The Second Coming (7 page)

“
How far did you say it is?” Miguel asked.

“
Five days on horse. The next village should be half a day's
journey. We can purchase horses there.” He paused. “I'm sorry you
were asked to endure this, brother. If you wish to depart, I would
not blame you.”

Indignation
settled into Miguel's thin, pursed lips. He whistled even harder
through his nose.

“
I have been given this task and I will see it through,
brother. Besides, I am curious as to where this will lead. Can you
share with me what we are looking for?”

“
How much do you know?”

“
I know only that we are meant to get to
Barcelona.”

He envied the
fat friar his ignorance. John remembered when the visions had come
to him, and when the Virgin had shown things that had changed
everything. His life was forever altered with that nibble from the
Forbidden Fruit, a bite he wished he had never tasted.

And now they
were on a mission to find the very thing he had long hoped to
avoid.

And not just find him,
he
thought
. How in the seven hells am I
supposed to get close enough to kill him?

“
Then live with that knowledge for now and give
thanks.”

Miguel
shrugged and rose, gripping a low hanging branch for support.

“
I am ready to move on again.”

John nodded,
placed his burden on his clammy back, and the two strode out of the
shade.

***

Paine was not
an early riser, so dawn was an affair of mumbled curses. He would
have slept longer, but his bladder was so full he could almost
taste the piss. He groaned, stiff and sore from travel, not to
mention a night of restlessness. When Fang had returned from
whatever foray she had taken into the thicket, she had spent the
remainder of the night kicking him in the chest, ruining any chance
of recovering from his encounter with Lya. Paine rubbed his aching
ribs.

The wolf
grinned at him, licking him on the face as she rose and then
stretched her nimble form. Her tongue reeked of things
unmentionable and he wiped it from his face. Lya was already awake,
and her dark mood had subsided.

“
Good morning,” she said. Her chipper greeting was
feigned.

“
Morning,” he replied, eying her with care. He said nothing
about the night, not wanting to appear divisive in front of
Diarmuid, and then relieved himself in the shrubs.

The morning
passed without much incident. The travel was light and comfortably
quiet by the time they reached the outskirts of the next village.
Paine and Lya waited for Diarmuid while the latter went in for
supplies. Diarmuid was unsure how far the Confederation’s reach now
stretched, and after passing a makeshift gallows and a tree with
three sawed off nooses swaying in the breeze, they agreed it would
be safer if the two of them weren't seen.

Fang remained
with them.

Now alone,
Paine considered raising his concerns about the previous night but
clamped his mouth. It was not worth the battle. He would wait until
the moment was right. But he needed to kill time and the tension
between them was palpable.

“
Now that Diarmuid's not here, why don't you ask Fang why she
left her pack?”

The wolf’s
ears pricked.

“
Why don’t you?” Lya asked. “You seem to have all kinds of
hidden talents you haven’t told me about.”

He paused.
“What are you talking about?”

“
You know what I’m talking about.”

Paine remained
silent.

Lya walked
over to him. There was a forced sureness in her stride, an anger to
the click of her boots upon the ground.

“
How did you command seven souls to do your bidding at once?”
she asked, circling him. “How did you summon them without blood?
And how come that fucking silver cross didn’t stop you?” She poked
him in the chest. It hurt. “It stopped my curses, why not your
summons? What else have you learned that you haven’t told me?” She
was starting to shriek. Her eyes were wild.

Is that what’s
eating at her?

“
You think I’m hiding something from you?”

“
Aren’t you?”

Paine shook
his head. “I was willing to pay the price for the summons and they
took nothing from me. I thought I would go mad. Perhaps enough
blood had already been spilled, but I won’t risk doing it again.”
He clenched his fists and faced her. “You care to share what you
were up to last night?”

“
I was dancing.”

“
After that.”

She
hesitated.

Something was
brewing in that mind of hers.

“
Trying to sense if those souls you summoned were still inside
you.”

“
That’s all?

“
Yes.”

Paine said
nothing.

She smiled,
again contrived. “I forgive you.” Her voice was now honey and
sunshine and she plopped in front of Fang.

Forgive? Maybe
not brewing; more like fermenting.

Lya held out
her hands to let the wolf smell her. She then scratched her behind
the ears and leaned into her face. The whole process took time, his
sister obviously not wanting to force herself upon something that
might tear a piece of flesh from her.

Paine fidgeted
where he sat. He blocked out his concerns of whether Lya had lied
to him. He couldn’t deal with that now. He would learn the
truth.

All in time
.

As for Fang,
he wondered why a wolf would leave her pack for a human. It didn’t
make sense. There had to be a reason. And getting the answer was
taking far too long for Paine’s liking.

Lya told him
more than once that conversing with animals worked differently.
They communicated in vision, smell and instinct. It would take
time. Paine understood, but it was little consolation. His
curiosity itched, and he needed to scratch.

After a time,
Fang growled, low at first and then rising in volume. Lya
paused.

“
What's going on?” Paine whispered.

She held up
her hand to him, her eyes never leaving the wolf. The snarling
became throatier. The wolf turned her head towards Paine and then
glared into the forest, her rumbling rising once more. Paine
followed Fang’s gaze into the trees.

He rose.

Fang fell
quiet, watching the dense brush that coated the forest. Lya
crouched and edged forward with the wolf. A presence lurked in the
trees. Paine could feel it. He could sense it watching them.

He stepped
forward to check, but then, as if nothing had ever been there, Fang
stopped. The silence of the forest vanished and the birdsong
returned. The presence, or whatever it was, was now gone.

“
What was that?” he asked. He reached for the flask of water
at his side. Burning apple edged its way up his gullet.

