy green.
“Come with me, Isla, and do this last deed.”
The craterous lake calmed. The waters settled. The color remained. On the surface of the lake, there was a reflection. A twelve-moon sky above pale dunes.
Joy took Isla’s hand and squeezed until it hurt. “‘I will show you fear in a handful of dust.’ And we will fill our lungs with it. And fear is what we’ll breathe.”
Joy pulled Isla into her arms and walked off the hill. Together, Isla screaming, they plummeted towards the waters.
“If you’re having doubts about how far you’ve gone, always take solace in knowing you can go farther.” She kissed Isla’s sweating head, then clamped her hand over her mouth. “Now, shut up, and see. The bird’s asleep in her cage. We don’t want her to wake. Not yet.”
CHAPTER XXVII
It wasn’t until Felix made it into the cold, stony embrace of Cenotaph that he realized he smelled like burnt flesh. With Gemma rescued, he’d followed her and Warren back to the cathedral in silence, but all the while, Cathedra had been anything but silent. In that time, Sloane’s Compellers had fed to the pyre several more Night Terrors, and it was the Cathedrans, not the flames, who really ate them up. They cheered and cursed and clamored for more; and in between burnings, they raised their hands and lowered their heads and gave thanks to god on high. It was like a sacrificial offering in reverse, as if god were doing this for them, to make them happy; as if god owed them anything at all.
You don’t deserve anything, Felix thought as the cathedral’s guards closed the front doors behind him. None of you do.
Warren eclipsed Felix and said to him, “Come with us.”
Felix side-eyed Gemma, who was doing the same.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I have a thing for down-and-out orphans.”
Gemma let out a sharp laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
Felix thought, I’m not an orphan, but he didn’t say it, because he knew it was true.
“We need to get on the same page.” Warren stepped closer, his barreled chest about to pop the buttons off his shirt. “Your Holiness.”
Sensing he didn’t have any say in the matter, Felix took off with Gemma and Warren through Cenotaph. Commander Millicent caught sight of him from the second floor and waved him down. He’d called for a meeting between him, her, the Marrow Cabal, Barnabas, and Sloane, and it seemed as if she’d managed to wrangle everyone together for it. But instead of going to her, he mouthed at her, “Hold on,” and disappeared beneath the balcony she stood on. Part of him hoped she’d follow after to save him from whatever Gemma and Warren might’ve had in mind, and part of him didn’t, and for that exact same reason.
A minute later, and they stood outside the abandoned chapel. Hex must’ve been upstairs with the others, because approaching the doorway, Felix couldn’t hear her laying into Ichor. Gone were the cracking whips and pounding nails, and the heavy breaths after each beating. No more sobbing, no more swearing. Just the sounds of growing.
“Anyone going to bother us here?” Warren asked.
Felix shook his head, said, “That’s the point of the place.”
Gemma slipped into the dark chapel and said, before they entered, “Your god cool with this?”
I’m not, Felix said to himself, going in. I’m not at all.
Hex had taken Ichor apart and redecorated the chapel with his pieces. Her brother was still bound to the altar, and still breathing, but the husk that was his body had been hacked apart, stretched to its limits. Vermillion veins had been pulled from his every pore. They ran from the altar, across the floor; formed an ever-tightening lattice around the walls and ceiling. Thin, hair-like versions of the veins blanketed the pews, and when the draft caught them, they shivered with the sounds of shaking icicles.
Felix felt sick. It was made worse because he knew what it meant. Gemma and Warren probably thought these were God’s veins, that It was finally making Its move on Cathedra. But this was Ichor all over the walls. Hex had done this to him. She’d tortured him so much that he was tearing himself apart to reach God, to beg for revenge or release.
I have to stop her. I can’t let this keep going on. Seeing this, seeing the Compellers burning monsters at the stake… It was too much. He and Justine were god now, and these things shouldn’t be, couldn’t be, happening under their watch. There had to be other ways.
“Ichor you’re looking icky,” Gemma said.
The lump that was Ichor rattled. Wet crunching sounds came from his underside as he wiggled his belly into the top of the altar.
“I’m not going to turn on you,” Felix said, to both Gemma and Warren.
“You’re not going to offer us up like ‘gifts’ to Eddy?” Gemma snapped.
Warren, still in the doorway, leaned against it, blocking it. To get out, Felix would have to go through him, and going through Warren was like going through puberty: one awkward, voice-cracking battle cry followed by four years of fighting a fight that he was never going to win.
“No,” Felix said. “No, damn it. I’m not.”
“That’s what Justine suggested,” Gemma said.
Hot as the pyre outside, Felix cried, “What about you two, huh? What’s the Marrow Cabal really trying to get out of this? I’m not stupid.”
Warren crossed his arms, tapped his fingers against his biceps. “Protection. Intel. The same things you’re getting out of us.”
“The difference is we wouldn’t team up and turn you in to King Dingus,” Gemma said. “Fuck that guy, and fuck you for—”
“Stop,” Warren said. “Stop with the act, Girl.”
Gemma crossed her arms and twisted her mouth.
