The Pilgrims: Book One (The Pendulum Trilogy)

by Elliott, Will

  Another of them swept down then back, feinting to strike.

  Boom. Boom. Eric’s gun fired twice. The noise of it was shocking and, in the background, Faul’s snoring ceased at last.

  The Invia ignored the foreign sounds, assuming it to be something done by the duelling mages. The shots had missed. Eric seemed to be watching from above: someone who looked just like him ran down the steps, out into the yard, fired again three times. One of the Invia screamed and fell writhing to the ground, the tallest and thinnest, with flowing cobalt black hair. The others scattered, flying higher, the deadly trap they’d feared now revealed.

  Eric shot as the one with scarlet hair dived at him. A puff of feathers blew and a column of light beamed in the dark night through the hole in her wing. He hit her body with another shot. She screamed loud and spun in the air. Click went the empty chamber of the gun. But they fled. It looked like they were divers plunging towards an ocean of dark sky, filling it with their cries, inhuman and beautifully mournful. Blood pattered down from the wounded one and landed like raindrops in the dust.

  The pillar of light from Stranger’s spell had slowly withered to a trickle, writhing like a thin snake. Anfen rolled to his feet, picked up his sword. The Invia staggered up also, blood beginning to thread down its torso, one wing stretched rigid, the other limp and flopping. She cried out in confusion, trying to understand how and why she was hurt. She made a clumsy lunge at Anfen. He swung his sword at her, the blade flashing fast but missing as the Invia fell, sprawling, away from him. She lay shuddering. ‘It’s too late, Eric,’ Anfen said. His voice was incredibly tired, as though he’d have preferred the rest of death. ‘You’re Marked. You hurt her on the day of her death. Doesn’t matter which of us makes the last blow.’

  The Invia darted forwards, summoning some last reserve of that incredible speed, a fizz of motion. Anfen’s eye hadn’t left her. He swirled on his feet like a matador, spinning, wrists cocked, the blade angled behind him and held still. The Invia nearly decapitated herself on his sword, then fell, a burst of light pouring from the fatal wound, a shriek in her death that, despite her cut throat, spread as far through Levaal as there were ears to hear it.

  For what seemed a long time, everything was still and calm. The light from Stranger’s spell had faded to a flickering ghostliness and kept dimming, the twisting shape of it no longer distinct. The huge white wolf, Far Gaze, had run back the way he had come, every so often leaping high, jaws snapping at what seemed just air. Stranger, still hidden, fled from him. The wolf chased her until he had bounded from their sight and into the trees. Neither of the mages returned.

  Siel got back to her feet and gazed at Case with her teeth bared. Sharfy had seen that look in her eye once before and remembered what her curved knife had done to the last poor bastard on the other end of it. He ran back up the steps and stood between her and the old man.

  Case did not know his peril; his eyes were on the yard, where he’d seen something slip from Anfen’s pocket. The charm lay in the dirt, and he carefully marked the place, his heart pounding as he watched Anfen to see if he’d remember it.

  Eric crouched by the Invia’s corpse. He felt sick and numb, his mouth so dry he could hardly peel his lips apart. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, not to himself, not to Anfen.

  Anfen’s slanted eyes caught and held his. ‘I know what you’re feeling. But it wasn’t murder. They aren’t as human as they seem.’

  Eric swallowed. ‘They don’t seem human at all. They seem better than us.’

  Anfen put a hand on his shoulder. ‘This is our world, not theirs any more. The Dragon cleared this world of the dragon-youth, of which this is a servant, so that we could dwell here. Remember that.’ Anfen stood. ‘We’re all birds in a cage anyway. We must talk later. You are now Marked. You should learn what that means. And I must know all you can tell of that weapon you used. I wish you’d told me of it earlier.’

  Later, when Eric would look back on this moment, on Anfen’s words and the look in his eye when he spoke, he would think: I know why you didn’t say thank you. I’m pretty sure you seemed happier when you were walking out to die, dropping your sword, offering your throat. Like you’d been waiting for that moment a long time. Like it’s why you chose to camp on the hilltop, knowing the Invia would see you, and come for you …

  Right now, with the Invia’s corpse beneath him, and the sound of her death wail still ringing in his ears, such desolation was a feeling Eric could understand too well. Anfen headed wearily back towards the house.

