The Iron Ghost

by Jen Williams

  ‘It has crossed my mind,’ said Sebastian. He was watching the prince closely. Wydrin thought she saw more than mild curiosity in that look. So he is not dead below the waist after all.

  Dallen chuckled dryly.

  ‘We have been in conflict with the Skalds for as long as anyone can remember. My father is a very traditional man. As you may have noticed.’

  ‘He’s very keen on his axe,’ said Wydrin. ‘I noticed that.’

  ‘The king wants us to stay behind the walls of the Frozen Steps, to carry on with the way of life we’ve had for thousands of years. Everything must stay the same.’ He tugged at his small beard with his thumb and forefinger. ‘And I cannot really blame him. The Narhl are a part of this land, and our way of life has served us well. Our relationship with the land is unique, and perhaps it is necessary that our contact with outsiders is so strictly controlled. But I fear it is unsustainable. One day, I will be king, and I do not want to lead my people into a future of constant war. Of continual solitude. I believe,’ he shifted on the ground, speaking slightly faster now, ‘I really do believe that we can benefit from learning more about the outside world. That it can lead to better lives for my people. There is so much we don’t know, hidden away behind those walls, and we will never know any of it if we must be continually at war with the Skalds. On the other hand, their practices are a direct insult. An attack on the Narhl soul.’ The prince paused, looking up to meet their eyes. ‘It is not a jest when we say that they are destroying the mountain spirits. We all feel it, in here.’ He tapped his chest. ‘They cannot continue to treat the Heart-Stone in this way, chipping pieces of it off to make their slaves.’ He glanced down at his own hands, as if to keep his temper in check. ‘Werkens, as they call them, are pieces of the soul of the mountain. They are sentient, thinking, feeling creatures, as capable of thought and emotion as you and I.’

  ‘From what I have seen, the Skalds will not give them up on your say-so,’ said Sebastian softly. ‘The werkens are how they build their homes, how they defend their city. Werkens are at the heart of Skaldshollow.’

  Prince Dallen nodded.

  ‘Oh yes, I am quite aware of that. Even so, I want to build a peace between our peoples. I want to start building it now, while there is still a chance for the mountain spirits. I want the leaders of Skaldshollow to come here, to meet with me, and we will talk. Properly. As we haven’t for generations.’

  ‘They will not come,’ said Frith. ‘You give them no reason to. You have stolen their property, killed their people. Now you propose they give up that which they hold to be the very centre of their civilisation.’

  ‘That is why I want you to take them a message. Wydrin, can you feel the werken in your mind?’

  Wydrin shrugged, and reached out for Mendrick. She could feel it close by, a chilly extension of herself, just waiting in the dark.

  ‘Tell me about the werken,’ he said. ‘How does it feel in your head?’

  Wydrin shrugged. ‘It doesn’t feel like anything much. It’s a cold feeling, like a little part of me is somewhere else.’

  ‘You do not feel its mind? There is no sense of another being?’

  ‘Not really, no,’ she smiled crookedly, realising that she was actually a little sorry to disappoint Prince Dallen.

  ‘There is a link between you,’ said Dallen, ‘but it is very faint. I can open that link, deepen it, and show you that the werken you are ordering around is a thinking, feeling being. When I have done that, you can take that message back to Skaldshollow. Perhaps then they will listen.’

  ‘Hold on a moment,’ said Frith. ‘The joining seemed violent enough, and quite frankly, it was a foolish thing to do in the first place. How do we know that this isn’t going to hurt Wydrin?’

  ‘Foolish?’ Wydrin shot him a dark look. ‘Foolish would be chucking yourself into a lake full of mage magic, surely? Or getting cold-cocked by a bird-headed god.’

  ‘The procedure is not without its risks,’ said Dallen. He met Wydrin’s eyes, and she saw the desperation there. ‘And you have to be willing for it to work. There is no way any Skald would agree to this. Don’t you see? This is the perfect opportunity, the perfect chance to heal things while it’s still possible. You will know, and then you can tell them.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Sebastian shook his head. ‘I appreciate what you’re saying, your highness, but we came to do a simple job, not to broker a peace. In all honesty, we’re probably the last people you should approach for that.’