“I’m a self-employed man. I never saw myself working with anyone. As far as I’m concerned, we’re contractors,” Warren said. “Give us a job, and we’ll do it. We’ll do it right. You gave us our lives, but now you need to pay us. This uncertainty between us isn’t going to work if we’re constantly suspecting each other. You see what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” Felix said.
“Sparing someone’s life isn’t payment enough, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No, that’s not—”
“You’re grateful up to a point, and then it’s time for everyone to move on.” Warren scratched the side of his face, thought about what he was going to say next. “You treat us right. You don’t fuck us over. The Marrow Cabal is yours. Justine could’ve killed us but she didn’t. We appreciate that. But we’re mercenaries. Treat us like mercenaries, so we don’t have to do anything to make you want to fuck us over.”
Felix wandered deeper into the abandoned chapel. Minding his step, making sure not to crush Ichor’s veins—he’d been through enough already—he bought himself time with nods and hums. It wasn’t that he had any problem with what Warren was saying. It made sense. He wasn’t going to betray them unless they gave him a reason to. He didn’t mind paying them. It was that he could feel a change inside him, like a door opening in his stomach, letting a cold draft in. This was it for him. Justine’s life was on the line. Everyone’s was. The fate of the continent was at stake, too; and though he’d have her help, before others, he’d be alone. He couldn’t call himsel
f the Holy Child anymore, because he didn’t feel like a child anymore, and the things that needed doing were hardly holy.
It was time to act grown up, and act like the god he was supposed to be.
“We’ll negotiate terms with Hex and the others after the meeting today about getting the Marrow Cabal on the payroll,” Felix said, channeling “god” in his word usage and tone. “We’ll draw up a contract. No harm will come to you, I swear it.”
“Alright, then,” Warren said.
Gemma held up her hand, where the mouth in her palm drooled a pink discharge. “That’s all well and good, but I don’t trust Justine. She really is a Worm, Warren, and she’s got fucking Lillian inside her.”
“Huh,” Warren said, “well that’s something to consider.”
“Felix, she’s going to get you to do anything…”
Felix said sharply, “So? You had parents once. You loved them didn’t you?”
Gemma’s eyes narrowed on him. She shook. Her pale skin broke out into a sweat, as if she was back in Cathedra, her back to the pyre, facing a wave of faceless faces screaming for her death. Felix knew an anxiety attack when he saw one; had the scars to show for each fight on his thighs, too. Gemma always said she hated adults, but he didn’t buy that, even if she was giving it away for free.
“They… turned… on me,” she said.
“You said the Black Hour did something to them.”
“Killed them.”
“But not at first.”
“Listen, Holy Shithead, I went into that damn clock and I saved their asses, and what did they do?” Gemma took a deep breath. “Shipped me off to some fucking vampyre academy, like I was in some dumbass Young Adult book.” She closed her eyes; the mouths in her hands wept for her. “So, what if I loved them?”
“I love Justine, okay?” Felix said. It felt strange saying it aloud. “I’m going to do what I have to do to help her. I know I can. I know god will.”
Gemma rolled her eyes.
“If you have to choose,” Warren said, “between her and everything else.”
“Everything else,” Felix blurted out, not giving himself time to think about what Warren was asking. It was better that way. “But I’m still going to try to save her.”
“What if Lillian wins and takes her over?” Gemma asked sincerely. “What if it was a waste?”
“I’m still going to do it.” He stared at her, wanted to hug her. “You’d do the same again, wouldn’t you? For your parents. If you knew there was a chance?”
Gemma shrugged, mumbled, “I guess.”
From the altar, Ichor mewled. He jerked his body, and the vermillion veins attached to him that enveloped the chapel tightened, tugging at the stonework. Crumbling sounds came from the hole in the altar beneath him, as if he’d decided to keep digging deeper for Heaven below. Here and there, in whispers that barely registered as whispers, from an appendage that looked like a rotted apple core, Ichor would call out to them with one simple request: “Bring Hex back.”
“I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job,” Warren said, “but this—” he twirled his hand around, “—is a serious security issue.”
“Hex is trying to get Ichor to connect with the Vermillion God, so we can find out some of Its secrets.”
“Hex is off her rocker,” Gemma said.
“But she’s usually right,” Warren added.
“Whatever.”
Felix, remembering and needing to attend the meeting he’d called, left the chapel. Gemma and Warren followed behind him. It was good to know that, despite all their fire and brimstone, they could still fall in line and take orders when none had been issued.
Halfway down the hall, Felix turned to Warren and asked, “Why’d you say you had a thing for down-and-out orphans?”
“Yeah, that was a poor choice of words.”
“I’ll say,” Gemma said.
“Well, uh,” Warren began, “I guess because I am one. Was one. Hard to say when you stop being one. Grew up in this no-name village called Communion in a Holy Order-run orphanage. When I was old enough to stand up for myself, I got out of there. Told myself I was going to make it on my own. Did odd jobs.
“There was a lot of fighting going on back in those days between Penance and Eldrus, especially over the Divide. I wasn’t as big then as I am today—”
“And here I thought you were born a roided-out mongoloid,” Gemma said.
