by Amy Hopkins
They wove down into the valley in a single file. The trees down here were a different species from those that grew through most of Irth. Stark, white trunks stretched so far overhead they couldn’t see the tips, while branches spread out to the sides and dropped pine-scented needles to the forest floor.
Julianne reached out and trailed her fingers along a nearby branch. She sniffed it gingerly, and screwed up her face. Yes, it was the trees that smelled. Instead of fresh and clean, the pine here had a sharp, coppery odor.
“They say the smell is from all the blood the trees have soaked up, remnant and our people alike,” Marcus called from behind.
“Every place has its ghost story.” Julianne glanced over her shoulder, but quickly jerked her head back as her horse nosed around a bend in the trail. “Is it all like this?” she asked.
“No,” Marcus replied. “Just wait. You’ll see.”
He wouldn’t elaborate, and Julianne let him have his secrets. Delving into his mind during this part of the journey would be foolhardy. She needed every ounce of concentration she had to navigate her horse down the winding path and keep her from placing a foot wrong on the twisted roots below. Finally, the forest thinned out, and Julianne gaped at the sight before her.
The trail emerged into a valley scattered with old ruins. Buildings jutted out of the low-lying greenery. Some had crumbled to almost nothing, others stood tall in some semblance of the dignity they’d once had. Vines and creepers snuck through cracks and chasms, and trees stretched up from windows turned askew by failing foundations.
Julianne shuddered as she wondered what Arcadia or even the Temple would look like decades after the humans had left.
“What’s that?” Bastian sent Julianne the image of what he was seeing, and she swung her head around to look. By the path ahead, a sculpture of twisted metal jutted out of the thick trunk of a tree.
“Ancient ruins,” Marcus explained. “My old commander said the tree must have grown into the metal, and around it.”
Julianne rode past slowly, unable to tear her eyes away from it. It wasn’t until a gasp from Bette that she focused on what lay ahead.
“What in the Bitch’s name is that thing?” Bette had stopped, heedless of Garrett almost plowing into her.
“What yer… oh! Well, that’s a damn sight.” Garrett craned his head back, and Julianne jumped into his mind to get a better look.
Ahead, a tall building, crumbled away on one side, sparkled in the early morning sun. Clean surfaces reflected the daylight, sending scattered sparkles over the ground
“A sight she is, alright,” Marcus murmured. He’d moved up beside Julianne, but when she cleared her vision and glanced over at him, he was staring at her. He quickly looked away, smothering a small smile. “A nest of remnant used to live in the lower levels. We’ll get a good look, but not up close. My unit cleared them out of there twice, but there’s no telling if they’ve returned.”
“How does it sparkle?” Julianne asked as they moved on.
“Not sure what it’s made of. Some kind of glass maybe? I don’t see how glass could hold up a whole building, but the ancients did a lot of weird stuff like that.” Marcus ushered them along, reluctant to stop.
“Maybe it’s just a coating?” Bastian suggested, craning his neck as his horse ambled on, oblivious to the wonders around them.
“Maybe. The lower levels are covered in plant growth, but for some reason it never really climbed to the top. Too slippery, maybe. There’s some mold coating the higher levels, but it grows in clumps and washes away in heavy rain, leaving it… well, like that.” Marcus craned his neck to take in the massive structure.
Julianne thought back to the storm that had hit the Temple the night Donna had shown up. Strange, how one little weather event could not only accompany such disaster, but create such beauty.
Deeper in the valley, more crumbling walls appeared. The paths between them were strangely flat, as though the roots of more substantial trees couldn’t penetrate the ground. They rode quietly, not speaking, through the warped shadows of a city long forgotten by its people.
Julianne’s skin crawled even as she admired the beauty. Sunlight sparkled through leaves, touching old stone and rusted, metal carcasses. Overhead, a crow called, the only sign of wildlife they’d seen since beginning their descent.
“Come on, you lot,” Danil said nervously. “Kind of hard to see where I’m going with you all jumping at shadows. You’re all giving me the creeps.”
