A Mapwalker Trilogy

by J. F. Penn

  He led the group into the ruins of the souk, the old market where a maze of market stalls had once stood. They followed him, footsteps echoing under the medieval stone roofs. He turned briefly to check on them, his eyes darting to the willowy young woman with titian hair. She was new, he sensed it in her curiosity, the way she couldn't stop looking around her even as she stumbled over loose bricks on the ground. There was an innocence about her, and Finn wondered what the city looked like through her eyes. She turned and looked at him. He felt a jolt inside, as if she saw right to his heart.

  Finn walked on, but not before he realized that his father would want this young woman for himself. Her fragile Celtic beauty made her a prize, and he could trade her for sorely needed provisions. Together with the rest of the Mapwalkers, this group was worth a great deal, both to his father and to the Shadow Cartographers.

  A worthy trade for his sister.

  The young woman caught up to him, walking faster by his side. "I'm Sienna," she said, softly. "Can I ask what this place used to be?"

  "The markets," Finn said, his voice gruff. "Spices, meat, vegetables, fruit. But now …" He shrugged. "We do what we can. In the daytime, people sell what they have grown and one day perhaps this place will be fully alive again."

  Sienna smiled. "I hope so. I've been to the markets in Jerusalem – stalls piled high with peaches and pomegranates, the sweet smell of oranges in the air mingling with the yeast of freshly baked bread. Shoppers haggling for the best price and market traders calling out their best prices."

  Finn smiled as her words brought back memories of happier times. "There are markets like those in the outer villages where they grow produce on the hills, even though the soil is poor. I go there to trade and bring back what I can."

  "Can people who come over the border bring things with them?"

  Finn frowned as he looked over at her. "You don't know?"

  Mila caught up and took Sienna's arm, shooting her a warning look. "Sorry, she's new on our team. I haven't fully briefed her yet."

  Finn raised an eyebrow. Mila blushed, and the two dropped back to walk behind him, voices low. It was the first time he'd met a Mapwalker who hadn't been superior in both attitude and knowledge, someone with a real hunger to learn about this land.

  His land.

  Perhaps she would answer his questions about what life was like on Earth-side, a way to verify some of his father's more outlandish claims and what he had read in books. Because books did cross the border intact, unlike anything mechanical. Ancient magic kept out any technology created after the border was put in place, but books had become a form of currency, smuggled, traded, an addiction Finn had discovered early, even though the Shadow Cartographers banned them. He led the Mapwalkers on, weaving his way around the ruins, becoming lost in his own thoughts as he traversed the familiar path.

  For all his father's faults, the warlord had always encouraged Finn and his other children to read. He even kept some of the forbidden books in his citadel at the heart of Old Aleppo, seized in raids or smuggled in across the border. The smugglers knew to stop at the citadel first, or their goods would likely be seized anyway. Kosai liked fine clothes and sold much of it on at a profit but always kept the best for himself. Some would be given to his family, the women he favored at the time, and of course, to his children.

  His library contained works banned and banished on Earth-side, appearing in smoldering piles where they had been burned, popping through the border as their existence was denied. There were often intact volumes under the ash, their pages still readable.

  But books also brought darker knowledge. His father's favorite was Suetonius' Lives of the Caesars, and descriptions of things done to those who crossed the Emperor now found their way into Kosai's court. His father drew his sense of justice from the examples of tyrants, determined to paint himself as a demigod, as the Roman Emperors had once done.

  Kosai's faith had become stronger over time, and it had shown itself in the rule of fear. For those who doubt do not slaughter in the way that true believers do. Only those who believe in an absolute idea will kill in the name of it. It had been the Shadow Cartographers who showed Kosai the way of Moloch, resurrecting the ancient god so they could benefit from the fear he evoked.

