by Mur Lafferty
Marcus glanced at it, then walked up the road a ways, squinting to look for other shelters. “Don’t know. But it doesn’t matter, we can’t get in.”
Julie thought of desiccated pirate bodies inside, undisturbed for over a decade. But the thought of spending the night in the open, in the desert, had her shaking her head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Let’s see if we can get in. If we have to clean out the trash, then we will.”
Marcus frowned and looked back at her. “That’s not respectful.”
“Oh? Why not?” Julie started toward the dome, about thirty meters from the hard packed road. The sand and rock were warm from the day, and seemed to hold more heat than they should. She slid down the embankment and picked her way through the rocks. Broken stone towers stood at the four corners of the compound; for spotting travelers and airships, Julie guessed. The towers had black sand stuck in every nook and cavity, but the wooden ladders to the top looked solid.
“The dead are sacred,” Marcus said, carefully sliding down the embankment after her. He didn’t look as impressive as he had that morning, when he’d been completely in control of the situation. “You bury them at sea. Or, I guess, like your people do it, in the ground. Or burn them. But you don’t refer to them as trash.”
Julie glanced over her shoulder at him. “So you make them fish food instead, and that’s supposed to be better?”
He sputtered. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Look, Marcus, you clean the dead and broken bodies out of enough of Meridian’s ruins, you start to see them as little more than refuse. They aren’t people anymore. Do it for a decade, they’re not even the memory of people.”
They reached the fine mound of sand that blocked the door to the bunker. The mound stood nearly as tall as the bunker. Only the hint of metal peeking out of the top and the upper outline of a door indicated it was there at all.
Julie climbed awkwardly, spilling sand down the makeshift dune, until she reached the top. “Don’t suppose you brought a shovel in all that gear, did you?” she asked.
“I’ve got a small one, yes,” he said. “What if we get it unearthed just to find it locked?”
She laughed at him. “You’ve got a thief’s cross and you’re worried about it being locked?”
He shrugged. “It’s not foolproof. I never know what it will do.”
“Go get your shovel and your thief’s cross,” she instructed. “I’ll see what I can do here.”
The sand was soft and fine between her fingers, and lodged under her fingernails as she dug, but she found the exercise invigorating. She no longer felt the weakness her body had suffered during her captivity in the temple, and she dug with new vigor.
She had half the door uncovered by the time he came back. Sand caked the corners of her mouth and her eyes, and she brushed at her face impatiently with the back of her hand.
When Marcus saw her, his eyes widened and he backed away. “Oh, for the love of the sun and the moon,” he whispered.
“What is your problem?” Julie asked, annoyed. “I’ve almost got the handle
unearthed. Come help me with your relic over there.” She waved her hand at him.
“Julie, I think you need to get out of the sand. I think we need to,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it of something.
The wind blew and the light began to fade. “No time,” she said. “We need to get somewhere safe.”
“You have no proof this is, uh, safe,” Marcus said. He watched her helplessly, and then he gave in and joined her in the excavation, first with his shovel, digging precisely and neatly, and finally dropping to his hands and knees in the sand and digging out manually.
All Julie wanted was to open the door and get inside. She thought she heard a frightened squawk on the road, but it sounded far away, as if from a dream. Digging out the sand was laborious, because they couldn’t just dig straight down, as the sand kept cascading down on top of them, so they had to remove nearly the entire dune.
It was dark by the time they were done. The nearly full moon shone down on them, and Marcus looked up at it, abruptly.
“We have to go inside,” he said slowly. He rubbed at his left eye absently, smearing the sand over his cheeks.
“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Julie said impatiently. She had lost her headband along the way, somewhere in the sand, and her curls kept falling into her eyes. She pushed them back impatiently.
“No. I mean it’s dangerous out here.” Marcus’ voice still held a dreamlike quality.
“Then stop sounding like a poet and start digging,” Julie said. “Never mind, I think we can try it now.”
The door was mostly in the shadows, but they could barely make out some designs: black on silver, showing the phases of the moon. Marcus reached out his hand and dragged his fingers along them.
“They were worshippers of Cotton,” he whispered.
“Cotton? Who the hell was Cotton?” Julie asked.
Marcus winced, turning his left side to her. “Before she was Morrigan, her name was Cotton. She was the moon who waited for Barris the sun god. But Kate — Kate got angry and burned down the city of Dauphin and killed Cotton, who was imprisoned there. The goddess burned, died, and was reborn. She was the goddess of the moon, but also death and vengeance.”
“Morrigan?” Julie had never heard this story.
Marcus nodded. “Kate felt like shit about that for a long time. Still does, I guess. But she didn’t know what she was doing.” His right eye focused on her, the left still twitching. “They were blinding kids, you know. They’d put a boy’s eye out in order to prepare him to be a priest.”
Julie had heard this part. She nodded. “Because Daniel was half blind.”
Marcus looked up at the moon again. “And now he’s there, seeing everything with his one eye. And he’s telling me to get the fuck inside.”
Julie blinked. “You sounds weird,” she said.