“Toughen up, lad,” Garrett said, his voice wobbly.
“Me?” Forgetting himself, Danil’s voice carried loudly, bouncing off the structures around them. “You’re the worst of them all.”
“Hush,” Julianne admonished.
“Easy for you to say,” Danil muttered. “You’re stone cold, Jules. How are you not crapping your pants down here?”
She laughed nervously. “I am. I’m just doing it behind a damn good shield.”
Danil blew out a breath, trying to shake off the oppressive sense of danger that leaked through the shadows around them. Marcus led them through the old city, steering them away from more substantial buildings in favor of those that had worn away almost to nothing.
They reached an open area, and Marcus nudged them on faster. “Come on. Sooner we’re out of this place, the better.”
“Why? Won’t it be worse—” Julianne cut off with a scream as something skittered through the leaves, sending her horse into a terrified frenzy. It reared up, then struck the ground with its hooves. The crunch echoed loudly as the other horses whinnied and danced.
Then, the city swallowed them.
The ground split apart, and rocks tumbled into the dark cavern as the horses scrambled for purchase on the sliding stone ground.
Julianne heard someone scream, but she wasn’t sure who. She gripped her horse but couldn’t hold on and when they fell, Cloud Dancer skidded and toppled, landing on her mistress as the dust settled. The horse kicked and jerked, and her great head connected with Julianne’s skull.
A light above bobbed, flickered, and went out.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Jules? Jules, you need to wake up. Now, Jules. You don’t have time to rest. Jules, wake up, Jules.
Go away! She mentally shouted the words even as consciousness returned. Julianne sucked in a breath, then coughed out a lungful of dust as needles of pain stabbed at her head.
Hands helped her to sit. “It’s ok, Jules. I’m sorry. You needed to wake up.” Danil’s voice murmured in her ear, voice soothing as his thoughts inside her head were not.
She briefly felt his weight in her mind, checking she was coherent and remembered the moments before the impact.
Danil’s prodding was standard protocol—after a concussion, a person needed rest, but could be woken if it wasn't safe to do so. Julianne would pay for it later, but for now, the ache in her head was bearable and they needed to get out of here, wherever ‘here’ was.
“Everyone ok?” she asked, voice hoarse. She blinked the grit from her eyes and found she could see. Light filtered through a hole above their heads, though her eyes didn’t want to adjust enough to see into the surrounding shadows.
“Looks like we all survived. Horses are all standing, but we won't know if they're lame until we get out of this hole.” Garrett plunged into the shadows. “What is this place?”
“Some kind of ancient, underground building.” Marcus kicked at some rubbish by his feet. “I've heard tales of them, but never seen one.”
Danil helped Julianne to stand, letting go once she’d assured him her balance was fine. She picked her way over the fallen stone from above and looked around the cavernous space.
Dust coated every surface, obscuring any clue as to what the area once served as. Shadows in the dark corners outlined benches, and the floor was scattered with smaller objects. Julianne kneeled down to inspect one.
She picked it up and rolled it in her hand. It was cold and round, with blunt ends.
"What's that?" Bastian's sudden question startled her and she dropped her prize. It smashed, shattering on the hard floor and splashing putrid liquid all over her skirt.
"Shit.” A foul odor reached Julianne's nose. "Ugh, that smell is hideous." She backed away and found Marcus pulling things from a wall.
"Might have been food. Maybe this was a storehouse of some kind." He shook the box in his hand and it rustled. "Either way, we need to get moving. The noise from the cave-in probably attracted attention, and we don't want to be fighting from the lower ground if we can help it.”
A quick examination showed that the roof had fallen in such a way that the horses, if led carefully, should be able to climb out.
"We risk hurting them more, dragging them up that rubbish," Bette pointed out.
"If we leave them here, they'll end up dinner for a local remnant pack," Marcus said.
Bette shuddered and grabbed her horse's halter. "Best be quick about it, then."
