The Iron Ghost (3 page)

‘Offerings,’ said Sebastian. They were back on the deck in the cold dawn light. Wydrin was eating a lump of salted pork wrapped in yellowish bread. ‘Offerings to what though?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Wydrin around a mouthful of pork. ‘But I don’t like how they’re all facing the river.’

Frith came up onto the deck then, his brown face as narrow as a knife blade within his fur-lined hood. After a few moments a great black bird flew down from the morning skies and settled on his shoulder. He caught sight of them and came over reluctantly.

‘The captain says we will be within sight of Skaldshollow by the evening. We can travel on foot from there.’

‘It’s been a long journey,’ said Sebastian, keeping his voice neutral. Wydrin was picking pieces of crust from her bread and flicking them over the side.

‘Too long,’ said Frith. ‘I only hope that the journey halfway across Ede is worth the coin.’

‘Your castle will still be there when you get back, you know,’ said Wydrin. She held out a piece of the crust to the bird on Frith’s shoulder. It tipped its head to one side before snapping up the offering with its clever beak.

‘Unlike some people, I have responsibilities.’ The young lord looked away, his grey eyes stony. ‘It will not be far now.’

In the early afternoon, the boat stopped to pick up a new passenger. A short, rotund woman called Jayne hauled herself up and over the side, her full pack clanking and rattling as she came. She wore the rags and bags of a travelling tinker, and had a belt studded with hipflasks, which Wydrin soon discovered were filled with several varieties of rum. They quickly became friends.

‘So, what are these all about?’ Wydrin gestured at the statues as they shared a tipple that tasted like the bottom of a stove. The featureless grasslands had given away now to hills, the river weaving between them, but the grim river watchers were still there.

Jayne made a complicated gesture with her fingers, which Sebastian took to be a sign of protection.

‘Old things are rising,’ she said. Her voice was a croak, pickled by a long association with strong drink. ‘You must have heard the rumours, the stories?’

‘I’m a bit tired of rumours at the moment,’ said Wydrin.

‘There was a dragon, crawled out from under the stones in Creos.’ Her bushy grey eyebrows disappeared up into the mop of her hair. ‘And there was an army of green monsters.’

‘Ah, we might have heard those particular rumours.’ Sebastian cleared his throat.

‘Aye, well, the dragon might be gone now – I saw it go myself, falling into a hole in the sky – but it ain’t the only thing. I’ve heard tell of old stories coming to life all over. Dormant places that haven’t stirred in hundreds of years. The Singing Catacombs in Creos are filling the moonless nights with their music again, and the plains of Pathania are said to be haunted by strange lights.’ Jayne coughed a little, worn out by her own poetry. ‘These are strange times.’

‘You could say that,’ said Wydrin. Sebastian stifled a smile. ‘But what does that have to do with the statues?’

‘People are afraid.’ Jayne took her hipflask back and swallowed down a large gulp. ‘If the old gods are returning, maybe it’s time to bring back the old ways of worship.’ She lowered her voice. ‘It’s not so bad here. Here it’s flowers and grain and wholesome things. Out in the wilds of Briskenteeth and Tsold I’ve heard that the sacrifices are . . . fresher.’

‘That seems a little extreme.’ The hills were covered in trees now, and they passed tall pines and oaks on either side. It made everything a little darker, and in this cold land the light was already draining from the sky. It occurred to Sebastian that thieves could easily hide in those trees, and take a passing river boat with barely any fuss at all. He shifted, feeling the weight of his broadsword at his back. ‘What do they believe is coming for them?’

Jayne shrugged. ‘This land is full of magic, deep magic that goes right down into its bones. My ma used to say that the stones was haunted. That it was a natural place for ghosts. Some places are more magical than others, you know that?’

Sebastian nodded, thinking of what O’rin, the god of lies, had told them about magic. Edenier, the magic of the will, used by the mages and lately by one Lord Aaron Frith; and Edeian, the magic that was inherent in the soil and air of Ede. He had felt it too, down in the tunnels under Pinehold and in the Citadel itself, where the dragon had waited for them.

‘Strange places, yeah, there’s loads of them,’ said Wydrin.

‘And it’s been getting worse, too.’ Jayne fixed them with an ominous look. Sebastian suspected she used the same look when trying to shift a few bottles of ointment or a dubious good luck charm. ‘Ever since the dragon, the strange places have been getting stranger. And it’s like I said: this is a haunted land.’

