by James Maxey
Of course, I take these teachings with a grain of salt. The Vanished Kingdom is proof that men lived long before the Church of the Book. I’m sure that these men believed in the stone idols they worshipped, gods whose names are now completely forgotten. If ancient men had been mistaken about their beliefs, why should modern men be any different?
All my life, I assumed that I’d finally discover the answers to these philosophical questions once I was dead. What a gyp that I have more questions now than ever. Still, when I think of the scaly flesh that surrounds Relic’s eyes, I can’t help but think of how closely he resembles the drawings of demons from the books of my youth.
After her meal, Infidel got dressed in the clothes Aurora had found. Though the tan britches and striped shirt were tailored for a man, I thought she looked fantastic. Her sculpted perfection makes her enticing even in peasant clothing, her features unadorned by make-up or jewelry. Royalty breeds for beauty. I can only imagine that, dressed in lacy gowns in a palace, her face framed by pearls and gold, she must be breathtaking.
Aurora created a mirror of ice for Infidel to use to fix what was left of her hair. She had little choice but to crop what was left, trimming away the frizzled ends. While I’d always liked her long silver tresses, I had to admit this new style had a certain charm. It highlighted the graceful lines of her smooth, slender neck, and drew attention to her enigmatic gray eyes.
I wondered where she would go after she was done with her hair; I was certain she wouldn’t simply wait for Relic. Then, fate provided her with a destination. Far out at the mouth of the harbor, dark shapes appeared, a long line of humps rising and falling in the water. At first, I thought it was an enormous serpent, but as it drew closer I could see that it was, in fact, a pod of a dozen whales, enormous blue-gray beasts big as ships. Long strands of woven seaweed trailed from elaborate harnesses that hung over their broad, flat faces. A crew of mermen swam beside them, urging them on, prodding the slower ones with tridents, and trumpeting long, low commands through horns fashioned from giant conch shells.
Behind it all, towed by the mighty sea beasts, was an enormous barge, waves breaking against its squat frame. From the center of the barge a single mast thrust into the air, sporting a banner of white and the silhouette of a black swan.
Aurora rose, shielding her eyes, staring at the barge like it was an apparition. The new arrival looked much like the old Black Swan barge, only larger and obviously newer. It now rose three stories instead of two. One by one, the whales were set free of their harnesses as momentum and tides carried the vessel forward. The mermen exceeded even the Wanderers in their understanding of water currents. The barge came to a halt mere feet from a newly built dock the Wanderers had finished only hours before. A crew of men leapt from the barge to lash it into place. Anchors splashed all around the vessel, sinking down to the mud. The Black Swan had come home.
Aurora jumped down from the boat, quickly clearing the tangled mangroves and reaching the mudflats. The ground crackled as she froze a long, rock-hard path across the mire. Infidel leapt to follow her, slipping the second she hit the icy mud. She grimaced as she waved her arms for balance, looking around for a less slippery path. She jumped toward a river-pygmy canoe floating about twenty feet out in shallow water. The two pygmies currently occupying the canoe toppled into the bay as Infidel landed in the center of the craft. The canoe spun, capsizing as the lip sank beneath the water, but Infidel had already kicked off again, flying toward a slanted piling that jutted from the water. She barely touched down before she sprang again, leap-frogging her way toward her destination. When she reached the Black Swan, she leaned against a wall, crossing her arms. She looked nonchalant as Aurora climbed up onto the deck.
“What took you so long?” she asked.
Aurora didn’t respond, racing past Infidel toward the main door of the new Black Swan. There were no guards in place to stop the ogress from bursting through the door. The main room had more gambling tables than the old one, and the whole place smelled of pine varnish. It hadn’t yet acquired the funk of ten thousand cigar-smoking men and the heavily perfumed women who clung to their arms. Infidel followed as Aurora vaulted over the bar and down the hall beyond. At the end of the passage she looked ready to throw her shoulder against the door there.
Before she could make a move, the door opened.
