Pilgrimage of the Sacred and the Profane (20 page)

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After midnight, the wind grew stronger. The clouds rumbled as
they rolled along. In accordance with the moon’s dips into
that cover, the night alternated between glowing with white light and sinking into
pitch blackness. Somewhere out there, something howled. A cry unlike anything she’d
ever heard, it made the girl by the window grow stiff.

“Nothing to be scared about,” said the master of the lodging
house, wiping his mouth after another in a long line of drinks of
cheap booze. The unlabeled bottle of what seemed to be home
brew had been nearly empty of liquid, and was filled instead by a dark green surprise:
a frog. In these parts, various species of back-leaping frogs were used to bring a
full-bodied taste to the liquor.
But even though this lodging house was near the northernmost
extreme of the Frontier, it was still difficult for travelers to ignore
the local practice. “That right there’s the sound of beast weeds
blooming. We don’t get many dangerous critters in these parts.”

Perhaps put at ease by this, the young woman turned from the
window and smiled. It was a lonely little smile that suited the seedy
lodging house, although the seventeen-year-old brimmed with a
beauty that saved her from seeming too gloomy. Even the dreariness
of her shirt and slacks, waterproofed with animal fat, seemed
unable to counter the charm lent to her by the silver comb stuck in her red hair.

Out of the collection of five rest houses that made up this
unbelievably small community, this was by far the most squalid.
There was no one in the brick hall save the innkeeper and three
patrons, including the girl. But add two more people, and the room
would’ve been completely packed.

“How far you going anyway, miss?” the innkeeper asked as he
turned his liquor bottle upside down and shook it.

“To Cronenberg,” the girl replied.

“Now, I don’t know where you hail from, but it’s a hell of a thing for a lady like
you to choose this of all roads. If you were to take the main road instead, you’d
get there a whole lot sooner.”

“It’d be a whole lot more dangerous, too. Wouldn’t it?” the girl
said, covering the leather pouch attached to her belt with the palm of her hand. “The
road from the Belhistan region to
Cronenberg, in particular, is swarming with monsters. I’d rather
not run into any mecha beasts or mazers or any of those types,
thank you.” Though her tone was colored with loathing, there
was no fear in it.

While the back roads that branched off from the main thorough-
fares had less danger from monsters, they were beset by natural disasters such as
landslides, quicksand, and impasses, as well as
plenty of human monsters—thieves and bandits of all sorts. Traveling alone, especially
for a girl at her tender age, wasn’t
something to be undertaken unless you were quite fearless and well-skilled in the
use of weapons. And though the girl’s facial
features still shone with the innocence of youth, one could catch a glimpse of a
resolute will in them as well.

“Well, if you’ve come this far, there’s just a bit further to go—you should be there
by tomorrow evening. Get yourself a good night’s rest. Fortunately, summer’s almost
here. The road’s pretty rocky, but I suppose the season will make it a touch nicer.”

At the innkeeper’s appropriately slurred words, the girl got a
faraway look in her eye. “Yes, summer,” she muttered. “At last.”

At that moment, someone beside the reinforced lacquer door
said in a hoarse voice, “Florence.”

The girl spun around. Surprise tinged her eyes.

“Yes, I thought as much,” the voice said with apparent
satisfaction.

The girl noticed then that the speaker sat with the electric
lantern on his tilting wooden table turned off, melding with the
darkness. Despite the fact they were in a house that was all closed-up, the man wore
a wide-brimmed hat as well as a woolen cloak.
Although the gray hair and beard that hid nearly all of his face
testified to his age, the eyes with which he watched the girl
brimmed with an uncommon vitality.

“There’s no reason to pull such a face,” the old man told her.
“It’s a simple deduction, actually. You have the smell of salt and fish about you,
and the comb in your hair is made from the bones of a lion fish, is it not? That’s
a local specialty. If you grew up in Florence, I’d warrant you have all the pluck
you’d need to travel
on your own. If you’ll pardon my asking, just what manner of
business sends you to Cronenberg?”