  Suddenly in the doorway stood Faul, and she surveyed the sights of the yard in the fading light of Stranger’s spell. Her huge face was suddenly ferocious with rage. She stared at the Invia’s corpse. ‘WHO?’ she boomed. ‘WHO SLEW THIS ON MY LAND?’

  Its blood still dripped from Anfen’s blade. His pained smile said it all: And now this …

  Faul moved with speed impossible for something her size. All those on the porch were picked up and hurled towards the yard, the last of them airborne before the first had landed. Case luckily (unless Faul had intended it) landed on Sharfy, not the bare rocky turf. Only Lalie remained, squirming in fear on the end of her rope. Faul loomed over her.

  ‘AND YOU, GIRL. DEATH FOLLOWED YOU SURE ENOUGH, HERE, TO MY DOOR. IT CAN FOLLOW YOU ELSEWHERE. BE THANKFUL I DO NOT SNAP YOUR SILLY NECK. MY HANDS ITCH TO DO IT.’ Faul yanked the rope, pulling free a section of the post it was tied to. She picked up Lalie and hurled her towards Anfen. His arms spread to catch her, but she knocked him over, both of them winded, her leg grazed as it scraped on the ground. The piece of post thumped hard into the turf nearby.

  ‘TAKE BACK YOUR GIFT OF DEATH,’ Faul bellowed at Anfen. ‘I SHOULD SQUEEZE YOU ALL BY THE GUTS TO GET BACK THE FOOD AND DRINK I MADE, AND GAVE YOU, IN MY FOOLISHNESS. IN MY …’ her voice choked up.

  ‘We’re going,’ said Anfen as they picked themselves up. ‘I hope we meet again, when you’ve calmed. Thank you for your shelter. I’m sorry this happened.’

  Faul’s feet boomed down the steps. ‘I WILL NOT CALM. LEAVE NOW OR I BREAK YOUR HEADS LIKE EGGS.’

  ‘Come,’ said Anfen to the company. ‘If our host will be so kind as to throw us our possessions, our going will be easier.’ Lut emerged, a look of utmost regret on his face as he dumped their packs and gear into the yard.

  Eric turned just in time to see it. Case had edged his way around the group, while the company gathered their things, all eyes nervously on Faul. Now Case made a run for a patch of ground just beyond the Invia’s corpse. ‘Case?’ Eric called.

  Case looked back at him, hesitated, then grabbed the necklace from the ground and slipped it over his head. He vanished. Scuffs of dirt trailed away at the pace of his jog. ‘Guys! Wait!’ Eric called, rushing to follow before he lost sight of Case’s trail.

  But Anfen and the rest didn’t hear. At that moment, Faul charged like a bull, a howl of rage tearing from her throat, eyes ablaze. They scattered, all of them. Eric had a second to decide which way he went.

  In that moment he could smell Siel’s hair while her body nestled against his under the blanket, felt hope and desire bloom through him as it had just before hell had broken loose, a triumphant giddy voice crying: she’s mine! He also heard her voice, saying she’d looked inside his heart and mind and seen nothing. He hadn’t realised at the time, nor with the ensuing distraction of the scale vision, that they had been the most painful words ever spoken to him. He knew the choice may right now be: lie with her again tonight, or chase an old man through the wilderness, probably to their pointless deaths.

  If they met again, he could explain what his choice had been trying to show her, if it wasn’t already clear to her. ‘You stupid, stupid old fucker,’ he muttered, and ran in the direction he’d seen the scuffs of Case’s footprints take.

  34

  It was too dark to see them, but there up ahead he heard it with intense relief, the crunch crunch crunch of Case’s feet on gravel, slowing to a walk. Eric had follo
wed for a while, not even sure he was on the right trail, calling Case’s name to no response. Thin morning light revealed a plain of rubble and stones with no sign of life. Already Faul’s house couldn’t be seen when he turned and looked back. The wasteland of rocky turf sloped gradually downwards, awkward to walk on. On the very horizon’s edge was a raised bridge — a road, running left to right across the plain. Something, at least, to head towards. He hoped Case felt the same way, but there was no knowing, for the old guy wouldn’t speak and refused to take off the charm.

  ‘Case. Can you hear me? I hope to hell you’re listening. Because we’re square now. You think I got you into this whole mess in the first place? Well I’m telling you the ledger is even.’

