That would not be a dignified end, after all I’ve been through, Fulcrom thought.
The convoy then moved through a landscape littered with spindly bushes and the occasional deep pool, which people stumbled into by accident. He pitied those that did, and pitied himself that he could not help everyone. There were thousands of people behind him; how could he choose to divert medical attention to everyone who stumbled or caught frostbite?
These must be the decisions of a god, something he did not feel comfortable with. Besides, one god-like figure among them seemed enough. Frater Mercury, the being who had been brought through to this world, seemed more like a statue than a god, as he perched on the lead horse. The figure simply stood regarding the vista: it must have been quite a view up there.
Upwards, slowly upwards.
Low clouds vanished leaving white wisps that trailed into the distance. Sunlight materialized, bright red and disarmingly warm at times. The crest of the hill was nearby, and Fulcrom decided to break free from his position and gallop towards it. Wind lashed his face, but he desperately wanted to get there. It seemed more important than anything.
The horizon lurched into view suddenly, the sky seemed brighter. .
‘We made it,’ Lan said. ‘We did it.’
Eventually, the hill flattened out to a plateau; the wind picked up even more, but this time it came with a heavy coastal tang of seaweed or salty air. Down below, perhaps a good mile away from where they were standing, the sea met the rocky shore. The surf was lively; great white waves licked their way towards land. For some distance there was nothing to see except for an old military fortification or two, which might provide some shelter for those who needed it the most, and several vast, still rock pools. Birds were hovering on wind currents above the sea, in the deep distance. On the downward slope there was more grass poking up beneath the melting snow, perhaps brought by warmer currents, but it was enough to make him hope the supposedly decades-long freeze might come to a premature end.
‘What next?’ Lan asked.
Fulcrom took another deep breath of the coastal air, clearing his mind. ‘Well, I say we head down to the shore, then see about whether or not the land-vehicles can become sea-vehicles. As for the rest — we can either hope for more help from Frater Mercury, or we can scour the coastline for old sailing vessels. None of the outriders has found anything for us yet, but I’ve not given up hope. We really must set sail as soon as possible. We must.’
Turning his horse, Fulcrom examined the scene behind.
The closest it had been yet, the sky-city was a dark blot on the western horizon. It must have been just two or three miles from them at the most now, and from this new viewpoint its hideous glory was exposed to its fullest.
Twice the size of before, the thing seemed born from a baroque nightmare: loosely adhering to the shape of a sphere, it was as if a moon had made itself present just above the ground. Vast spiked pillars stuck out into the air around it and around them tiny black dots flew in slow circles — Fulcrom dreaded to think what they might be. Other structures appeared to be ribbed, or ribs themselves partially absorbed into the surface. There were glossy, bulbous things, and the shadows of grid-like rows, perhaps resembling some strange roads or streets. There were irregular flashes of light coming from within these hollows, containing explosions that defied logical thought. The sky itself appeared to veer away from its presence; instead of blue sky perfectly meeting its edges, there was a darker colour, smears and stains that were perhaps emissions from the city itself.
This thing — this monstrous city — had pursued them across an island, depositing bizarre life forms to attempt to murder those it had not slaughtered already. Fulcrom was not in awe of it any longer — he was furious at what it had done.
Beneath it, the tide of refugees flowed towards him, up the slope. The immense horses that pulled the land-vehicles came first, and he could see the vast grooves the wooden wheels had left across the distant landscape. Even if their progress had been swifter, they weren’t exactly difficult to follow.
‘We’ve made it this far,’ he said, ‘we’ve come so close.’
‘It’s not over yet though,’ Lan said. That fierce determination had set in her eyes once again, filling him with positivity.
‘I’m scared, Lan. I seem to have become the centre of this.’ He gestured towards the refugees. ‘This isn’t what I’m used to.’
‘It’s not what any of us are used to.’
‘You’re right,’ he replied. ‘It’s just. . what if we don’t make it? If we get away from here, then what if we perish on the seas?’
‘Then we perish knowing we damn well tried. The only other option is staying and certainly dying here, on land. We’ve come too far to do that. I refuse to, in fact. Now come on, let’s-’ Lan jerked her gaze away at the sound.
There was a tremendous ripping noise from the west and, up in the sky, possibly directly above the rearmost of the refugees, part of the sky-city began to detach itself.
Even though it was a good distance away, Fulcrom could see one of the vast, spiked pillars separate from the main structure and lower itself to the ground slower than if it was falling naturally. There was a strange, ambient silence now, like being in the centre of a storm. Eventually, it connected with the earth, landing like an arrowhead in what Fulcrom thought was marshy terrain. He waited for the sound to follow, some bass shudder to denote its presence on the ground, but nothing came. Again, a lingering silence. The wind now began to change direction. Sounds began to travel further, voices being carried on the breeze.
‘What do you suppose that is?’ Lan asked.
‘Nothing that comes down from that thing,’ Fulcrom said, ‘has so far been beneficial to us. I have no idea what could be next.’
The descended structure lowered its other end, so that it eventually lay flat, stark and black against the snow. Barbed and smouldering as if hot, something seemed to flip down on its right-hand side. Out of it spilled a dark tide.
‘Warriors. .’ Fulcrom muttered. ‘More of them. Dear Bohr, please, let there be no more.’
‘Is this it then?’ Lan asked. ‘Is this where the trail ends? Do we just send out the order for everyone to flee wherever they can?’
‘I don’t know,’ Fulcrom replied. ‘We’ve faced attacks before. We’ve done all right. If people just disperse, they’ll die.’
‘We’ve never faced that many — just look at those numbers. They’re filling up the whole landscape already.’
Lan wasn’t wrong. Swarms of these dark things seemed to occupy the terrain quickly; some began to take the form of orderly rows and regiments, tightly packed and intimidating.
‘It’s hard to see, but this looks like a concentrated attack,’ Fulcrom agreed. ‘There’s only one guy who can do anything about this.’
Fulcrom shouted and waved to get the attention of Frater Mercury, whose towering horse had now caught up with their own standard-sized animal. Eventually the god-thing stepped off the horse’s back, drifted down and connected with the ground effortlessly, using one hand to stabilize himself. Frater Mercury’s half-metal face shimmered in the afternoon sun; his cloak stirred in the onshore breeze. Fulcrom and Lan both dismounted, and then Fulcrom approached him.
I have been summoned, the voice said in Fulcrom’s head. Why?
‘Can’t you see?’ Fulcrom replied hesitantly, then jumped down from his horse, where he gestured to the sky-city’s latest manoeuvre. ‘They’re coming for us. This is it for us. We’ll die right here if you can’t help.’
Frater Mercury turned his head for a moment then returned his gaze to Fulcrom. Whatever he was — if indeed he was a he, Fulcrom only had a priest’s word for it — Fulcrom hoped he would be able to provide some assistance. ‘What can you do to help us?’