The old man’s eyes gave off a light that seemed to draw her in, and the girl had to
turn away.

“Aw, look what you went and did. Now the little lady’s all
pissed off,” the final voice in the room said, rising from another
window directly across from the girl. The speaker was a young
man, and he’d been the very last to come down from one of the rooms upstairs. Though
his look of fearless determination fit his
muscular physique, the pale line running diagonally across his right cheek couldn’t
help but lend another impression—a less
than reputable one.

All present took in the young man’s face, but their eyes quickly
shifted to his hands. Perhaps the sight of them had stimulated their
hearing, for they now heard the sound of the little things sparkling between the
fingers of his meaty hands. Squinting her eyes, the girl realized that it was a pair
of thin metal rings.

“Care to give it a try?” the man asked, grinning as he held out his right hand to
her. The rings were shaking. To the man by the door he said, “You don’t ask anyone
where they’re from or where they’re headed—that’s the rule of the road. For starters,
you haven’t even
given us your name. I guess as people grow older, they get all
inquisitive and such, do they?”

“I wouldn’t know,” the old man said, shrugging his shoulders.
“But I suppose it was impolite of me not to introduce myself. You
may call me Professor Krolock. It’s not an official title, mind you.”

“I’m Wu-Lin,” the girl said with a bow. It was an ingrained
reaction.

“I’m Toto. Anyway, how about a little wager, missy?” the young
man suggested. “It’s a simple game, really. All you need to do is
separate these two rings. Like so.”

Reaching for the loose end with his other hand, the man—
Toto—pulled in either direction. The rings came apart without
any resistance at all, but no matter how closely Wu-Lin scrutinized where she thought
she’d seen them separate, she couldn’t find any opening or break. Toto quickly put
his hands together again. And the rings were back the way they’d been.

“You get three minutes. The bet is for one gold kraken coin.”

Wu-Lin’s eyes bulged in their sockets. “Those are worth five
times their face value on the Frontier,” she said in disbelief. “There’s
no way I’d be carrying that sort of money.”

“Good enough. For something else then,” Toto said, his smile
strangely affable. “What that pretty little hand of yours has been safeguarding the
last few minutes.”

Startled, Wu-Lin twisted her body to put her waist out of Toto’s view, but at the
same time two more pairs of eyes concentrated on her from another direction. They
were focused on her pouch.

“You’re looking awfully pale . . . it must be rather important to you. If it’s not
cash, I’d say it’s jewels . . . or maybe a youth elixir?” And with that, Toto suddenly
got a serious look in his eye again. “Well, if it’s all that precious to you, I won’t
twist your arm. What-ever money you’ve got will be fine. I’ll still put up one kraken
coin. And I’m a man of my word.”

Wu-Lin’s expression shifted. Judging from her wardrobe and her
current accommodations, she wasn’t exactly traveling in luxury.
Kraken coins were produced in extremely limited quantities and
were quite valuable. That one coin would be enough for her to hire
an armed escort and pay for a carriage all the way to the Capital.

“Relax,” the young man said. “Even if I clean you out, I’ll at least
buy you some breakfast tomorrow morning. Once you’ve eaten your
fill, you’ll make it to Cronenberg somehow or other.”

His smiling face and equally affable objections served to strengthen
Wu-Lin’s resolve. “I paid for my room in advance, but that only
leaves me with four coppers,” the girl confessed.

“Well, that’ll do,” Toto said, spinning the silvery rings around his fingertip. “Okay,
here’s mine.”

His left palm went down on the table, and then came away again.
The glitter of gold was reflected in all three pairs of eyes.

Taking a seat in the chair across from him, Wu-Lin lifted the lid of her pouch and
thrust her right hand into it. Her left hand kept it covered so no one could see inside.
The faces of the four copper coins she produced were covered with a patina.

“That’s the spirit!” Toto said. “You get exactly three minutes.” Handing the two rings
to the girl, he gazed at the magnetic watch around his wrist. “Ready—Go!”