“
I don't know,” Lya whispered, “but I could sense it. It was
studying us.”

He gargled and
spat. “Does Fang know?”

“
I doubt it. And I got nothing from her. It’s like trying to
communicate with that stupid cow.”

They strode
over to the brush for a look, Paine holding a heavy stick as a
weapon. They inched forward, careful not to move too swiftly. Lya’s
dagger was sheathed and she crawled behind Paine on all fours. With
care he pulled back the branches and jumped when a small bird flew
out of the bush. His heart raced and he nearly screamed. As it
fluttered about them and then flew off, Paine paused. In the mud
were etched mangled hoofprints. He supposed it was from their own
horses because there were no other signs anyone had been there, and
they certainly would have seen a person on horseback.

At least someone on horseback who was still
alive
.

That thought
made his stomach turn a little.

Paine broke
the silence as they wandered back to where Fang lay in the
clearing.

“
I wonder if the Witch Hunters are following us.”

Lya said
nothing, but they sat close to each other, watching the trees for
anything. Living or not.

When Diarmuid
returned he examined the vicinity as well, but found nothing to add
to their own observations. As a precaution, they kept a closer
vigil as they rode.

They continued
north along a road that still favored a westerly tangent; the wind
that blew from that direction smelled thick of something cold and
unsavory. It worsened with every mile. Eventually they came upon a
hamlet, or that’s what Paine thought to call it. It was too small
to be anything else; the paltry buildings and homes would hardly
have warranted such a grand title as village.

It seemed
abandoned with its doors closed and windows boarded up, yet there
was a trickle of life. A few people walked the streets, but their
pace was far from casual and their glances were furtive. Those who
ventured into the streets would hasten from one building to
another, pounding on a reinforced door. It would open a crack, and
an arm would yank the person inside before slamming closed.

Diarmuid
inquired about a place to stay.

His response
was swift and without apology — there was nowhere to put them up
for the night.

No room at the
inn.

As they
approached one of the buildings, he caught some muttered talk on
the other side of a poorly shuttered window.

“
Last night Emma saw a serpent drinking from the cow’s teat,”
said a voice.

“
Vile!” responded another.

They went on
to blather about snakes crawling down the mouths of babes,
suffocating them in their sleep; the oak trees in the grove
bleeding from their stumps; and young women disappearing before
their wedding day — some never returning and others being found
three days later, naked and branded with the symbol of a goat.

“
Those women, they had no memory left. They didn’t even
recognize their own mothers,” shrieked the first voice.

She was hushed
and then talk of the Confederation’s salvation was whispered. Paine
slipped from the window’s edge.

A stalk of a
man named Clem was willing to speak with the travelers. He informed
them the village elders would be speaking with the Confederation
representatives in a week. The three said nothing, trying to draw
little attention so they might not be remembered in seven days
time. That plan was laid to ruin when an old woman shuffled along
the road. She pointed a gnarled finger at Lya.

“
Succubus!” she yelled, gurgling and spitting up. “Succubus!”
she screamed again and foamed at the mouth. The she dropped in the
street, dead.

Paine looked
in horror at Lya who shook her head.

“
Not me,” she mouthed. He wasn’t sure if he believed
her.

They departed
soon after, leaving the town to gossip behind their bolted doors
and battened windows about who had just passed through, and the
misfortune that followed in their footsteps.

Two mornings
later Paine rinsed his face in a nearby stream, letting its cold
touch wash away what remained of the night's slumber. He swallowed
some dried fruit for his morning repast, avoiding the apples. His
throat still burned.

The day passed
without much event. There were a few shrines upon the road — mostly
crosses with dried flowers to mark where someone had met their end.
Paine knew those markers well. There were five along the Fairfax
Road back home, all to mark the deaths of young men who tried to
drive away the wolfen — crooked and twisted versions of their
smaller cousins, with much more cruelty and cunning than should
befit any animal.

Paine visited
those shrines often and even summoned one of their souls forth. One
man’s specter appeared, but refused to speak; refused to even look
at him. It was one of Paine’s first attempts at necromancy and he
had failed to command it.

Stupid ghost
.
What good was summoning it if it wouldn’t do your
bidding?

In his anger
he had cursed the soul back into the netherworld. It spoke then,
and screamed its agony as it disappeared from sight.

Paine cursed
it one more time and then adjusted the cross of one of the shrines,
straightening it.

As the end of
the day approached, they stood facing the remains of the old
world.

“
I'm not sure which city this is,” Diarmuid said.

Paine found it
difficult to remove his gaze from the skeletal ruins. The remnants
of mammoth structures stood guard in the distance, stone watchers
over a wasteland of broken buildings and lost lives.

“
Incredible,” he muttered.

Diarmuid
laughed. “Yeah, I guess it's something when you've never seen it
before.”

Lya harrumphed
beside him.

Diarmuid urged
his horse forward. “Come on, it's a little bit further and we can
camp within the city for the night.”

The road was in shambles and they meandered along its broken
course. From this vantage point Paine noticed the details of the
buildings. None had windows left, the glass pillaged or broken from
the storms after the Shift, and rusted beams jutted at strange
angles. They traveled for some time along the potholed road,
bordered by the remains of what Diarmuid referred to as the
suburbs
. When they
reached the main part of the city, the concrete sentries towered
over them and Paine arched his neck. It dwarfed his own village
hundreds of times over.

There was a
lure here. Paine couldn't put his finger on it, but it was as if
something within the city called to him, summoning something within
him — perhaps his childhood passions, or maybe his desire for
something awe-inspiring in his life. He urged Shadow forward,
enticed by the stories of the old world and enthralled by the lives
of the people that had lived in such a wondrous place.