The thick, cloying scent of potpourri poured out into the hallway. Aurora stepped into the dimly lit room with Infidel at her heels. The room was little changed. If not for the smell of freshly finished carpentry, it would be easy to mistake the Black Swan’s new chamber for her old one.
The Black Swan herself was stretched on the couch. In front of her, there was now a low table covered with a long semi-circle of engraved letters, painted white against the black finish of the wood. It was a simple alphabet, plus the numbers 0 through 9, and a few common marks of punctuation. The only actual words were a ‘YES’ at one end and a ‘NO’ at the other.
“Mistress,” said Aurora, sounding joyful. “You’re still alive!”
The Black Swan said nothing. One of her bony hands unfolded from her chest and pointed toward the ‘NO.’
Infidel sucked in her breath. I followed her eyes to the Black Swan’s wrist. It wasn’t merely bony; it was actual bone. Beneath her black veil, I could see an eyeless skull, white as chalk.
“Oh, mistress,” whispered Aurora.
The Black Swan moved her finger across the board with a surprising rapidity; she seemed much faster now that she was freed from her withered muscles.
“My work is too important to be slowed by death,” she spelled.
Infidel stepped back toward the doorway. She looked… spooked. I’d never seen her react like this.
The Black Swan nodded toward her and spelled, “You need not fear me.”
Infidel squared her shoulders. She put on her brave face, but I could hear a hint of discomfort in her voice as she said, “I’m not afraid. If you give me any problems, you won’t be the first undead I’ve taken apart this week.”
The Black Swan nodded.
“How did you do this?” Aurora whispered. “Why?”
The skeletal hand tapped out. “My great work is not yet finished.”
Aurora furrowed her brow. “Your great work? What great work? I’ve never known you to want anything other than money.”
The Black Swan tapped the ‘YES.’
“People say you can’t take it with you,” said Infidel. “Guess you proved them wrong.”
‘YES.’
Then, she spelled out, “Priests tell us the world is built of matter, spirit, truth, and lies. There is a fifth force, most powerful of all. Money.”
Infidel looked skeptical. “I’ve known more than my fair share of rich people, and money hasn’t kept their skeletons animated after they croak.”
“They didn’t know how to spend it,” the Black Swan tapped. “With every journey into the future, my wealth grows exponentially. My purse strings entangle all the world’s kings. The future rests upon my decisions.”
“Really?” said Infidel. “Because with that kind of power, you’d think you’d choose to be something other than a bag of bones stuck in a dark, smelly room.”
Before the Black Swan could respond, Aurora asked, “Menagerie told me I was fired. Why?”
“You cannot serve two masters. You have chosen to recover the Jagged Heart and return to your people. I have arranged a contract with Ivory Blade on your behalf. We will not meet again after this day.”
Infidel stepped closer. “Then it’s true. Tower has the Jagged Heart.”
The Black Swan’s hand remained motionless as her empty eyes gazed at Infidel. At last, she shrugged.
“You mean you don’t know, or won’t tell us?” asked Infidel.
The Black Swan shook her head, the vertebrae in her neck creaking. “In my most recent trip to the future, I was unable to learn whether or not the Jagged Heart endures. All that is certain is that twelv
e of the world’s greatest warriors set out to slay Greatshadow. They failed. Only two survived.” She nodded toward Infidel. “I learned this from your daughter.”
Infidel’s eyebrows shot up. “My daughter?”
“Given her birth date, you may be pregnant now. If not, the child will be conceived within the month.”
“Umm… no. No, I can assure you that’s not possible. Whoever you met in the future, she wasn’t my kid.”
The Black Swan shrugged, then once more began tapping out a message. “The resemblance leads me to think otherwise, but no matter. I’ve returned to ensure that the future I lived through doesn’t come to pass. Your daughter died soon after I met her. Everyone died. Everyone.”
Aurora gave Infidel a puzzled glance.
“What do you mean, everyone?” she asked.
The room grew quiet save for the tapping of bone on wood. “All humanity is destroyed when the primal dragons rise as one to wipe out civilization in the span of a day.”
