Apostate's Pilgrimage: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Empire of Resonance Book 3)

by L. W. Jacobs

  They walked slowly to the stone, Ella watching it for any changes with her heart in her throat. She didn’t know what to expect—a line opening somewhere on its smooth length, or a sudden shattering, or a spear floating whole from the rock?

  A spear put there by the Prophet himself. A spear with the power of a god, if that god died.

  This one would not have that power, and if the stone did start to open, their plan was clear: act surprised. Stop doing what they were doing before anyone could take the spear—better it stayed in the stone than Ollen’s party force it from them. Then leave as soon as they could.

  Ten steps closer, fifteen, resonance humming, but the stone looked unchanged. When they reached it she struck her resonance in earnest, in case the stone needed more uai. Still nothing, though it took longer to see that in slip.

  She dropped back out, glancing at Nauro. His face was impassive, but this obviously wasn’t good. “Try striking secondaries?” she asked in a low voice. He said he would be deadening the air around them the entire time, but it still felt vaguely suicidal to say things that could turn the 40-odd men at their backs against them.

  He gave a brief nod and they did, Ella placing her hand on the stone as if she might feel something that way.

  Nothing, still.

  They tried various iterations for the next fifteen minutes, striking resonances, using them, trying different combinations, adding Feynrick to the mix, with nothing. All while talking nonsense about their studies, inventing various justifications for what they were doing.

  Ollen’s camp, for their part, seemed only vaguely interested, the younger and rougher of the bunch watching flat-eyed over their tea.

  Watching Marea, mostly. After Ella got over her initial beat of jealousy—when had men stopped watching her?—she worried for the girl. She was undeniably beautiful, in an elfin kind of way that men no doubt found attractive. And, as far away from anything as they were, she could likely look like a female Feynrick and still draw stares. At least, that had been Ella’s experience working on the Swallowtail Mistress, and those lechers were usually paying for company in ports besides.

  Eventually Nauro cleared his throat, after the fourth or fifth time attempting a combination of all their resonances. “Some tea of our own, perhaps?”

  A few of Ollen’s camp had wandered over, their own tea done, and the shaman likely just wanted to be sure they wouldn’t be overheard the old-fashioned way while they talked. They found Tai in the guyo, on edge for news of their first attempts.

  “Nothing yet,” Ella said, trying to think positively about it. “Nauro, do you think the problem could be that the spear inside isn’t activated? That this might work with Semeca’s stone?”

  The fyelocke shook his head. “Of course I don’t know for certain, but I doubt it would make much difference. Tracts have been written about attempting to open the stones pre-emptively, to get the spears out, as a way to double-cross other cells. Their authors presumably had studied enough of the stones to believe it possible.”

  “So the stones might be empty?” Marea asked.

  “This one might be,” Nauro said with a shrug. “Hard to tell when it’s not putting off uai. We can be sure Semeca’s is not, or none of her revenants would be free to get thralled.”

  “Because her power would be flowing to whoever held the spear,” Ella said, still trying to wrap her head around shamanic power.

  “Yes,” Nauro said. “If someone held her spear, they would become an archrevenant the instant Semeca died. And likely then hunt down any who tried to thrall the revenants in Semeca’s stream.”

  “If we know one spear is still intact,” Tai said, “doesn’t it stand to reason they all are? If someone had figured out how to open the stones, you’d think in all the years since these were made they would have taken all of them.”

  “Especially easily-reached ones like these,” Nauro said. “Yes. That sort of reasoning is what I’m banking on.”

  “So no one’s figured out how to open them in thousands of years,” Marea said, slumping to a seat. “Great. How long were we going to stay here?”

  “We have to try at least a little more,” Ella said. “Ollen’s camp obviously knows something we don’t, with the singing they’re doing. Maybe if we know what they know, we’ll be able to do it. This new incentive for power is drawing old knowledge out of the woodwork. We can’t leave until we have it, even if it’s still not enough.”