As he gave the signal, Wu-Lin focused her entire being on the rings in her hands.
On closer inspection, one of them did have a break in it. But while it had an opening,
the gap wasn’t half as wide as the other ring was thick—it was as thin as a thread.
But Toto had got them apart. Relying on her memories of what she’d seen,
Wu-Lin tried every possible movement with her hands, but the
rings remained hopelessly linked.

“Three minutes—time’s up!”

As Toto spoke, the girl’s shoulders—which were quite solid for a girl her age—fell
in disappointment. Setting the rings down on the table, she let out a deep sign.

“I like you, missy,” the young man said. “You’re not gonna raise a stink and call
me a cheat, are you?”

“If I did, would you give me my money back?”

Toto broke into a broad grin. “Sure, why not? I’m not about to
give you my coin, but you could walk away with your own. All
you’d have to do is give me one little bitty peek at what you got in that pouch.”

This seemed to be quite a generous offer, and after furrowing her
brow for a moment, Wu-Lin soon nodded her agreement. She
probably figured since he already knew she was carrying something precious, there
was really no point in hiding it. Hers was a rather decisive temperament.

“Hey, you guys better not look. This is just us gamblers squaring away a debt,” Toto
coldly told the other two men as he watched Wu-Lin’s hand disappear into the pouch.

Her hand came right back out. In it was a wad of black velvet. Brusquely setting it
down on the table, Wu-Lin pulled the shiny black cloth to either side without pretension.

“I see,” Toto said, pursing his lips. Rather than being impressed, he seemed a bit
suspicious—and more than a tad disappointed.

There lay a semitransparent bead that Wu-Lin could’ve easily
concealed in the palm of her hand. Essentially a sphere, it was marked in places by
faint distortions. While the material from
which it was crafted was unclear, judging by its dull silver glow, it didn’t appear
to be any sort of jewel or other precious stone.

“Satisfied?”

“What the hell is it?” Toto asked.

As he reached out with one hand, Wu-Lin quickly jerked the
bead away. Carefully rewrapping it, she said, “It’s a kind of pearl.”

“It came out of the sea, did it? So, I guess you came all this way to sell it, then.
I hate to break it to you, but that thing—”

“It’s no concern of yours,” Wu-Lin said flatly. Quickly picking up
her coppers and putting them and the velvet wad back into her
pouch, the girl returned to her seat by the window—back to the sound of the wind,
and the ever-changing hues of the darkness.

At that moment, there was a dull sound off in the distance—the thunder of hoofbeats.
They were drawing closer.

The innkeeper set down the glass he was holding. “No one passes
this way at this hour,” he said. His voice was stiff.

“It’s a traveler,” Professor Krolock said, his eyes still shut.

Toto stopped toying with his rings and muttered, “In the dead of night? They’d have
to be funny in the head.”

No sooner had he spoken than a beastly howl drifted eerily from the opposite direction
of the hoofbeats.

“They’re out?!” the innkeeper practically screamed as he got to his feet. “It’s those
damn bronze hounds! They run in packs of ten or so. Can’t do squat to them with a
sword or spear.”

“We’ve got to let whoever it is in!” Wu-Lin said, dashing toward the door, but the
innkeeper raced over like the wind and grabbed her tightly.

“Oh no you don’t,” the innkeeper said. “It’s too late for that. If those
accursed hounds get a whiff of humans, they’ll be in here, too!”

“But—” Wu-Lin started to protest, but she caught herself.

The cramped room was filled with the sort of silence that made the flesh crawl. The
sound of the hoofbeats continued to steadily
grow louder, and then they seemed to pull aside in front of the
door, even though the rider had surely heard the hounds.

A different sound arose from the end of the road: the clatter of countless paws scampering
closer.

“We have to help that person!” Wu-Lin swung her foot forcefully,
and the innkeeper grabbed his crotch. The girl ran to the door.