The beasts seemed as eager to leave the eerie, forgotten room as their riders did. Within a short time, all six of them stood in the bright sunlight again beside the hole from the cave-in.
Marcus reached up to grasp the pommel of his saddle. Then, all hell broke loose.
Julianne stifled a scream as two remnant descended on them.
“Dinner coming to us tonight?” a voice growled as they sprang out from behind a shattered wall.
The rag-clad men dove towards them wielding heavy, barbed clubs. Julianne yanked Bastian backwards, just in time for a weapon to go sailing past his nose.
His horse screamed and reared up, smashing the remnant with her hooves. The feral man dove to the ground and stabbed up with his spear, heedless of the frantic animal trying to clobber him to death.
Julianne ripped her short walking staff free from her pack and stabbed it forwards. Her target skittered backwards, out of reach, then lunged forwards to grab the end of it. Julianne's guard training took over, and she whipped it out of reach, then swung it back to connect with the remnant's bony ribs.
"Behind!" Garrett hollered as Marcus stepped in front of her.
The young soldier swung his weapon upwards, and the remnant jerked back, guts spilling onto the ground. The beast's mouth hung open as he stared, eyes wide, before crumbling to the ground.
Retching from a smell so much worse than what had soaked her dress, Julianne almost missed the next attack. A remnant launched for Marcus, whose weapon was still recharging. He whipped a knife up, slicing the remnant’s belly open. Snapping up with his fist, he then stabbed at the beast’s throat. The remnant collapsed in a gurgle of bloody bubbles.
In the few seconds Marcus had taken to fight, more had appeared. Garrett and Bette circled a remnant that was armed with a short sword. Another crept towards Danil from behind.
Danil caught the view in Julianne's mind and dropped to the ground as it swung for his head. He rolled on his back and kicked, his legs caught in his traditional robes. Julianne dove for them, cracked her staff over the remnant's head hard enough to make the wood tremble in her hands.
It didn't fall. If anything, the attack enraged it, sending it into a frenzy. A frenzy directed at Julianne. It stared her down, mucous gathered in one corner of its eye, blistering pustules weeping around it. It took a step towards her. She took one back, fumbling at her belt for the small knife she carried.
“Bitch. You die!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It leapt. The frail, scabbed body pressed against Julianne as it gnashed its teeth, trying to bite her face. Teeth sank into her arm and she screamed, slashing forwards with her tiny weapon.
“You’ll make a nice dinner, bitch,” the remnant spat, Julianne’s blood on its chin.
“This dinner bites back,” she said through bared teeth.
Julianne stabbed an eye, the sickening pop almost as awful as the clear fluid that ran down and splashed her face. The remnant didn't react, except to struggle harder against the arm Julianne had thrown up to protect her vulnerable throat.
Jerking the knife free she thrust again, piercing the side of the face, then again at the ear. This time, she hit her mark, shoving the blade deep into the creature's head.
It spasmed.
“Dinner bitch… bites.” Coughing once, a barrage of chunky saliva and mucous coming along with it, the beast collapsed on top of her, the dead weight squeezing the breath from her lungs.
Heaving, Julianne kicked and shoved until the body rolled off.
Julianne forced herself up to her knees, shaking. She looked up to see Marcus kicking the fallen body of a remnant. Bette and Garrett were wiping their weapons clean and Bastian stood, staring at his Master, face pale and body trembling.
"Bitch’s britches, Jules. I know you learned to fight a bit in Arcadia, but I didn't know you could do that." Danil's eyes were as wide as Bastian’s.
"We—I should have helped. I'm sorry, Master, I didn't—" Bastian began.
Julianne cut off Bastian's stammered apology. "You weren't trained for this. None of us were, really. That's why we brought them." She jerked her head at Marcus and the rearick. The soldier dipped his head with a wry smile.
"She's right." Marcus stepped forwards smoothly, taking Bastian's shoulders. "But perhaps we should change that before we go too much further. I can't teach you to fight, but I can give you some basic skills to give you half a chance." He looked down at Julianne’s soiled clothes and wrinkled his nose. “With any luck, that stink will scare away anything else till we get through the city proper.”