  Wydrin thought of Mendrick, how the werken had moved before it was joined, its cold green eyes glowing in the dark. If she was imposing her will onto another thinking, feeling being, wouldn’t she want to know about it?

  ‘Is it reversible?’ she asked. ‘Once you’ve deepened this link between us, can we ever go back?’

  Dallen nodded. ‘You would need to remove the piece of Heart-Stone from your hand, that is all.’

  She took another gulp of the grut, welcoming the heat it brought to her stomach. She could feel Frith and Sebastian looking at her. ‘Let’s do it then,’ she said. ‘I’ve always said I’ll try anything once.’

  20

  Wydrin had visited Sebastian in Ynnsmouth a month or so after the incident with the lake-singer. It was a bright, cold day, the sun turning the snows to a silver glitter that made your eyes water.

  The brood sisters on duty that morning, Nettle and Umbellifer, reported her approach a good hour before she arrived; Sebastian had posted lookouts along the path from the moment they’d arrived, and there wasn’t a second when the way to the temple wasn’t watched. He had taught Wydrin the directions to the secret path years ago, reasoning that the abandoned temple might make a handy bolt-hole should any of their more morally dubious jobs blow up in their faces – after all, the last place anyone would think to look for an exiled knight would be in Ynnsmouth.

  She came up the wide stone steps, an expression of wry amusement on her face. She wore her habitual travelling leathers and a furred leather cap on her head, and long gloves and boots. Her pack looked both heavy and well-used, as though she’d been travelling for some time.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ she said, breaking into a grin. ‘I hope that ugly pile of bricks has a big bastard fireplace.’

  Sebastian folded her into a hug, laughing. The temple stood alone on its hill, sheltered within the shadow of Isu, the grass overgrown, the roof blistered and leaking. He and the brood sisters were already working on fixing it, and most of the debris of so many untended winters had been swept away.

  ‘It certainly has,’ he said, after planting a kiss on the top of Wydrin’s head. ‘The brood sisters are not fond of the cold at all, and they keep it roaring at all times.’

  At that Wydrin’s grin faltered, and she looked down the training slopes. He watched her taking in the sights. Below them a row of ten brood sisters were moving in slow, considered formation, wooden swords clasped in their green hands, while across the snow another group of ten were at the tanning racks, repairing clothes and armour with expressions of intense concentration.

  ‘It’s quite the set-up you have here, Seb,’ she said carefully. ‘Have you got them doing your old exercises?’

  ‘They’ve taken to it all quite naturally. Here, come into the temple and I’ll get you some tea.’

  Sebastian led her up the steps and through the lacquered doors. Inside the cold daylight painted brittle squares on the flagstones, while huge oil lamps burnt in all four corners. The fireplace was at the far end, tended by Ephemeral. In the roof there was a great square skylight, filled with clear glass and miraculously intact after years of abandonment. Through it, it was possible to see the distant peaks of Isu, white and deadly against the blue.

  ‘Ephemeral, is there a brew on?’

  The brood sister turned away from the fire at the sound of his voice, and then broke into a smile at the sight of Wydrin.

  ‘Wydrin Threefellows, I am very glad you could come and visit with us,’ and
then to Sebastian, ‘the pot is still full, Father.’

  ‘Thank you, Ephemeral. Crocus wanted your help with a bit of darning she was struggling over.’

  Ephemeral looked reluctant to go, her eyes roaming over Wydrin with a hunger Sebastian couldn’t name, but after another nod that was almost a bow, she left. Sebastian dragged a pair of wooden chairs over to the fire, and fetched the clay cups from a tray on a table.

  ‘Now when you say tea, Sebastian, I’m assuming you actually mean brandy or something, because I’ve been walking for days and every bit of me is frozen. I wouldn’t be surprised if I take my clothes off later and find out that bits of me have dropped off.’