It was dusk before the river took them out of the hills and the landscape opened up again, revealing the mountains, now impossibly close. Nestled at the bottom of the closest one was the city of Skaldshollow. The full moon hung over it like a wart, bloated and strange.

‘There it is,’ said Frith. He had stalked out onto deck as the sun set, apparently eager to see their destination. ‘A long journey, on a few words and a promise of gold.’

‘That’s how adventurers work, Frith.’ Wydrin smiled a little. ‘The copper promise. The fun is in finding the adventure as you go.’ Her smile faded. ‘Not that you’ll need to worry about that much longer.’

Sebastian cleared his throat and pointed. ‘It looks to be carved right into the bottom of the mountain. It must be a cold place.’

It was too dark to make out much, but Sebastian could see clusters of stone buildings and steep roads like scars leading up out of the settlement towards the mountain peak.

‘This entire land is too cold,’ said Wydrin. ‘Who would want to live in a place where it’s always winter?’

There were lights too, lights everywhere; red, orange, white and green. And a lot of them appeared to be moving. Lights, and the darker spaces behind them. Sebastian frowned.

‘Is it me,’ he asked, ‘or are parts of the mountain walking around?’

Next to him, Wydrin sighed. ‘But of course. We wouldn’t journey to any old
normal
city in the middle of nowhere. I wonder what weird crap is waiting for us this time?’

Sebastian shook his head. Looking at it made him think of his last journey with the brood sisters – a different mountain, not so long ago. The dangers there had been obvious, but he had been a fool. He turned away from the view.

‘We’d best get ready. We’ve a long journey ahead of us.’

A different mountain, not so long ago . . .

There were many secret paths through the god-peaks known only by the Order; sacred paths Sebastian had been shown as a novice, the act of walking each an expression of worship for their gods. He thought of them often as they travelled through the lakelands of Ynnsmouth: himself and forty-eight members of the brood army, all of them confused, frightened, and battle-weary, heading towards the sacred mountains. The daughters of the dragon were cautious, quiet, their strikingly beautiful faces turned to the ground as they walked. He could feel their disquiet in his own blood, and when he looked back at them he saw their yellow eyes narrowed against the last light of the day. It must be strange for them, he mused, to not have the vast shape of Y’Ruen flying above them, keeping watch. Now they had only him.

Once he had promised Gallo that he would show him the abandoned temple of Isu; now it seemed that he would walk the secret paths again after all, and with company he could never have imagined. If he earned the wrath of Isu and the other mountain gods, then he would deal with it as best he could.

‘We travel alone, Father?’

He turned to see Ephemeral at his elbow. She had scavenged a hooded cloak from somewhere so that her face was thrown into shadow, and in the failing light her green skin looked grey. Around them many of the remaining brood sisters wore similar garb, their golden armour and shining white hair hidden away as best they could. Beyond them, he could see the still mirror surface of Lake Cataloun, reflecting the mauve sky of twilight.

‘Who did you expect to come with us?’

She frowned slightly at his question. ‘Your sister-in-arms. The woman with red hair.’

Sebastian had to smile slightly at that. ‘Wydrin will visit us when we’re settled.’ He took a slow breath, wondering what ‘settled’ could possibly mean in circumstances like these. ‘She wants to catch up with her brother. She has a few debts to pay in that direction, I think.’

‘And the mage?’ Ephemeral’s voice was uncertain now. ‘He who . . . took our mother from us. Who banished Y’Ruen.’

‘I keep telling you, Ephemeral, we were all responsible for that.’

Ephemeral sniffed. ‘I do not like mages.’

‘I am not surprised.’ Sebastian stopped. Around them the brood sisters moved on, heading towards the mountains in the distance. They had been walking all day and not a single one showed any sign of tiring. ‘Ephemeral, in time you will come to know other humans, and eventually you will . . .’ he paused, struggling for the right words. Make friends? Forge relationships? ‘Eventually you will be able to interact with human beings every day, but right now we must keep ourselves separate.’

‘This is why we do not travel by the roads and paths that other people use,’ said Ephemeral, nodding slightly. ‘This is why we did not go into the city of Baneswatch.’