  Marea raised an eyebrow. “And how are you going to get it, if you can’t admit you know anything about what they’re doing?”

  Ella pursed her lips. “That’s the hard part.”

  “Well,” Marea said, standing abruptly. “Let me know what you find out. I’m sick of this guyo and all our endless talk about theories.”

  Ella frowned, but she really couldn’t make the girl stay. And she should be safe enough if she stayed close. “Watch yourself, okay?”

  Marea gave her a frown. “Sure, mom. Nauro, we good?”

  “I can keep your thoughts deadened, yes, so long as you stay within the bowl.”

  “Fine.” She pushed out the tent flap and was gone.

  “What’s gotten into her?” Tai asked.

  “Pining to get home, I expect,” Feynrick said, ceramic mug dwarfed in his thick hands. “You can’t keep a girl her age fenced in.”

  “And she has no stake in what we’re doing here,” Ella said. “It’s just a setback on her journey home, and she makes a good point that the information Ollen has will be difficult to retrieve.”

  “Even if you timeslip?” Tai asked.

  Ella shrugged. “I don’t know the layout of their tents, or where to start looking. Even at my speeds, I’d eventually draw attention.”

  “And that is the last thing we want to do,” Nauro said.

  Feynrick guffawed. “Then meaning no offense, Miss Ella, we might not want to send you in. Last time you tried to slip in to gather information seems like an army tent ended up on fire with Broken shooting out of it.”

  Ella reddened. “As I recall things were made a little less easy by you punching your old commander in the face.”

  “Me?” Feynrick’s brows shot up in mock outrage. “You were the one starting a catfight with some lady you knew from your Newgen days.”

  Tai held up his hands. “Enough! Okay. Maybe slipping in isn’t such a good idea. But what else is there? Nauro?”

  The fyelocke grimaced. “Any attempt I make would be noticed by an experienced shaman, as I expect at least Ollen is.”

  “Okay,” Tai said. “Other ideas?”

  Silence. Ella looked around the room and saw only consternation on the other faces. Not good.

  16

  Marea pushed out of the guyo doing her best not to scream. Seriously? Not only did they trek eight days through frozen wilderness to get to this stone, but now that they knew it wasn’t the right one they wanted to stay? Even though they had no idea how to open it? And they’d be in danger the whole time?

  Stains, it was enough to make her want to slap the bunch of them, even Ella. Marea paced the edge of the bowl, frustrated that she couldn’t leave it, couldn’t talk to the other camp, couldn’t just go home—it was too dangerous. Danger all the time.

  Danger got boring. She hadn’t even earned this danger, it wasn’t like she’d done something fun and now she was paying for it. She’d just taken the only way out of a rebel city, and here she was still stuck in their schemes. Stuck more than ever, sitting out here in the middle of nowhere no closer to Worldsmouth than she’d been when they left.

  Prophetscock, it was enough to make her pull her hair out. Instead she found herself wandering down to the stone, running her fingers along its side. The thing had a power, she would admit that much at least, whether or not it was the key to someone’s godlike powers or not. If she could just open it herself, maybe she could leave this scatting place, get back to somewhere someone actually cared about her—

  “Pretty amazing, i
sn’t it?”

  Marea started out of her reverie. One of the other camp’s men stood in front of her. Leaned actually, broad shoulders to the bare stone.

  “I—yeah,” she said, caught off guard. “And you are?”

  “Avery,” he said, pushing off to brush lips against the back of her hand. “I’m with Ollen’s crew.”

  “Not many other people you could be with,” she said, trying to regain her composure. He wasn’t handsome, exactly, but there was something about him. A freedom in his eyes. “You’re from the Mouth, though?”

  His brows went up. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  She smiled. “Because you talk like a decent person. First one I’ve met in months, other than Credelen.”

  Avery glanced toward their camp. “Credelen. He’s…”

  “An ass?”