  ‘I will put some brandy in your tea.’ He poured her a cup, adding to it from a silver flask at his own belt, and poured himself a measure too. They sat for a few moments in companionable silence. It was good to see Wydrin’s face, and strange also – for the past two weeks he had seen no one who did not have yellow eyes and pointed teeth.

  ‘So,’ she said eventually, when she’d downed her first cup of laced tea and refilled it with rather more brandy. ‘How is this all going?’ She gestured round at the temple. It still smelled of the incense the Order had burnt for their rites, so many years ago. ‘Any problems yet? Anyone eaten anyone else?’

  Sebastian looked down at his tea. ‘It hasn’t been entirely plain sailing.’

  Very quickly he told her of the lake-singing girl and her family, watching as her normally cheery face grew more troubled. When he’d finished, she reached across and took the brandy flask from him, drinking directly from the bottle.

  ‘Ye gods and little fishes, Seb. And no one caught you after that?’

  ‘We were very careful. We travelled mainly by night from then on. Once or twice we found a hiding place and stayed there for days, while I went on ahead to find the safest route. I saw hunting parties several times, but I made sure we left as little track behind as we could. We crossed back and forth over rivers, covered our scent with mud.’ He half laughed. ‘All that stuff I learned as a novice actually came in handy.’

  ‘Even so, that’s bloody risky. And you’ve had no trouble since?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think they believed that we’d go into the sacred mountains. And we don’t even know if they’d have taken the father’s report seriously. Besides which,’ he poured himself another cup of tea, mainly to warm his hands up, ‘hardly anyone knew about this place. Once, it was a secret temple, known only by knights who had reached a certain level in the Order. And then the path that led to it was lost in an avalanche, and it was forgotten.’

  Wydrin tipped her head to one side. ‘Can you be absolutely certain of that, Seb?’

  He shifted in his chair. For the first time he felt faintly irritated. There were always so many questions with Wydrin.

  ‘You forget, I saw the vast majority of the Ynnsmouth knights die under Y’Ruen’s flames. And most of those that were left will have died at Baneswatch. Besides which, this particular temple had been abandoned for decades before I was even a novice.’

  ‘Why even come here, Seb?’ She was looking at him with her head tipped to one side. ‘Ynnsmouth, of all places?’

  ‘We could hardly go back to Relios, could we? This was the closest safe place I could think of. And we won’t be here for ever. We just need time to . . . get things straight.’

  Wydrin nodded and kept her silence, a sure sign she wasn’t convinced. He decided to change the subject.

  ‘I half thought you would arrive with company.’

  She raised an eyebrow at that. ‘Well, I could have brought a fleet of pirates with me if you’d only mentioned it. They would have drunk you out of brandy though.’

  ‘You know who I’m talking about. Where is Frith now? I had the brood sisters looking out for a griffin.’

  To his surprise, it was Wydrin’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘He is at his castle, of course. We visited there on our way to see my brother.’ She paused. ‘While we were there, Frith received a message of some sort, and suddenly it was like talking to a lump of stone. He spent hours in his study, he wouldn’t see me. You know he’s always been a moody sod, but this was different. It was like he was frightened to talk to me.’

  Sebastian frowned. ‘Did you find out what the message was?’

  ‘Of course. I bribed one of his servants to peek at the letter for me.’ She fell silent then, staring into the fire.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It was nothing. Just a message from some Lady something or other, a fancy sort who owns land on the other side of Litvania. An invitation to meet up.’ She shrugged. ‘You know what these lords and ladies are like, they have to write everything down on gilded parchment in case they forget who they’re supposed to be having tea with. When I eventually got him to talk to me, he said that he had to arrange a few more things in the castle, that he had responsibilities that needed his attention, and he wouldn’t be coming with me to Crosshaven.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We have word of a job at Stingingmoon Bay, an island to the north of the Horns, so when I’m done here I will meet him there. With you, if you’re able to come.’

  ‘We’ll have to see about that.’ He looked up at her, examining the way she sat on the edge of the chair, the way she fiddled with the ties on her leather belt. ‘Did you two . . .? Are you two . . .?’

  ‘Did we what? Wrestle bears? Go tree climbing?’