He reached past her for the handle. It was unlocked, and the door
swung inward.
Sand spilled into the hallway, making a shhhhh noise that echoed softly. “Let’s go.” She swiped absently at her face, dislodging some of the black sand that had accumulated there.
She led the way into the dark hallway, unable to make out anything but a few doors on the right and left, and a stairway at the end. She jumped when Marcus shut the door and cut off all the light.
“What are you doing? I haven’t found any light yet!” She spread her arms out to steady herself, and felt Marcus take her hand.
“I can see,” he said, and led her down the hall.
He ignored the doors on the top floor and led her toward the stairway. He guided her to the first step, but she balked. “No, wait. Where are we going? And how do you suddenly know how to get there?”
A loud groan sounded outside, and the ostriches gave another frightened squawk.
Julie swallowed. “Um, lead on, it’s probably safer in here.”
They must have gone down three flights, at least. Her breath was coming short and fast now, and her hand was clammy in Marcus’ warm grip. She experimented with closing her eyes tightly to see if she could see any better when she opened them, but the total darkness continued to plague. And still Marcus led with complete confidence.
He didn’t let go of her, but when they reached the bottom, he said, “We’re here. We’re safe now.”
“Where is here?” she asked. She sensed that the room was large and open, but nothing else. “Can we find some candles or anything?”
“I don’t need them,” Marcus said. “We’re safe, we’re alone. You can rest here.”
“Me? What are you going to do?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, but guided her to a corner. “Sit down,” he said. She complied. His cloak fell over her. “Get some rest. You’re safe. I promise.”
A finger trailed down her cheek, gently brushing away sand, and then he was gone.
• • •
&nbs
p; Julie couldn’t sleep. After her first few voiced complaints were ignored, she decided to just listen to Marcus’ movements in the darkness. It sounded like they were in a workshop, with hammering and scraping. But how could he see to do any work? And how could he be sure that the tools were still good?
She remembered a time her friend, Kellin, was working with a rusty tool he had found in a ruin, and it had broken and cut his thumb off. They had bound it as best they could, but he died in agony from an infection.
At some point, she finally dozed off, propped up against the wall.
When she awoke, her butt was numb and her lap was warm. Marcus had rested his head on her leg and fallen asleep.
“Why in all the worlds did he do that?” she muttered, and lifted his head and put it on the floor.
Then she realized she could see.
A faint light emanated from an unknown source, but she could see into the large, windowless bunker.
She had been right, it had been a workshop. But these tools were pristine as if they had been cared for and oiled these past several years. Clearly made before the Fall, they were intricate, with gears and jointed arms and bright green buttons.
Were these more relics?
She got up and stretched her legs, wincing at the stiffness.
She bent to stretch her legs and gasped when she looked down at her gown, which was glowing. No, she realized as she lifted the hem a few inches, she was glowing. The cut she had received during her escape was gone.
Her breath caught in her throat and she backed up, nearly stepping on Marcus, who grumbled and rolled over.
What is going on?
“It’s finally time for us to talk.” The voice that came out of her mouth was not her own, but an older, softer voice with a strange accent. “Also, that sand is coming in quite handy. It’s exactly what I needed to write through you, and now to speak through you.”
Julie couldn’t make her mouth work. Her mind was a whirl of panic.
“This morning you got interrupted before I could tell you the plan,” she said into the room. “Luckily, Daniel was able to tell Marcus what to do. But even I didn’t know the sand would retain so much power. I think we have a way to return some of the divine energy to the world. But that’s not the point now. It’s nice to meet you, Julie. My name is Kate.”
• • •
The goddess was speaking through her, with her mouth. Would it always be like this?
“No, I think you will get control of your body back at sundown. Right now is when I’m the most powerful; the sun is up, after all. Why do you think
Marcus was so busy last night? He could see in the dark, thanks to Daniel, and Daniel told him what to build.”
Julie’s head turned of its own accord and looked at the table where Marcus had clearly been busiest last night. Black sand was strewn everywhere, and in the middle of the table was a round piece of glass about a meter in diameter. It was smoky and imperfect, with bubbles here and there, and it was thicker at the top than the bottom.
“Yeah, it’s not perfect. But it was both of their first times making something like this. Cut them some slack,” Kate said. “Anyway, we think this sand is the portal to the Reach. It held much of the wild power that we lost at the Fall. Marcus’ thief’s cross is the key to opening it.”
And what then?
“We don’t know. We’ve never been there. Unfortunately that asshole
Amadeus may be right. The other gods might be there. And Daniel thinks it’s—well, never mind what he thinks.” The goddess fell silent, and Julie peered at the smoky round glass.
“But what is this?” she asked with her own mouth, surprised to have control again.
“It’s a lens,” a sleepy voice behind her said, and she turned to see Marcus rubbing his eyes. “Why’s it so dark in here?”
“You mean you can’t see anymore?” she asked. Then, in Kate’s voice, she said, “You’re channeling the god of the moon. You can see in the dark – at night. But that skill is useless to you during the day.”
