Another non-sun hovered silently at the crown of the room. Room, Stenn thought, for once I feel comfortable calling something in here by that name. Unlike every other hollow in Garamoush’s shell, this one was not symmetrical- the floor was distinctly the floor and the walls were distinctly the walls. The room sported ponds of clear water, healthy-looking green vegetation, and squat structures made of white stone. The ceiling, on the other hand, was the closest thing Stenn had seen to a blue sky in a long while. Light blue liquid swirled lazily overhead and a barrier of what looked like glass formed a bowl-like sky.
The ghost of a rumbling ran underneath Stenn’s feet. He sucked in his breath. This room might not be like the others, Stenn thought, but that doesn’t mean it won’t move when He Stirs… The ground rumbled and pulsed only slightly and there was no movement. Stenn looked behind him and through the open stone door. He saw that the plains in the last chamber continued to roll, but Stenn and Anna stayed put. Even the previous cavern stayed anchored in place. He is good and He will care, Stenn recited again, realizing just how truthful those words were.
“I like this place already,” Anna said with a little laugh.
“Mm,” Stenn said noncommittally. But this shouldn’t be happening, he thought. Garamoush might Stir once, maybe twice every few weeks- it was uncommon enough to make it an auspicious occasion. Something’s wrong here. Stenn shook the thought from his head for now and turned to see the new hollow he and Anna had fallen into.
The word His Sanctuary was etched with caring hands on a slab of the white stone. Or, at least, the stone once said that. Now, the word Ruins was scrawled across it with violent, cutting strokes. It was as if a rabid bear had carved the word, a rabid bear with one giant claw. It hung silently, held up by braided rope attached to a natural arch courtesy of the thick branches of nearby trees.
“You look surprised,” Anna said, her eyes fixated on the ceiling.
“I am. Well, I’m surprised because I’m not. No state of breathtaking shock, no clever quip. I don’t know if me getting used to all of this is a sign of adaptation or madness. Honestly, this seems even more out of place than the rest of the outrageous stuff in here.”
“That’s because it shouldn’t be in His shell.”
“You could say that for a lot of things.”
“I don’t think so. Everything else we’ve seen… makes sense. Sense, at least according to us humans, is probably not something that should even apply to Garamoush’s shell in general, but this room is different. We’ve never seen anything even resembling a structure made by humans.” The more Stenn looked at the structures, the more they became almost like small houses. The buildings had had blankets drawn overtop them to serve as a kind of roof. Given the lack of weather aside from the occasional chilly gust of wind, the blankets must have only really served as a way to keep the non-sun out of sleeping eyes seeing as how the trees that had apparently been growing there had been chopped down. Stenn reasoned that the wood was likely put to use building the barricade. “But these houses are supposed to be elsewhere, anywhere else but here, really. Believe me, I’m more than glad to see a place like this, but… maybe it’s just an old man thing to be so wary sometimes.”
“Again, I’ve been saying that a lot already. After all of what we just slopped through, I’m not going to let a blessing like this pass us by.”
“So, you’re seeing this through the end with me for sure?”
Stenn honestly didn’t understand the question when he heard it. “Of course. Why do you think I’ve been sticking around for this whole time? Why do you think I just saved you from ending up as a puddle back there?”
Anna’s quick smirk told Stenn that she didn’t think it was really much of a question either. She said, “I tried to kill you.”
“Garamoush has tried to kill me more. And I daresay he’s doing a better job. But you don’t see me trying to carve him up like a fowl.”
“You said what I was doing was childish, rash, and stupid.”
“Oh, now you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you? I might… have implied that, but look where we are. I can’t help but think that diving into this shell after you might have been at least two of the things you mentioned.”
“At least,” Anna said, the threat of a laugh passing her lips. It was only a wisp of one, but it was good enough for Stenn.
The stone structures looked like little islands amidst the patches of green grass and the gently flowing rivers. The water didn’t seem to have any point of origin, however. Instead, it flowed through its little channels, sometimes even straight up hills. Tufts of taller, paler grasses grew along some parts of the riverside. Stenn knew that no place like this could ever exist in the outside world and it was hard for him to put a word to what he was feeling as he absorbed the gentle scenery. Serenity was the closest word he could find. It was as if somebody had taken the world of a dream, a dream that somebody would never want to wake up from, and made it a reality.
“It’s still up there, Stenn,” Anna said, as if she somehow sensed Stenn’s rising mood.
Stenn looked up at the ceiling, knowing full well what she was on about. Indeed, the black sludge, or tar, or whatever it was, ran along the length of the ceiling and all the way back down to the ground where it seemed to disappear out the other rocky door on the far side of the room. It looked significantly less… wet than the slime that was on the ceiling in the plains, but there were still ponds and patches of plants that looked less than healthy now- they had adopted the same characteristic blackish hue.