“I'm half tempted to strip it off and leave it,” she said without thinking.
“I never thought I'd see him speechless,” Garrett said with a snigger. Julianne looked at Marcus, realizing what she'd said.
He was red, lips pressed together as he tried to restrain himself. He failed, bursting into laughter that wasn't at all muffled by the fist he shoved in his mouth.
"Is it safer once we pass through?" Danil asked when Marcus had himself under control. The blind mystic smothered a grin, but didn't comment on Julianne's proposal.
"Aye," Bette spoke up. "That is, if what I heard was correct?"
Marcus nodded an affirmative. "Come on. Sorry, Jules, no time to stop. You'll just have to keep your clothes on… but maybe walk downwind of the rest of us?" He winked, ignoring her furious scowl. "Once we're far enough away from this mess we can stop to regroup, but we'll be in remnant territory for a few days."
Julianne looked at her horse. Cloud Dancer seemed to sense her intent and shuffled away. Julianne gently pulled her harness until she was eye to eye with the beast. "Listen here, horse. I don't like this any more than you do, but Bitch be damned if I'm going to extend this any longer by going on foot."
Cloud Dancer snorted and rolled her eyes.
Bette stepped up to her. “Aye, pretty Cloud. Don’t ye listen to this one. Now, you be a good pony and let the Master hop up, aye?” Bette patted the horse’s nose and Julianne took the opportunity to mount up. The horse tensed, but allowed her to keep her seat.
“I told ye,” Bette lectured, “She needs a name, and ye need to use it. She’ll be much more polite if ye do.”
Julianne rolled her eyes, trying not to wonder if she looked like Cloud Dancer while doing it. She nudged the horse with her knees and the party set off, now trying to avoid both large, empty areas and the dense greenery at the edges of the roads.
“The sooner we’re out of this bloody ghost city, the better,” Garrett mumbled.
By mid-afternoon, the cluster of tumbled-down buildings had turned into twisted forest with only occasional broken stones and rusted metal bars as evidence people had once lived there. They passed two abandoned hovels, evidenced by dried, chewed bones and burnt out campfires. Other things, like trinkets and fabric scraps scattered the areas, lying tossed aside with little care.
Julianne nursed her aching head, avoiding magic use for now. It hadn’t even occurred to her to use it during the
attack—not just because of the sudden appearance of the remnant, but because she’d always been told they were like animals.
Mental magic only worked on humans, unlike druidic magic, which worked on animals and not people. Remnant were somewhere in between, descended from human ancestors who were lost to the madness that swept the world.
The Founder stopped its spread, but couldn’t save those already beyond redemption. Hence, the remnant were born. Julianne knew from notes in the Temple that mystics couldn’t access a remnant mind like a human one, but those notes were old and disjointed and only contained the little knowledge that was gained by those mystics that were brave enough to enter the Madlands.
She thought on that. If Druids had been able to affect a remnant’s mind, surely she’d have heard of it?
Academic curiosity didn’t trump common sense. If the chance to find out first hand if she could enter a remnant’s mind never came, she wouldn’t complain. Still, if a crisis occurred and it was their only way out… Julianne shuddered.
Delving into someone’s mind, seeing their thoughts and feelings, was a personal act. Living in the head of one of those beasts, even for a moment, was something she could do without.
How are you feeling? Danil interrupted her train of thought, bringing Julianne back to the present.
Fine, she replied. Just a little sore.
Is it safe to be moving about, Master? Bastian asked. When I trained with Melody, she said waking a concussed person should only be done as a last resort. What if you relapse?
It’s ok, Julianne sent to him. She glanced over with a reassuring smile. As you develop your skill in reaching into other minds, you grow to know your own better, too. You will learn your limits and recognize impairments with precision.
“How long until we make camp?” Oblivious to the mental conversation going on around him, Garrett called from the back of the line to Marcus, at the front.
“Getting tired, old man?” Marcus asked.