Pilgrim

by Sara Douglass

  Now free of Zared, who had entered and then crept to one side of the door, Drago stared at the sight before him.

  What had once been Leagh roiled at the end of its chains, a bare two paces from him. Its face had convulsed out of any resemblance to the woman who had once borne it, and its body was covered with sores and boils, scores of self-inflicted wounds and several layers of flaked excreta.

  Ribs and hip bones jutted at wild angles, while muscle and flesh had shrunk into deep valleys between them. Its hair was knotted and dark with grease, dirt and blood, its fingernails were torn and bleeding, and yellowed saliva hung down from its mouth. But all Faraday could stare at, all she could see, was the frightful sight of the distended belly.

  She was with child!

  “Zared,” Drago said, remarkably evenly, “that door in the far wall…does it connect to another chamber?”

  “What? Ah, yes. To the diamond chamber.”

  “Good. I want you to go and arrange for a bath, medicinal supplies and some well-watered wine to be placed in there.”

  “But—”

  “And then I want you to go and wait with Theod and Herme.”

  “I will not leave her!”

  In an instant Drago was on him, seizing both his shoulders. “Do as I say, Zared. For the gods’ sakes, do you want her to realise that you have seen her like this?”

  Zared stared. “I never thought…I didn’t…”

  “She might forgive the fact that Faraday and I have seen her,” Drago said more quietly. “But she will never, never, forgive you the sight of her in this condition.”

  “Help her, Drago. Help her,” he begged.

  Drago nodded, and gently shoved Zared out the door. “Go. Do as I ask.”

  He shut the door, paused to listen to Zared’s footsteps shuffle down the corridor, and turned back into the room.

  “We begin,” he said.

  He stood silent for a few minutes, his head down, his left hand gently opening and closing about the staff, ignoring the shriekings and slaverings of the creature lunging two paces away at the end of its chain.

  Faraday watched him silently, understanding that Drago was communicating with the staff in his hand.

  Katie? Faraday dropped her eyes, and placed a gentle hand on the girl’s head. Katie tilted her eyes up briefly, and smiled, but quickly returned her gaze to the scene before her.

  Faraday looked back to Drago. She understood that she was about to witness a miracle unparalleled. A miracle not only in Leagh’s own rebirth, and her redemption from the many-fingered madnesses of the TimeKeeper Demons, but in the rebirth of true hope for Tencendor.

  For the first time Faraday understood why Tencendor had to die. It was the only way it could be reborn into its true nature. Drago looked up, catching her eyes, and perhaps even understanding a little of what she was thinking. He smiled, a movement that only just touched the corners of his mouth and eyes, but which, nevertheless, was rich with warmth and love.

  Warmth and love for everyone, Faraday realised, not just for her.

  Faraday could not help smiling back. She realised she also smiled with love, but for the moment she could not stop it. He was so extraordinary, and what he was about to do was so extraordinary, Faraday could not help but respond to his warmth.

  She blinked, and the room had disappeared and she stood in a field of flowers. Drago still stood some paces from her, but here he wore nothing but a simple white linen cloth about his hips.

  He held out his hand to her in the traditional Icarii gesture of seduction, but it was not empty. He held a single white lily.

  “You will be,” he said, “the first among lilies.”

  And he smiled.

  Faraday’s heart was thudding in her chest, and she could not tear her eyes away from his. There was nothing in his face of his father’s arrogant confidence…nothing but that incredible warmth and tenderness, nothing but the promise of safety, and of the love she’d always been denied.

  Faraday took a step through the flowers, and then she—

  Two paces away the frightful thing that had once been Leagh snapped and drooled and dribbled thick urine down its thighs, and Faraday snapped out of her vision.

  She blinked, disorientated, her heart still thudding. Drago was no longer looking at her, but considering Leagh.

  “We will need to restrain her far more than she is now,” Drago said, studying the lengthy chain attached to the iron spike in the centre of the room.

  He snapped his fingers at the lizard, who was sitting to one side of the door, and spoke to Faraday.