“Heh, anyway. When I was about your age, Felix, I started smuggling goods between the two cities to whoever would pay the most. I did that for a while. I was good at it. Other kids saw me do it and they wanted in on the action. It just sort of went from there. We kept collecting orphans. You know, there’s so many of them. I’m not a reputable man. I’m not going to pretend all the stealing and killing is good. But my people were fed and as safe as they could be. It was that or let them roll the dice. I never forced anyone to join. We had Night Terrors for a while, too.”
“Really?” Felix asked, thinking of Vrana.
“Yeah. They were probably spies, all things considered, but R’lyeh wasn’t the only one.”
He didn’t know that name, but couldn’t help but ask, “What were the other Night Terrors’ names?”
“Uh, shit. It’s been so long. One of them couldn’t speak. Had no tongue. What was his name, Gemma?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?”
“Deimos. That was another one of them. Deimos.”
Deimos? No way. Deimos? Felix laughed, said, “Wow, okay.”
“How’d you hook up with Elizabeth, Miranda, and Jessie?” Gemma said.
Warren stammered. He started walking ahead in the hall, stopped. His cheek sank in from where he chewed on it.
“I, uh, had just come back from a job in Angheuawl. That’s where I met Hex. We were busting up some protests over her husband, Hannover, putting in a drift mine. Few days out from there, somewhere around Formue or Hvlav, we run into the girls. They’d been on the run from the Nameless Forest non-stop. They’d looked bad. Said they’d formed their own mercenary group, the Deadly Beauties. I told them they could join up with us. They told us to go fuck ourselves.”
Felix and Gemma both laughed.
“We left for Skygge. They followed. They were part of our company before we knew it. Just… kind of…” He got choked up, played with the seashell necklace. “It just kind of happened that way. Few years later, found Francis. She really made the whole business as legitimate as it could be. Then Hex hired us awhile back to track Ichor there.”
Ichor cried behind them: “Bring. Me. Hex.”
“Then she showed up with the Skeleton. Nothing was the same afterwards.”
Felix smiled, said, “I bet,” and then: “What happened to them? The Deadly Beauties? I can tell you really—”
“Jessie died at Carpenter Plantation. We burned that place down, but I still see it when I look out the window sometimes. Breaks my heart. And, uh, Miranda died at the battle on the Divide.”
Suddenly, Felix remembered seeing three women inside the encampment that day on the river. One had been heavily tattooed, the other about his age; the last woman they’d been holding back. She looked as if she’d lost her mind.
“I’m sorry,” Felix said. “Is Elizabeth dead, too?”
Warren threw his hands in the air. “Dead… Alive… I just hope she’s happy. She deserves that, doesn’t she, Gemma?”
Gemma wouldn’t make eye contact with him.
“I’d do it again, though. Loved those crazy-ass women. I’d do it all again, same outcome or otherwise.” Warren nodded, agreeing with himself. “Yeah, I would, Felix. I would.”
Felix smiled. He thought: I’m an orphan.
Felix, Gemma, and Warren made it to the meeting on the second floor fashionably late. Hex, Commander Millicent, Barnabas, and Sloane looked as if they were ready to kill each other when they came strolling in. They each rose, bowed, and bumbled out a reluctant “Your Holiness,” all the while
their stomachs growled for the dinner they were missing. Felix waited until Gemma and Warren were seated and, not sitting himself, got started.
“I am sorry for the delay. There were other matters I needed to attend to.”
Sloane perked up. It was clear someone had told her about Felix’s involvement in Cathedra about the bar, but for now, she kept her mouth shut.
“God is going to Eldrus. The Mother Abbess and myself will be taking a sizable portion of Narcissus with us to Eldrus to meet with King Edgar.”
Commander Millicent sat back in her chair, shocked.
Barnabas, who’d been annoyed with the Conscription and army being here, couldn’t help but smile.
Sloane started: “But why must you both…?”
“Cathedra will continue to run as it always has without the Holy Order present. Exemplars will arrive in time and assist where needed. We will appoint trusted officials as well. Have you forgotten, Sloane, that we are god’s projections? We are appendages of god. We will not be harmed by any mortal. If the Impostor God wanted to strike us down, It would have done so already. Going to Eldrus will make no difference in that regard. But if we go to Eldrus, we can speak with King Edgar directly. Our presence will prove a much-needed distraction, and the people will fight harder knowing that myself and the Mother Abbess are on the frontlines as well.
“We will continue to have soldiers stationed across the Heartland. Commander Millicent will continue to use the Conscription to halt the Nameless Forest’s growth. We are not giving up. We are merely joining the fight; something which our predecessors never understood. They isolated themselves in Penance for years and years. If they had not, then perhaps the Disciples of the Deep would’ve never had the chance to take root. But now they have, and now we must rip them from the soil, once and for all.
“The Marrow Cabal and the Compellers will join us on our journey. Each village and town we pass through will be an opportunity to gather intelligence. Sloane, you will infiltrate the churches. Warren and Gemma will manage the low-places. We will continue to detonate the suicide bombers on Edgar’s soldiers, to show the horror and hypocrisy of the Disciples.”