“All this tech and they couldn’t put in a light?” he asked, cranky. “Is there any water?”
“Check the saddlebags. I think there’s some left.” Julie looked through the lens and squinted at the distorted view of the room. “What is this a lens for?”
“Hell if I know. Can we get out of here? This blackness creeps me out.”
Julie wanted to force him to stay there in the dark, not knowing what was going on, the way he had forced her to be last night, but that seemed too cruel. The boy had saved her from Meridian, after all.
She put the lens under her arm and picked up the saddlebags. “Take these,” she said, taking his hand and placing the bags into it. She took his free hand and led him out of the compound.
Marcus squinted at the bright sun, but Julie felt as if it were empowering her, not blinding her.
Marcus pawed at his face where black sand still stuck. “I feel disgusting.”
“I suppose you underwater types washed a lot?” Julie asked as they stumbled out of their little sandy hole.
“Well, of course,” he said, shaking sand from his hair. “Don’t you?”
She shrugged. “It’s less of a priority than finding food.” Still, she rubbed her hands over her face to try to dislodge some of the sand. “Don’t get rid of all of it, though. I think that’s what’s letting Kate and Daniel talk through us.”
He stopped and laughed once, a barking sound. “You say that like it’s
commonplace. ‘What’s new, Marcus?’ ‘I escaped a crazy murderous ritual killing, and then became a mouthpiece of a god. Not much. Thanks for asking.’”
Julie pursed her lips together, feeling the grit between them. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m mocking this,” he said, waving his hand around, indicating the black sand, the lens, and their disheveled appearance. “Instead of getting divine messages and power, the gods are encouraging us to burrow under the sand, and make glass.”
Kate looked into the distance toward Meridian. She had thought they had traveled far enough to leave the city behind them, but it seemed clear in the distance. She squinted and saw a cloud of dust.
“I think we should probably worry about that later,” she said, hitching the lens higher under her arm. “Someone’s coming.”
He looked in the same direction. “How do you know?” he asked.
“The sun is out,” Julie heard her voice say, and realized if the sun goddess was with her, she could see a fraction of what the sun could. “Come on.”
PART FOUR:
REACH
THE OSTRICHES WERE DEAD, covered with black sand, still tacky and thick with blood.
Marcus’s face fell when he saw them. “What did this?”
“Things still prowl up here, worse than pirates. Didn’t Daniel see what happened?” Julie asked, staring sadly at her mount, which she hadn’t had a chance to name.
“He didn’t tell me what happened if he did. I suppose that thing is more important,” Marcus said, gesturing to the great lens Julie still carried.
“We have the day to travel, and at least now we know what to do, sort of,” Julie said. She put her hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “Come on. It’s not going to help them for you to die too.”
She and Marcus divvied up their belongings and made their way north by the road.
“How did they follow us?” Marcus asked.
“Amadeus had more relics than we knew of, like the manacles, right? Who knows how he knows things? But right now we have to ask ourselves what you, or Daniel, rather, plan on doing with this thing.” She pointed to the lens, which Marcus now carried on his back.
“I was kind of hoping the god would tell us that,” he said. “Unfortunately, he’s quiet now.”
“I guess that’s because the moon has set.” Julie cocked her head, listening to the whisper in her head.
That’s it exactly.
“That’s what Kate says, anyway,” she
continued.
“Well, I hope we can last long enough for the moon to come back up,” Marcus said testily. “I don’t like only being useful for half the day.”
“You could try to figure it out yourself,” Julie said.
“Sure, because I can think as well as a god can, no problem at all,” he said.
“Gee, you’re unpleasant when you’re not driven by a god,” she said. “Let’s just get to the place safely and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
“Isn’t your goddess telling you what to do to smite Amadeus? Why didn’t she give you such practical information when you were locked up?” he asked.
“What is wrong with you?” Julie asked.
“My birds are dead, we’re being chased, and I don’t know what to do next even though gods are apparently talking through my mouth,” he snapped. He turned from her and fiddled with the leather straps holding the lens to his back.
Daniel had a temper, too, Kate said. Anyway, we can talk about that later. I’ll be stronger in your head as the sun rises, and we won’t need your mouth to talk.
Can you tell me what we’re going to be doing?
Daniel has plans with the lens and the sun. We won’t be able to wait for moonrise. I’ll let you know what you need to do. And as for why I didn’t talk to you earlier, I needed the conduit of the sand to get directly in your head. Someday I can tell you about my opinion of gods who always talk directly to mortals, but now’s not the time.
Julie shrugged mentally. She wasn’t one to argue with a deity, especially one who freed her from Amadeus.
She and Marcus trudged north, the black sand swirling and getting into their clothes and caking at the corners of their eyes and mouth. Eventually Marcus took a fine piece of cloth and wound it around his fair face, but Julie felt no discomfort from the sand or the sun. Every once in a while she would turn around to spot Amadeus, and always see the dust cloud a little closer. She blinked, the grit on her face making her feel more powerful instead of uncomfortable. Her fear drained away, and she felt new resolve, although part of her mind told her that was probably the goddess talking.