“That’s impossible,” said Aurora. “Hush would never take part in such destruction.”
“She does,” tapped the Black Swan.
“Why?”
“The dragons judge mankind for their sins; none are found worthy of forgiveness.”
Infidel looked pale. “Do… do we cause this? Does our quest to kill Greatshadow cause this destruction?”
The Black Swan shook her head. “The world carries on twenty years after the assault on Greatshadow.”
“The primal dragons think of time differently than we do,” said Aurora. “If there’s a risk that Lord Tower is going to trigger some kind of dragon apocalypse, we need to stop him.”
The Black Swan’s skeletal hand lingered over the board, edging toward the ‘YES.’ Then, her fingers returned to the letters to tap, “Rather than stop him, ensure he succeeds. We must hope the primal dragons will be weakened if Greatshadow is no longer among their ranks.”
“Hope?” said Infidel. “If you’re trying to change the future, shouldn’t we be going on more than hunches?”
The Black Swan shrugged and sank back onto the couch, growing very still.
“So, what, your plan boils down to guessing what we should do?” asked Infidel.
The Black Swan didn’t move.
Aurora put her hand on Infidel’s shoulder. “Don’t drive yourself crazy. I try to ignore any hints she tells me about the future. The more she tells you about tomorrow, the more she changes today, and pretty soon hunches and guesses are all you have. The best thing to do is make the choices you would make anyway. Try to pretend you’re in charge of your own fate, and not a puppet following someone else’s script.”
Infidel nodded as they left the room. “Yeah. Sure. I’ve never worried what the Black Swan thought before now. I guess there’s no reason to change that.”
They went back outside, blinking in the light. Aurora said, “I’m still going on the quest, but if you want to back out, I understand. I mean, if you’re pregnant…”
“I’m not pregnant!” snapped Infidel. “It’s not possible. It’s never going to be possible. Without Stagger, I wouldn’t want it to be possible.”
“You two never fooled around even a little? You can get pregnant just by-”
“No!” Infidel threw her hands up in the air. “This is crazy.” She gave a dismissive wave toward the Black Swan. “Forget her. All I know is I woke up this morning planning to kill Greatshadow, and nothing I’ve heard today has changed my mind.”
“What about the Truthspeaker?”
Infidel clenched her fists. “If he messes with me, he won’t be the first priest I’ve killed.”
Aurora nodded as they walked down the rebuilt dock. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe the Truthspeaker’s powers will affect me. Our faiths don’t overlap even a little. The whole truth and lies as foundations of reality, that’s just dumb. The world is obviously a flux of heat, light, cold, and darkness.” She blew out rings of fog. “The evidence is right before your eyes.”
“Whatever,” said Infidel. “I’ll let the two of you debate religion. I just want to get on with this dragon hunt. The quicker I get my hands on that treasure, the faster I can build my palace and hire my cake servants.”
“There are simpler ways to get cake,” said Aurora.
They reached the edge of the dock. Once it had led all the way to shore; now, crooked pilings were all that remained.
“There are simpler ways to get back to the boat,” said Infidel, looking out over the water. “But simple isn’t always entertaining.”
Without warning, she grabbed Aurora by the hips and hefted her up, holding the oversized woman directly over her head. Aurora let out a yelp as Infidel leapt, flying out over the topsy-turvy pilings, lighting down every third or fourth post before skipping on again. They reached the mangroves in under a minute and practically flew the last dozen yards to the boat. The old boards creaked as Infidel landed and planted the ogress on the deck feet first.
“Don’t do that again!” Aurora growled as Infidel giggled.
“What?” said Infidel. “You don’t like short cuts?”
Aurora sighed. “I’m not as invulnerable as you. One misstep on your part could have broken my neck, for no reason other than you wanting to show off. You’re reckless, princess. Perhaps this was charming when you were fifteen, but it’s not a quality I want in an ally when we face Greatshadow.”
“I was just having a little fun.”
“Children have fun. A warrior needs discipline.”