  “Faraday? Will you take hold of Katie, and stand just here?”

  The lizard ambled over, and Drago positioned him just in front of Faraday and Katie.

  They were grouped directly in front of Leagh.

  “Take this,” Drago held out the staff to Faraday, who took it hesitantly, “and taunt her with it. Tease her. Keep her distracted.”

  “I cannot taunt her!” Faraday said.

  “You must,” Drago said gently. “I need to be able to wrap that chain about the spike, dragging her into the centre of the room, and to do that,” he paused, “with any degree of safety, I will need you, with Katie and the lizard, to distract her. Can you do that? The lizard will keep you safe.”

  “I am not worried about my safety,” Faraday said quietly, her eyes on Leagh.

  “I know that,” Drago said. “Come, taunt her with the staff, and stay but one pace before her. She will see nothing else.”

  Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, Faraday pushed Katie halfway behind her skirts, then leaned forward over the lizard and struck the Leagh-creature a glancing blow across the cheek.

  The creature screamed, and snatched wildly at the staff, which Faraday only barely managed to pull away in time.

  The lizard shrieked as well, its crest rising up and down rapidly, and the creature went completely berserk, tearing at its chains, and flinging itself full forward, as if trying to stretch the metal links.

  Drago moved quietly and smoothly about the side of the room until he was directly behind the creature, then he moved forward, step by careful step, until he was by the spike.

  The creature backed up a pace, preparing itself for another lunge at the three tormentors before it, and Drago seized the chain and wrapped it twice about the spike. The creature lunged forward, and found itself brought up a pace earlier than it had expected.

  It made no difference to the ferocity or single-mindedness of its attack, for the lizard and Faraday and the girl had also crept closer a pace, and the staff once more struck a glancing blow on the creature, this time across its back, drawing blood from one of its open sores.

  Again and again the creature lunged, and each time the chain slackened slightly as it moved and Drago would wrap the links yet further about the spike.

  Soon the creature’s buttocks and heels were a bare pace away from Drago and the spike, and Drago motioned Faraday to further her efforts at distracting the beast. Again Faraday struck a glancing blow to the creature, and again, and then once more.

  But on the third stroke the creature managed to seize the staff in its claws, and Faraday cried out as she felt herself being pulled forward.

  Suddenly there was a flash of light. The creature screamed, and Faraday felt its grip on the staff lessen. She hauled it back, and seized Katie, pulling her out of harm’s way as well.

  The lizard, retracting its talons, also shuffled back, hissing and growling at the creature, who kept its eyes on him, although it had been frightened away from further attempts to reach the horrible light-wielding lizard.

  Drago used the moment to secure the chain with the thong from the neck of the sack, then also retreated to a safe distance and rejoined Faraday.

  “Did she…?”

  Faraday shook her head. “She did not touch me.”

  “Good. Faraday, will you wait by the wall for the moment?”

  “Yes.” Faraday hesitated. “Dra
go…”

  “Yes?”

  Faraday stared at him, wanting to say everything, but unable to say anything.

  “Nothing,” she said, and took the girl’s hand and walked over to stand by the wall.

  Drago faced the creature, almost completely restrained by the now short chain. He placed his hand on the lizard’s head, and it sat down beside him, alternately looking up at Drago and over to the creature.

  “Faraday,” Drago said very quietly without looking at her, “what time of day is it?”

  Her eyes flickered towards the window. They had come across the Lake during Sheol’s mid-afternoon time, and had then spent at least two hours walking up through the palace and talking with Zared, Theod and Herme. “It lacks but an hour to dusk.”

  “Good,” Drago said. “We are free of the miasma, and the Demons will not know what now we do.”

  He bent slightly, and the lizard raised its head to him. “Watch carefully,” Drago told him.

  Then he straightened, and sketched a symbol in the air. It was not accomplished with his usual speed and fluidity, but it was fast nevertheless, and Faraday was sure that if Drago wanted the lizard to learn it, he must surely repeat it several times.