  There had been a time when Finn adored his father, when they had gone on father-son hunting trips into the forests at the edge of the Borderland towards the Uncharted to find the giant boars roaming there. As a six-year-old, his father had taught him to use a knife for the first time. Finn remembered the weight of it in his hand, a bigger knife than he could handle, but his father said heavy blades would help him learn faster. Finn put his hand down, touching the pommel of his sword in a reflexive movement. Those early years had been hard, but his father had taught him well.

  Finn's mother had fallen through, brought here in a slave band and favored by the warlord for a time. She had died of an infection after the birth of another child and he scarcely remembered her face, although his skin color mirrored hers, rather than his father's Middle Eastern heritage.

  Growing up, Finn hadn't paid much attention to his siblings, leading his own pack of young warlord princes. Together, they raided the outer towns, patrolling the edge of the border, waiting for new people to be pushed through, then enslaving them, selling them on. His father claimed these new arrivals were not real people, that they didn't have any rights here. They had been pushed out from their home, and thus were ripe to be exploited.

  Isabel had been born when Finn was twelve, and he had never seen anyone so precious. He remembered holding her in his arms and promising he would never let anything happen to his little sister. Her blonde hair and fair skin were so different to his own, but the shape of their noses, the way they used their hands when they talked, and their love for books, bonded them.

  Finn would read to her in the library, smuggling pocketfuls of dried dates in, so they could both nibble on the sweetness as they read passages aloud. He had taught her to read early on and he had taught her to use a knife as well. His father didn't believe in teaching the girls, but Finn couldn't see why his sister shouldn't be able to protect herself. As she had reached her teens, he'd seen the way men looked at her. And how Kosai had looked at her too.

  Then one day, they came for her.

  Finn lashed out, fighting away the guards until five of them held him down. Her screams echoed as they bundled her into the back of a wagon and took her away to the castle of the Shadow Cartographers.

  The Resistance had come to Finn that night, as he walked through the streets of Old Aleppo down to the ancient library where he and Isabel had always found a haven. He paced in the darkness, thumping his fists against each other, unable to contain his anger. He decided to go after her, to track the wagon at first light, then bring her back or set her free.

  He had heard what happened at the castle. There were women who had come back, their eyes hollow, their bodies broken from birthing children who might have some usable magic, the Halbrasse, the half-breeds.

  Back then, a woman had stepped from the shadows. "I know what happened to your sister, but you can't stop them now. You will only die in your quest. There will only be more women taken, more children sacrificed. But if you stay, you have a chance to change things. Your father trusts you. You can be the eyes and ears of the Resistance inside his camp. If you hear of a raid, we can get there before you. If you hear of who will be targeted for sacrifice, we can spirit them away. And in time, we will help you save your sister."

  "I need to know when," Finn said. "I can't leave her there, knowing what will happen to her every day."

  The woman put a hand on his arm. "She is strong, as I was. I have told her how to end the life that might grow inside. There are pits outside the castle walls for the bodies of the children. The unborn or those who made it into the world briefly, those too mutated or too broken to live. Secrets written out of even this history. I knelt at the pit when I left that stinking place, I cried for the l
ife I lost, but it gave me a purpose. And if you join us, we can end the Halbrasse for good." She met his eyes.

  "The Resistance is working with Mapwalkers on Earth-side. There are those who want to make peace across our borders, those who want to release the hold of the Shadow Cartographers. They want to help us build the Borderlands into a place where life is worth living. We just need to throw off the yoke of oppression."

  Her words echoed inside Finn's heart. This was a quest worth joining, a cause worth championing. He couldn't be part of his father's bloody campaign any longer.

  He nodded. "Tell me what you want me to do."

  As Finn strode through the rubble of Old Aleppo, the team of Mapwalkers behind him, he remembered that night and the promise he would now fulfill. He was part of the Resistance, but he was going to get his sister, whatever it took.

  12

  Sienna tripped on a pile of rubble, cursing her clumsiness as she tried to catch up with the rangy Borderlander. Finn put his arm out to stop her falling, and she smiled up at him. "You said we were going to the Tophet. What is that?"