  He smiled, brushing back rakish fyelocke hair. “Yes. Exactly.”

  She was smiling back, then suddenly the moment got awkward. Say something, Marea. “So what do you—do, here?”

  Awkward too, but better than silence.

  “Who, me? Oh, I just haul things for Ollen, watch the camp, you know.” He shrugged. “Easy stuff.”

  Her certainly looked like he did a lot of heavy lifting. Thick forearms came from the ends of his shirt, muscles stretched his pants, and he just looked solid, standing there. Solid and refreshingly real, after everyone lying to each other all the time.

  He was looking at her expectantly. Stains, did she miss something? “Sorry, what?”

  He smiled. “I said, what do you do in your party? You’re all, ah, researchers, right?”

  “Oh. Yeah. I—I’m a relative. Of Miss Ella’s.” It sounded stupid the moment she said it, but what was she supposed to say? They hadn’t even really made a place for her in their lies. Just some orphan tag-a-long girl.

  “From the Mouth?”

  “Yes. Upper east side. Near Widow’s Hill, you know it?”

  “Oh, I know it,” he grinned. “I used to push casks up Widow’s Hill from the docks. On the way to the snobs at the Downs.”

  She snorted. The Downs was where councilors and their rich supporters met to talk policies and contracts and generally show off their wealth. She’d been there once, with her father, who’d spent half their monthly income on two glasses of Gyolla liquor to impress a new association who didn’t end up investing anyway. “Should have pissed in the casks.”

  He grinned. “I was tempted, a time or two. To replace what we drank on the way up.” He winked.

  She laughed. “It’s really nice to talk to a real person, you know that?”

  He shook his head, still grinning. “What do you mean? Your people aren’t real?”

  “No, I just—” she flushed, hating that she had to watch what she said. “We’ve been on the road a long time, and you get tired of the people you’re with, you know?”

  “Oh, I know,” he said, raising eyebrows in a way that seemed to say don’t even ask because I’ve got stories. “And I’ve got forty of ‘em to get tired of. I can’t imagine what a tiny group like yours is like.”

  “It scats,” she said, “but at least we’re here now.” At least she had met one person worth talking to. Who actually wanted to talk to her back, instead of just tolerating her.

  “Avery,” an older lighthaired man snapped. “Aren’t you supposed to be felling trees?”

  Avery ignored the man, but gave her a grimace. “The only thing more boring than having nothing to do is having a lot of boring things to do. See you around?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d like that.”

  He turned to go, then turned back. “Hey, if you wanted, you could come around tonight. We always do a big meal on Ascension, and I’m sure you’d be welcome.”

  Welcome. Didn’t that sound nice? “Okay. Yeah, I think I will.”

  “Great. Till then, then?” He gave her a mock bow, sweeping an arm out in highborn style, then winked and strode off toward the older man.

  Marea watched him go, feeling better than she had in weeks. In months. It didn’t hurt that his backside was as pleasant to watch as his front.

  The others came out eventually and they did more of their farce, pretending to measure out angles and things while Ella whispered instructions about resonances, and the stone continued to just be a stone. Marea caught glimpses of Avery in the crowd now and then, and found herself blushing and smiling.

  How long had it been since she’d done that?

  Eventually they gave it up, star’s light stretching shadows over the bowl and hinterland chill coming down even through whatever strange heat the stone gave off.

  “I see you made a friend this afternoon,” Ella said on the way back.

  “I did.” Marea smiled. There was really nothing to talk about, but still it was nice to talk about it with someone, like she used to do in Newgen with whoever was her best friend at the time. “Avery, is his name.”

  “Avery. And what does this friend do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know really. He’s just one of the other camp’s workers, I think.”

  “Mhm. A very handsome one of the other camp’s workers, as far as I could see.”