  ‘Wydrin, forgive me, but you’ve never exactly been coy about the men you wanted. There have been times, in fact, when I would have sacrificed a leg of my own to the god-peak not to hear about your conquests, and yet, with Frith, you dance around the subject. You dance around each other.’

  She looked up at him, her green eyes both annoyed and amused.

  ‘Well, if that’s what you’re asking, we are not. He is . . .’ She threw up the hand not holding the cup. ‘Infuriating. Exasperating. Fascinating. Half the time I want to stab him, and half the time I want to eat things off his body.’ She sighed heavily, and then laughed at the look Sebastian was giving her. ‘He’s a mess. I’m not sure I’ve got the patience to wait for him to stop tying himself in knots over everything.’

  ‘Maybe it’s not a choice you get to make.’

  ‘Oh give over. You know me, Seb. I don’t take these things too seriously.’

  Sebastian smiled, pouring more tea, but, watching his friend’s face, he wasn’t entirely sure he believed her.

  ‘I’m more concerned about the situation here,’ said Wydrin. ‘They are still calling you Father, I notice. How do you feel about that?’

  Sebastian shrugged. ‘They don’t all call me that. Some of them do. It seems to make all this easier for them to understand.’ Wydrin was suddenly conspicuously quiet so he kicked her boot. ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know, Seb. This all seems very risky. You could be found up here by someone, or they could turn on you. I don’t like you being alone with them.’

  ‘They wouldn’t harm me.’

  ‘See, I think that’s something else you can’t be sure of. I saw what these soldiers can do first-hand.’

  ‘Then what was I supposed to do? Just leave them to their fate at Baneswatch?’ He put down his cup of tea, too agitated to hold it. ‘For better or for worse, my blood awoke them at the Citadel, and now we are linked by that blood. I can still hear them sometimes, in my head, like whispering at a distance.’ He shook his head at Wydrin’s look of concern. ‘It’s under control. The brood sisters that are left are my responsibility.’

  ‘Oh, the dragon was your responsibility, and now her daughters are your responsibility? Sebastian, not everything is your problem to solve.’

  ‘And not everything can be run away from.’

  Wydrin raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t know what you think you mean by that, but—’

  Someone cleared their throat behind them, and Sebastian looked up to see the Second standing a short distance away. Her hair was still loose over her shoulders, tangled a
nd dirty, and she was breathing hard. In her left hand she clutched what looked to be the remains of a mountain rabbit, ragged and bloody.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The beast has returned.’

  The Second led them back outside, down the temple steps and along a narrow path that cut easterly across the long grass. Sebastian and Wydrin followed slightly behind.

  ‘And what is this about?’ asked Wydrin.

  The path turned abruptly, and below them the ground fell away to reveal a shallow valley far below, thick with trees. There was a wide river running through it, splitting into three tributaries. They shone like an elaborate diamond necklace.

  ‘We set up traps around the perimeter of the temple for rabbits, goats, other small animals. About a week ago we realised that something big was stealing what we’d trapped, and, more often than not, tearing it to shreds on the spot.’ The Second glanced back at them, apparently to make sure they were still following, and led them along a section where the path was little more than a suggestion. ‘I’ve seen this before. It’s a meadow wolf.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds rather pleasant,’ said Wydrin. ‘Does it frolic in the grass and make daisy chains?’

  ‘Hardly.’

  Ahead of them, the Second stopped. They had come to a small clearing shadowed by young pine trees. On the ground, half hidden in the tall grass, was a broken wire snare. There was blood all around it, standing out against the green like rubies.

  ‘It came from the valley,’ said the Second. She crouched by the broken snare and pressed her fingers to the ground there. They came away bloody. ‘I have tracked it back that far.’

  Sebastian frowned. ‘You went scouting by yourself?’

  ‘I tracked it,’ she said again. Out of the corner of his eye Sebastian saw Wydrin cross her arms over her chest.

  ‘You know that we have to be very careful about how far we travel from the temple.’

  ‘You are afraid to hunt the beast? Is that what it is?’