  But apparently not.

  The lizard watched with its great black eyes, absorbing the symbol into their depths, and then it raised a languid foreclaw into the air and redrew the symbol.

  With light.

  Faraday gasped, and the child laughed delightedly.

  The creature howled, and cowered.

  Lines of light hung in the air before the lizard. It had drawn a symbol variously composed of circles and three-dimensional pyramids, the lines of both circles and pyramids interconnecting in two score places.

  The symbol of light was large, perhaps the height of a man and the same dimension in width and depth.

  “It is an enchantment!” Faraday said.

  “Yes,” Drago replied, not taking his eyes from the symbol. “An enchantment made visible.

  “And,” he placed his staff on the floor, “an enchantment with walls.”

  Without apparent fear, or even overdue caution, Drago reached out with both hands and seized the enchantment. It quivered lightly as it felt his grasp, but floated gently towards him as he pulled his arms back.

  “Faraday?” Drago said. “Will you take hold of its other side?”

  Faraday walked slowly about Drago, and the lizard—which had dropped to the floor and had its head resting incuriously on its forelegs—and took hold of the enchantment directly across from Drago.

  It felt warm to her touch, and quivered softly with vibrant life.

  She laughed, and Drago grinned at her wonder. “Lift it a little higher,” he said, and together they raised it until their hands held it above their heads.

  “Now, take a step back,” Drago said, and as Faraday did this, so did he, and to Faraday’s amazement, the enchantment stretched.

  “And another,” Drago said, and so they stepped yet further back until, under Drago’s direction, they had stretched the enchantment to twice its former size.

  Through all this the enchantment held shape and dimension, and the lines of light did not seem to lose any of their thickness or vibrancy. The lizard blinked, pleased with itself. Katie had sunk to the floor, eyes wide with marvel.

  The creature had not stopped shrieking the entire time.

  Under Drago’s murmured instructions, Faraday helped him shift the enchantment until they held it high above the creature’s head.

  It was quiet with horror now, and cowered as close to the floor as it could get.

  “Let it go,” Drago murmured, and Faraday did so.

  The enchantment trembled, then slowly sank.

  The creature went completely wild, more than it had yet done. It howled and squealed, and threw itself about so violently that Faraday was sure it would manage to break every bone in its body.

  “Drago!” she cried.

  “Wait,” he said. “It will be all right soon.”

  And so it was, for within the space of two breaths the enchantment settled to the floor, pinning the creature inside its cage of light. The enchantment had now taken a circular three-dimensional form, and it rose in a series of spheres and pyramids above the creature.

  The creature was now still and completely silent.

  Faraday looked over the rising, pulsing lines of light towards Drago, her eyes wide with questions.

  He chose not to answer them.

  Instead, Drago slowly walked about the enchantment, as if considering it. As he walked, he reached inside his sack, and drew out the mixing bowl he’d taken from Sigholt’s kitchens.

  Faraday’s eyes, if possible, grew even wider. How had he got that bowl inside that tiny sack?

  Balancing the bowl in the crook of his left arm, Drago—still walking slowly about the enchantment—reached inside the sack again, and drew out what appeared to be tiny pinches of dust, which he sprinkled into the bowl.

  Faraday stepped back as he approached her, giving him room to move freely, and just watched.

  Again and again Drago’s hand dipped into the sack, always drawing forth what appeared to be nothing but pinches of dust. He continued to walk about the circle of the enchantment, his eyes never leaving it, until he had completed his circuit. Then he stopped, and stared into the bowl. His face was puzzled, as if he’d forgotten the recipe.

  “You need this,” Katie said, standing up and walking over to the lizard. She squatted down beside him, and gently lifted one of his claws.

  Then, with a swift, stunning movement, she plunged the tip of the claw into the pad of her forefinger.

  Faraday cried out softly and started forward, but Drago waved her away. Faraday halted, undecided, looking between first Katie, and then Drago.