  Finn's face darkened. "It's not something I would want you to see, but it's the only way to get to the relics." He met her eyes, and she saw anger there. "The gods pushed into the Borderlands demand blood, and the darkest rituals you Earth-siders banished now exist here. Chaos suits a certain type of person. Unfortunately one of those people is my father."

  They walked out of the city, and the broken buildings soon gave way to the edge of a desert. The stars were high in the sky, and as Sienna looked up, she didn't recognize the constellations. It was a completely different view, as if the sky were inverted somehow. Finn led the way and as people passed on the road, many nodded at him, dipping their heads in respect.

  Mila came back to walk beside Sienna. "Finn walks a fine line. Not for us, but for his people. He has respect as the son of his father, one of the most powerful warlords and certainly the most bloody. But now he works with the Resistance."

  The sound of chanting came on a hot wind, a low rumble of voices repeating the name of a long-dead god.

  They reached a sacred precinct, a circular area ringed with stones, topped with tiny skulls. At first, Sienna thought they might be animal bones. Some were so tiny that she could curl her fist around them. But as she looked closer, she realized they were babies and young children. A sense of foreboding filled her as they walked on.

  In the center of the precinct, a crowd of people knelt in front of a large stone altar in the shape of the hungry god Moloch. His mouth was open to devour the sacrifice, and he held a basin of fire in his outstretched arms. The rhythmic chanting of the crowd grew stronger as a huge man walked forward, holding the wrist of a child of around four years old wearing a smiling mask.

  "The mask hides their tears from the god," Mila said, her voice low.

  The man dragged the child forward, and Sienna watched in rising horror, but they could do nothing as the place was surrounded by the warlord's men. They beat drums either side of the god to accompany the chants of the crowd.

  "Why do the people allow this?" She looked up at Finn, shaking her head.

  "They ask Moloch to grant them more than this life," he said. "They ask the god to break down the border. If you were trapped here in this hell, ruled by this tyrant, wouldn't you want that too? Besides, human sacrifice is a legacy from your Earth-side. Abraham was asked by God to sacrifice his own son, and in Homer's Iliad, King Agamemnon sacrifices his daughter Iphigenia for fair winds. Many of your ancient cultures had child sacrifice, and as it was banished, it ended up here."

  Finn pointed around the back of the crowd. "This way. My father keeps the relics nearby, ready to be blessed with the fresh blood of the sacrifice. We have a little time before it's done."

  They ducked down and ran around the edge of the crowd, keeping to the shadows amongst the grave markers. A small temple stood out the back of the main complex. Two guards stood in front of it. They nodded their heads at Finn's approach.

  "Stand aside," he said. "My father wishes me to take these pilgrims to the relics."

  One of the guards looked confused. "I'm sorry, my Lord, but your father said not to let anyone in here tonight."

  Finn stepped forward, pulling back his cloak to reveal a long sword at his side, the blade shining silver in the torchlight. "I'm not anyone."

  The guard nodded and stepped aside. Finn led the Mapwalkers into the stone chamber. Sculptures of the god surrounded an altar where a number of objects lay on a white cloth. A ceremonial fire burned in front of the altar and Perry walked to it, putting his hand in the flames. He turned his hand as if coaxing the fire into his palm. His eyes reflected the fire, and it was as if his skin became burnished copper.

  Mila walked to the altar. "These objects are considered relics, because they come from Earth-side. They have the energy of our civilization and act as anchors. Those Borderlanders with the right magic cross over using these objects. Do you recognize anything?"

  Sienna looked closely and for a moment, she thought her father's compass lay on the cloth in front of her. Her heart beat faster, but then, she saw it had different engravings. She picked it up to look more closely.

  Finn stepped close to her. "You can't touch it. Put it down." His voice was low and urgent. "The guards are watching, and we can't have them tell my father you were here. It jeopardizes my position."