‘Yes,’ said Sebastian. ‘Visiting Baneswatch would have been a mistake.’

There was a flurry of noise from up ahead as two or three brood sisters suddenly ran off into the trees. Immediately Sebastian’s hand went to his sword.

‘What are they doing?’

Ephemeral blinked, watching them vanish into the shadows. ‘They are hunting, Father.’

‘Yes, but hunting what?’ Sebastian took a few steps forward, his heart beating thickly in his chest, but Ephemeral laid a clawed hand on his arm.

‘Deer, Father. They hunt deer. There are so many in this forest, can you not smell them?’

Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and shook his head. ‘No, I – No, I don’t smell them.’

When the light had vanished completely from the sky they made camp where the trees were thickest. The brood sisters who had gone hunting returned with two young deer, four fat rabbits, and a portly looking snow grouse, its white feathers now stained scarlet. Crocus, one of the hunters, threw her deer down by their small fire, a look of extreme satisfaction on her face.

‘It ran, but I was too fast for it.’

Her sisters nodded approvingly, and two of them moved forward, claws ready to disembowel the animal. Sebastian, remembering all too clearly the gore and mess of their previous meals, stepped in to intercept them.

‘Indulge me for a moment,’ he said, pulling the skinning knife from his belt. ‘How about we cook our meat first this time?’

There were a few faces pulled over that, and Crocus crossed her arms over her chest, her brow furrowed.

‘The meat will be ruined.’

One of the other brood sisters stepped forward. She was shorter than Crocus by perhaps an inch, her white hair hanging loose against her cheeks. In the days since Baneswatch, Sebastian had done his best to learn each of the brood sisters’ newly chosen names, but this one still referred to herself as the Second.

‘We cannot eat the flesh while it is alive. Now we cannot eat the flesh without burning it first?’

‘Mother would often burn it,’ pointed out Ephemeral in a reasonable tone of voice. ‘We have all eaten burnt flesh.’

Sebastian held up the hand not holding the knife. ‘Not burnt, merely cooked. You might like it. And, you see, we can use this animal’s skin for clothes, its fats for ointments. If we tear it all to bits, then you will only get this one thing from it. Using all the parts of what you hunt – this is one of the things I will teach you. In the mountains.’

The one called the Second frowned. ‘When you make us your Ynnsmouth knights?’

‘No,’ said Sebastian. He took a slow breath, thinking of the globe of blue glass in his pocket. ‘But I will show you what is useful to know.’

This hunger was new to them. They had eaten before, of course – Sebastian didn’t like to dwell too long on what they had eaten before – but from what Ephemeral had told him, Y’Ruen had sustained them simply by being there. The flesh and blood they had eaten, torn often from victims who were still alive, had been for enjoyment only. They could have marched for months with nothing in their bellies, surviving on the nurturing presence of Y’Ruen alone. Now that she was gone they were experiencing real hunger for the first time, and like children, it was something that troubled them incessantly.

‘This will take too long,’ said Crocus. She stood over Sebastian as he quickly skinned the deer carcass. ‘I am hungry now.’

‘I am also hungry now.’ This was Toast, a brood sister who looked curiously younger than the others. Ephemeral had told him that she had been the Eight Hundred and Forty Second, back in the birthing pits. ‘I am so hungry it hurts.’

‘Patience will be something else I will teach you about in the mountains.’ It wasn’t easy in the light from their small fire, but Sebastian deftly separated flesh from pelt, and spitted the animal quickly. There was some blood, and for a strange moment he found he could not quite look away from the red smears on his hands.
It is the remnants of the demon
, he told himself firmly.
A demon that I have long since left behind.

‘Here.’ He lay the carcass across the fire, and rubbed his hands on his cloak. ‘Soon it will be cooked, and you will be able to smell it.’

‘How soon?’ said Toast, her wide yellow eyes riveted to the bloody meat.

‘Soon enough. Here, turn this.’ Sebastian gave her the end of the stick. ‘Keep turning it over, but slowly, so that it cooks on all sides.’

‘It is a waste of meat,’ said the Second, already eyeing up the deer and rabbits still to be skinned. ‘I could be full by now. We could all be full by now.’

‘Trust me,’ said Sebastian. He met her eyes steadily. ‘A lot of what I show you will not make sense to begin with, but I can help you to live in this world. As a part of this world.’