  A fat, bright scarlet drop of blood glistened on the end of Katie’s forefinger. Slowly, and with the utmost caution and concentration, Katie rose and stepped over to Drago.

  Once there, she slowly raised her hand, careful not to spill the drop of blood prematurely, and then, once it hung over the bowl, let it roll down into the mixture with an audible sigh of relief.

  Drago stared at her with a mixture of awe and sadness, finally understanding what—or who—she was.

  “I thank you,” he whispered, and bowed slightly.

  “Nay,” Katie said, “it is I who will one day thank you.”

  She put her finger into her mouth and sucked it, and the wisdom in her eyes faded back to that of childish curiosity.

  Drago put the bowl on the floor, and retrieved his staff. Standing very straight, he dipped the end of the staff into the bowl and began to blend the mixture.

  His face was intense, every movement deliberate and almost part of a carefully rehearsed dance.

  Faraday blinked. Her senses were overwhelmed by the scent and sight of a vast plain of wildflowers, dancing in the wind even as they reached for the sun. Birds and butterflies dipped and swayed above the waving sea of blossom, and Faraday thought that in the distance she could hear the crashing waves of the ocean.

  All she wanted to do was to run through the flowers, run until she was exhausted, and then collapse wondrous within their midst, letting the beauty envelop her…

  She blinked again. The flowers had vanished, and the room was before her.

  Both Katie and the lizard were staring at her, but Faraday did not see them.

  All she saw was Drago…Drago now dipping the staff into the bowl, now withdrawing it glistening with a liquid Faraday could not identify, and tracing the end of the staff over the lines of the enchantment.

  Everywhere the glistening tip of the staff traced, flowed colour—every colour of the rainbow, until the entire enchantment glimmered and shifted with a thousand shades and permutations of colour. Overcome with its beauty, and the sheer beauty of Drago’s enchantment—had StarDrifter or Axis ever created anything so wondrous?—Faraday’s eyes glistened with tears.

  Drago
had finished with the enchantment. He raised the staff one more time, dipped it into the bowl, and then sharply struck the floor with its tip three times, and then twice more.

  The enchantment collapsed inwards. It fell over the creature, covering every pore of its skin, and then…then it slowly sank in.

  Faraday could understand it in no other terms. For an instant she’d thought the enchantment was evaporating, but then she’d realised it was actually sinking through the pores of the skin of—

  Leagh twisted over, and gave a hoarse cry of horror. She wrapped her arms about herself, and curled up to hide her nakedness.

  “Faraday!” Drago said, and Faraday swiftly knelt beside Leagh, gathering the woman into her arms, and hiding her face against her shoulder so that she should never see the pitiful state in which she’d been living.

  Drago strode over to the door that connected to the adjoining chamber, ordered out Zared and the two waiting women who stood there, and grabbed a blanket from the bed.

  He returned, and helped Faraday to wrap Leagh in the blanket.

  “Leave us,” Faraday said quietly, her arms tight about Leagh, and Drago nodded.

  He retrieved the bowl, slipping it back into the sack where it apparently disappeared without trace, picked up the staff, took Katie by the hand, and prodded the lizard with the toe of his boot.

  The outer door swung closed behind them, and Faraday lowered her face into Leagh’s filthy hair and wept.

  56

  The Field of Flowers

  Faraday sat there a very long time, holding the shivering woman in her arms, and weeping. Then she sniffed, wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and resolved to cry no more this day—this was a day for joy, not grief.

  It took some effort for Faraday to persuade Leagh to her feet, and even then she was weak and hardly able to walk. Finally, as they stumbled towards the adjoining chamber, Leagh found her voice.

  “Askam,” she croaked.

  “He betrayed you,” Faraday said, “and brought you to this.”

  “Why?” Leagh whispered. “Why, why, why?”

  Faraday did not know if she was asking why Askam had done this to her, or why she’d sunk to such a dreadful physical state. Having considered, and not known what to answer to either question, Faraday chose instead to remain silent, guiding Leagh towards a great tub of water that stood steaming before a leaping fire.