  Mila looked up at him. "It's a Mapwalker compass. You know we can't leave it here. We're taking it with us."

  Finn's face turned to thunder. "You said you just wanted to look."

  "I did, but it belonged to one of the group we're looking for." Mila shook her head. "It's time, Finn. You have to decide which side you're on."

  The drums and chanting stopped. A single wail rose above the quiet, the piercing cry of a mother losing her child. The crowd roared as they celebrated the sacrifice. Sienna imagined the blood of the child shed for the hungry god, knowing it would never be enough.

  The sound of running feet suddenly came from outside, then shouts as more guards arrived. Mila looked at the door and then over at Finn. "Time to make your choice."

  Finn hesitated for a moment, then drew his sword.

  Xander took the folded map from his pocket, laid it on the floor. The lion, Asada, stepped from the page. He roared, charging forward as guards ran into the room, swords held high, some with crossbows at the ready, arrows nocked.

  Perry pulled his hand from the flame and threw a ball of fire at the guards. It exploded in the air above their heads, raining down shards of soot. The guards turned in pain, some of them on fire, running for the doorway. The lion leapt in with huge hooked paws, slicing at the guards nearest him.

  "We can't hold them for long," Mila shouted. "We need to get out of here."

  Sienna put the compass securely inside her jacket pocket, and they began to back away towards the far archway as Finn fought with the remaining guards.

  A booming voice echoed out across the temple. "You dare to cross the god of the Tophet, my son? You would let these Earth-bastards take my relics like they have stolen our land?"

  Finn turned towards his father's voice, momentarily distracted. One of the guards swooped in and slashed at him with a sword, drawing blood. Finn spun and with one sweep finished off the guard with a slice across his neck. He held his arm, blood running between his fingers, as the warlord spoke.

  "You're a traitor. If you stay, I'll forgive you. But if you go with them, I will hunt you all down and your skulls will ring the pit along with the other firstborn."

  Finn's face was set in a grim glare, his features carved from ebony. He took a deep breath, then turned and strode towards the Mapwalker team.

  Perry summoned new life into the fire, creating a wall of flame between them and their pursuers.

  "Asada, come." Xander put the map down and the lion leapt into it. Xander folded the scrap and put it back in his pocket.

  Finn took the lead, running down the corrid
or as he shouted back at the team. "We need to get back to the souk. We'll lose them in the labyrinth. I have friends in the Resistance who will get us out the city, but we have a long way to go tonight."

  They ran through narrow streets, surrounded on both sides by ruined buildings. Sounds of pursuit soon faded behind them. Finn ducked through the warren of tiny streets, turning left and right until Sienna wasn't sure which way they were going anymore, only that they had to trust this man who had turned against his father for them.

  The compass seemed to pulse in her pocket. It occurred to her that she could put her hand on it and transport the Mapwalkers somewhere else. But then she looked at Finn running ahead. He had risked his life for them, walked away from his father and his life. She took her hand away from the compass.

  Finn ducked into one of the many derelict houses, led them out the back and then down an underground passage. The walls dripped with water and smelled of rot and mold, the air chill. After walking for what seemed like too long in the cold darkness, they finally emerged into an ancient cistern. Two men and a woman greeted them, faces wrapped in scarves to cover their features, voices low as they talked in a language Sienna didn't recognize.

  Finn turned back to the Mapwalkers. "We can stay here for now, lie low and eat. We'll continue the journey after some rest."

  The woman brought them sleeping mats and a bowl of soup each. Mila took crackers from within her ration pack, handed them out, and they shared a meal together by the fire.

  Perry gazed into the flames, the reflection turning his eyes a golden hue. Sienna wondered what he saw there. Could he find a way out through the fire?

  Mila came and sat next to Sienna. "You still have the compass, right?"

  "Of course." She looked over the fire at Finn. He was whittling a tiny horse from acacia wood, his movements graceful and precise. "What did you promise Finn in exchange for his help?"