“I’m living backwards. I was disciplined as a child so I’m having fun as an adult.”
Aurora didn’t look persuaded by the reasoning. Before she could argue, someone cleared his throat from inside the tilted doorway to the cabin. Both women turned to see Relic squeezing from the opening, a large canvas bag slung over his shoulder.
“I told you to wait for me,” he grumbled. “Speed is of the essence. Ivory Blade has contacted the Three Goons. We need to prepare your disguise, and the dye takes several hours to set properly.”
He dropped the sack to the deck. Things within it clattered loudly, as metal hit metal.
“There’s dye involved?” said Infidel, squatting down over the sack. “I like my hair blonde.”
“It’s not your hair we’ll be dying,” said Relic.
Infidel opened the sack and pulled out various objects. She paused to study what looked like two shoulder caps for a suit of plate armor. They were formed of half-inch steel and polished to almost a mirror finish. Only, as shoulder plates, they weren’t very practical; the two halves were joined together by a single link of chain. And, the plates were too rounded. No one had shoulders this circular. Infidel looked puzzled as she turned the metal cups over and over in her hand.
“What the hell is this?” she asked.
Aurora chuckled. “It looks like a plate-steel bra.”
Relic was very quiet.
Both women stared at him.
He stared back.
“No freakin’ way,” said Infidel.
“This would be easier if you’d wear a helmet,” said Relic. “If not, we must choose attire that ensures none of the king’s men will be staring at your face.”
I expected Infidel to fling the armored lingerie into the bay. To my surprise, she shrugged. “What the hell,” she said. “It’s about time I had an outfit that doesn’t get ripped to shreds every five minutes. But if there are chain mail panties in here, I’m drawing a line.”
It turned out that there weren’t any chain mail panties, which provoked a mixed reaction within me. As unfair as it was for me to have such thoughts, I would have been relieved to see a full-blown, padlocked, cast-iron chastity belt. Infidel might have shrugged off the talk of pregnancy, but I was a little worried. My poor mortal frame might not have been up to the task of fathering a child with Infidel, but the king’s men were more than mere mortals. Lord Tower could fly, Father Ver can change reality with his voice, and Ivory
Blade supposedly can move faster than the human eye can follow. Who knew who else might along for the trip? What if someone among the heroes matched Infidel in strength and stamina? What if what the Black Swan said about an impending pregnancy was true?
CHAPTER EIGHT
WAR DOLL
The sun was directly overhead as we rode the churning waves toward the pirate cave. Was it only coincidence that Tower’s party had set up camp in the very place where all this had begun with the discovery of the map? I hadn’t told Bigsby the truth of where I acquired it, so he hadn’t passed on the information. Perhaps Ivory Blade had researched the map further and other sources had led him here.
The cave was located on the western side of the Isle of Fire, a stark landscape of steep, rocky cliffs scoured by ceaseless wind. The waters here are turbulent but deep; a ship can sail within inches of the cliffs if her captain is crazy enough to risk the swirling currents. The cave we aimed for wasn’t the only one along this coastline. The area was riddled with old lava tubes exposed by the churning sea.
Most of the caves hold nothing but bird nests; indeed, the sky above was full of feathered creatures in every hue of the rainbow, from tiny finches no larger than my thumb to albatrosses with wingspans longer than my bar tab. The pirate cave was right at sea level; the tides here can rise and fall twenty feet, and when the tide is low the opening of the cave is a long, narrow slash amid jagged stones, just wide enough to sail a good-sized schooner through. Within lies an underground lagoon nearly a mile across, ringed by a pebble beach polished smooth by the waves. It was a safe, sheltered haven, assuming the captain was skilled enough to thread the needle.
Fortunately, Infidel, Aurora, and Relic were in a small rowboat that could navigate the gap with ease, even with the rising tide. Infidel manned both oars, and her iron muscles were more than a match for the swirling currents. She aimed the boat for the gap and rowed confidently over the waves, shooting into the cavern swiftly enough to leave a wake. Gulls cried as they dove at the churned up water.