  Marea smiled. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Ella glanced around them—Nauro was a ways behind, and Feynrick up ahead, helping Tai clean some hares he’d caught. “Just be careful, okay, Marea?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we are two women in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of men, and we don’t know their intentions.”

  That was annoying. “Avery’s a nice guy.”

  Ella gave her that infuriating smile she used sometimes, like oh to be that young and innocent again. “Lot of men seem nice, till you figure out what they really want. Nauro said half of their party were shamans or training to be. He could just be using you to get to Nauro, or Tai.”

  Anger flared up hot in her belly. “Or he could just be interested in me for me, Ella, did you ever think of that? I know I don’t mean anything to you guys, but that doesn’t mean everyone in the world feels the same way!”

  Ella started. “Marea, I—”

  She didn’t want to hear it. “No, it’s fine, whatever, I get it. You’ve got Tai and you’ve got your big secret mission. But not everything has to be about that, okay? Can’t you just be happy for me?”

  Ella didn’t answer.

  “What, no answer? Just admitting you’ve treated me like scat?”

  Marea stared at her, waiting for something, ready to attack it, but she still didn’t speak. And then scats take it she started to feel bad. Ella hadn’t really treated her like scat, she’d been nice. But it was infuriating how the only time they noticed her was to remind her how young and stupid she was.

  “I don’t think this is necessarily all about our mission,” Ella said finally, speaking slowly. “And I’m saying this because I care about you. I worked around a lot of men like Avery at the docks, after I escaped my parents. Hard men, who’d been at sea a long time. He doesn’t have to care anything about who we are to hurt you.”

  “You mean that he might possibly want to have sex with me?” Marea asked, loading on the scorn. “I’m not a child, Ella. I get that. And what if I want it back? Are you going to turn into one of the Councilate chaperones you hate and tell me I have to wait until an arranged marriage?

  That seemed to catch her off guard. Good.

  “No, I am definitely not. I just—I do care about you, Marea, and I think Avery only looks good because of the circumstances. But I trust you. Just—let me know, if you want to talk about anything. Okay?”

  She had wanted to talk, before now. Ella was a good friend. Her only friend, the last few months. But still ultimately a couple decades older, whatever she said about her age. “Sure.”

  She remembered Avery’s invitation then—she wouldn’t really be able to leave without them all noticing, so might as well get it out of the way now. See if Ella was serious about not turning into a c
haperone.

  “Oh, and he invited me to dinner tonight,” Marea said, “so I won’t need any of whatever Feynrick’s making. Just so you know.”

  Ella’s brows rose. “He—oh wow. Okay.”

  Marea held her breath, waiting for her mother’s words to come out of Ella’s mouth. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go over there with some boy you’ve barely met and a bunch of darkhaired louts.

  But Ella said nothing of the sort. In fact, she had that thoughtful expression that meant she was coming up with a plan.

  “What?” Marea asked. “You’re thinking about something, aren’t you? A plan to stop me?”

  “Who, me?” Ella asked, looking genuinely startled. “No. I—” She turned and met Marea’s eyes. “What would you think if I came too?”

  17

  “Absolutely not,” Tai and Nauro said at once, when they were back in the guyo.

  Ella had expected as much. “Think about it,” she said. “What we’re doing to open the stone isn’t working. They’re doing something different, which means they have some other information. Ollen is never going to share it with Nauro the scholar. But Ella, the ditzy trophy wife?”

  Tai looked uncomfortable at this, but Nauro spoke first. “Every moment you spend with them is a moment more for you to slip up, for them to see through our plans. And then it’s a battle just to escape with our lives.”

  “I think she’d be good at it,” Marea spoke up. “Better than any of you, at least. She’s the one that got Ollen to buy our story last night. Nauro, you lie like a second-rate mummer, and they can’t even know Tai exists.”

  “I think someone just wants to go see her new boyfriend,” Feynrick grinned, turning the hares on a spit.

  Ella grimaced at Marea’s expression, wishing she hadn’t shared that part.