  No response.

  ‘Hey. Remember? Switch that lever. Open that door. Fuckhead. Who started it, huh? Yeah OK, jumping through the door was a mistake. Maybe stopping to talk to you under the bridge was a mistake. But look. Think about it. Does this seem a good plan to you?’ Eric swept his arm around at the barren grey wasteland. ‘Think our next meal’s going to be easy to get out here? I can’t see any lonely journalists who might put us up and pay for our alcohol. Know any?’

  Crunch crunch, Case’s footsteps answered him.

  ‘It may not be too late to go back and find the others. Probably is, since they fled for their lives in a different direction, but maybe not. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to anyway, before we starve to death or get killed by pit devils or ringwraiths or whatever else.’

  Eric realised the sound of footsteps had ceased. Behind him, there was Case, head in hands sitting on a rock. ‘Why’d you follow me?’ he said.

  ‘You just heard why. So we’d be even.’ And to prove to a certain female I’ll probably never see again that I’m able to stand on principle, however pointlessly.

  ‘Why? What a waste, Eric. I did this for me. You weren’t meant to come. You were happy with the rest of em. I wasn’t. Didn’t like em or trust em.’

  Eric laughed. ‘Happy is maybe going a bit far. But we were fed and protected.’ He sat down beside the older man. ‘What is it, anyway? You want to go back home?’

  Case snorted. ‘We’re not getting back.’

  ‘What makes you think so?’

  ‘She told me herself. Opening the door, it was real powerful magic, more than people here can actually do, even them mages. She didn’t know who did it in the first place. We can’t open it. No one’ll do it for us.’

  Who’s ‘she’? Ah, Stranger … ‘Case, we don’t know that. Someone already did it: there must be a way. We could go looking. Maybe find our way to a city, ask around. Our very own quest. How about it?’

  ‘I’m not going back there,’ said Case.

  ‘Why not? You hate it here.’

  ‘I hate it there too. Hate it all. It stinks wherever you go. You get me? I’ve done my time. What’s life all about, Eric? What’s the big game, the whole point? I learned it. It’s to get to death in as much comfort as you can. Do your time, then bail. I fucked it all up pretty well but now I’m bailing.’

  Eric sat beside him, muscles in his thighs twitching from the walk. Day settled a little firmer around them, the sky going white. ‘Let’s go back, Case. Let’s find the others.’

  Case snapped, ‘To hell with them, and do what you like. I came out here to be with her.’

  ‘Right. You’re so certain she was following you. What if she doesn’t come? Because,’ he looked around, ‘nope. I don’t see her.’

  ‘She’ll come,’ he said angrily. ‘You bring the gun or not?’

  ‘Sure did. But you can’t shoot at hunger or thirst.’ Eric was overcome by a sudden burst of grief and guilt as he recalled the gunshots and the Invia’s dying scream. He moaned.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Eric stood and began walking. He saw again the last fumbling drunken charge of the wounded human-looking creature, wounds he’d inflicted himself. As though despair had been cast on him like a spell, it suddenly all seemed pointless, and he empathised with the old man. Maybe he too had had time enough. The gun was right here — into the mouth, pop, and it was done as quickly as one could hope. He could do it at any time. It was not a thought he’d ever had before.

  ‘Where you going, Eric?’ Case’s voice, edged with worry. Eric pointed at the bridge in the distance. Case’s footsteps scuffed the ground behind him. ‘Hey. Hey, wait up for me. Hey Eric. That gun. Why not hand it over for a while?’

  Am I as transparent as that? he wondered, handing Case the Glock. For a time they walked without speaking.

  ‘Shame about that bird lady,’ said Case with a sigh. ‘They’re pretty, they are. Real pretty. But so what? You did what you had to. Took balls to do it. Didn’t think you had it in you, but I was wrong.’

  Eric didn’t answer.

  ‘I know what it feels like,’ said Case with a sigh. ‘Believe me, I know. It’ll stay with you, but it’ll let you have some peace, now and then at least.’ He put an arm around Eric, who was surprised to find himself crying.

  Little sections underfoot spitefully gave way here and there. Amongst the smooth white stones sharp rocks dug at their feet. They sweated, but not too much, for the ivory-white sky did not bear down with a sun’s heat. The distant bridge and road slowly got closer. ‘Can’t get my head around the temperature here,’ Case grumbled. ‘How do they work it out, with no sun? Some days are warm, some days cold. Like someone flips a coin.’

  ‘I asked the others about it. They don’t have seasons here. What’s weirdest is, they still mark the days with the same units of time we do. Days, weeks, months, years, centuries. Hours and seconds, for that matter.’

  Case grunted. ‘How’d they come up with all that, then, without a sun to work it out?’

  ‘Not sure. We’re not the first ever to come here from Earth. And I get the sense … no, it’s weird, but it almost seems we’re not that far from Earth, almost like this is just some hidden part of it. Maybe the last people who came through brought our system with them and they copied it. Who knows? It’s almost like someone changed the settings by pressing a button, making days and nights fit our pattern.’

  ‘How do they work out north from south, then? If they don’t have a north pole …’

  ‘That’s easy.’ Eric pointed at the sky. ‘Look at the clouds.’

  ‘What about em?’

  ‘They go only one way. South.’

  Case stared up at the few slowly crawling threads of cotton. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘No idea. But have you noticed the wind too? It mostly goes the same way. Swirls around a bit sometimes, but mostly goes south. I asked Loup why and he said I wasn’t ready to know. So there must be a reason.’

  Case whistled. ‘What’ve they got up there instead of sun and stars, then? What makes day and night?’

  ‘Not sure. There just is day and night, they seem to think. They don’t ask where it comes from. But do you notice the way our shadows are sometimes normal, but sometimes fall several ways at once? Like there’s more than one light source up there.’

  They paused for a breather when some suitably seat-like hunks of smooth stone appeared. The extent of their vulnerability in the eerily quiet rubble plain began to sink in. It felt as though they were little ants crawling across a giant’s plate. Even a twisted ankle out here would be grim news — Eric couldn’t picture either of them carrying the other very far.

  ‘See that light pour off her?’ said Case with a sigh. ‘Wasn’t that something?’ He’d been looking over his shoulder as time went by, concern beginning to creep into his features. It’s dawning on him, Eric thought. There is an ‘oh shit’ moment coming which he’s trying to hold off. Before, he thought she stayed away because of the others. The others aren’t here, now. So where is she?

  He wasn’t going to press the point. ‘That was something, all right. Magic, they call it. We’d better move.’

  Walking took concentration. Pebbles scatt
ered from their feet with noise that seemed huge, accentuating their solitude. Eric’s shoes hadn’t been made for this kind of travel — he wondered how long they’d last, and just what the hell he’d do about it when they fell apart. His wallet still bumped against his thigh with each step. Why it seemed so important to keep it, he wasn’t sure — a souvenir of the old world, the real world? Somehow, being able to pat that familiar bulge was a good feeling.

  ‘Groundman hole ahead,’ said Eric.

  ‘You sure that’s what it is?’

  The gap — like a large open manhole tilted at an angle — was identical to the one Sharfy had pulled him into, near the door. ‘Pretty sure. You haven’t been down one of those, have you?’

  ‘Nope. Don’t like the sound of em, either.’

  ‘Agreed. Rather be lost up here than underground.’ They went closer to it, nonetheless, until Case grabbed his arm and yanked him away. ‘What is it?’ said Eric.

  ‘Look. There. Those tracks.’

  Just a few of the spiked holes, similar to the ones near the doomed hunters’ hall, littered the ground outside the tunnel. They did not spread far, as though the thing making them had come out only for a brief look around. A wind skipped across the plain, scattering dust down the groundman hole. It was too easy to imagine something down there, just out of sight, watching. ‘Come on. Let’s move.’

  They were both hungry by the time they got to the bridge. Eric knew the extent of Case’s folly — and his own, for that matter — would truly hit home around dinnertime if they couldn’t find a meal somewhere soon. He looked at the expanse of plains behind them, and ahead, and saw no evidence of small game, even if they wanted to waste bullets trying to shoot something. Nor did anything even remotely edible grow around them, just the stiff grass clinging desperately to a few softer patches of dirt amid the rubble.

  The road to either side of the bridge, at least, gave them hope. It cut across the plain, wide and paved from slabs of stone coloured deep blue, which in many places cracked and lifted from the surface. Nothing and no one passed along it in either direction as far as they could see.