The corrosive black sludge had almost completely destroyed some buildings as well- their white stone crumbling into blackened powder. But, strangely, some of the stone chunks were scattered about, far from any of the buildings. Stenn had seen other, more natural looking, outcroppings of the white rocks throughout the Sanctuary, but these were different, fragmentary. It was almost as if some huge force has blown parts of the buildings to pieces. Stenn’s eyes started to instinctually scan the whole of the tranquil hollow for any sign that whatever did the damage was still lurking about but he forced himself to stop- who or whatever it was must have enormous strength and thus, enormous size. If he wasn’t able to pick it out in a quiet, idyllic garden of all places, it probably wasn’t hiding there.
Stenn had to smirk at the irony. His experience as a Knight and his skill at picking dangers out of crowds could be truly useful again, but Stenn was simply too exhausted and relieved to care to question his blessing.
Still, as he walked amongst the blasted and decaying ruins of the buildings, he noticed that some of the stones must have been under the effects of the sludge for some time. Some were thin and smoothly rounded, almost like bones. They even had a hint of yellow showing on their pale surfaces where the sludge had not eaten through. Stenn’s weary mind shook off the gut reaction association. Slightly yellowish stone would probably be the least strange thing Stenn had seen in quite a while.
Stenn made it a point to avoid wandering too close to any of the affected ponds, plants, and buildings. Instead, he waded through a shallow part of the river to a large grassy patch that sported a fair number of still-intact stone cubes. They were bigger up close, Stenn realized. They looked to be the size of a sizeable room one might find in a fairly wealthy home.
However, as he got closer, he realized that what he first thought were tricks of the light were very much real. The same carvings of the worm… snake… river thing that covered the bone pillars had reappeared on the white stone walls of the small buildings. Now, the carvings were much larger, with the same worm-like shape wrapping around what appeared to be a huge four-armed tortoise- undoubtedly Garamoush. Stenn ran his hands along the carvings. It seemed like they were done with an even more unsteady hand than before. It looked strangely similar to the handiwork that carved out the word “Ruins” on the stone slab.
It’s one thing to carve out wild, abstract shapes, Stenn thought, but there’s still solid form in those carvings. It looks lik
e each one was intentionally. Stenn wondered at the unnerving art. Whoever or whatever was making the carvings seemed to be growing more erratic in their handiwork but their focus was still just as strong. The appearance of Garamoush as a victim of the bizarre worm shape particularly bothered Stenn. I do hope I didn’t bring us into a deathtrap, Stenn thought. Stenn quieted his thoughts and went inside the building. Neither he nor Anna would be able to make it to the Wellspring with so little direction and energy, so the Sanctuary was still their best chance at survival.
On the inside, the stone structure was no more than a cube without a roof aside from its cloth awning. Beneath it was tightly-bundled straw with two thick woolen blankets. It was frugal living, at the very least, but whoever decided to settle in the “Sanctuary” must have planned well in advance for their stay. Carved into the stone were also small shelves that held pairs of clothes bound with string, as well as handfuls of tools ranging from knives to skillets to chisels. Stenn didn’t think that rusting and decay followed the same rules in Garamoush’s shell that it did on the outside. The metal on the tools, much like the metal in Stenn’s newfound gauntlets, was still in remarkably good condition.
“Seems like we could take a rest here if you’d like,” Stenn said. “Anna?” He looked around, poking his head back outside of the structure. “Anna?”
He found Anna with her head deep in the river, her head and hair swishing about like grass in the wind. She pulled head out of the clear water with a smile.
Anna turned to look at Stenn, a wet eyebrow raised. “You were taking too long. Didn’t you say you were thirsty?”
Stenn chuckled and sat down next to Anna. “You heard what I said about taking a rest, right?”
“I did.”
“Good.” Stenn lowered his own head down and began to drink the water. It was clear and cool, almost unbelievably so. Stenn felt almost as if his whole body was being revived and given new life. He had to wonder if all of the tranquil Sanctuary really was just a part of some waking dream.
“Have you ever stuck your hand into a fire?” Anna asked, her filthy hands mopping up the droplets that tried to escape down her face. “Like, a hearth?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You mean you never tried it as a child? Never held your hand over a candle flame just to see what would happen?”
“On accident, maybe. But not on purpose.”
Anna’s look said good enough and she continued, saying, “Sometimes something is so hot that when you touch it you actually think it’s cold at first. It’s a really bizarre feeling, like your body doesn’t know what to do with so much of one thing. That’s what this feels like. Like the water isn’t real. It’s so real and so good that it isn’t…”
Stenn just let the rambling young woman continue to ramble on as he drank more. But perhaps she had a point. Stenn’s throat was so dry that it took handful after handful just to feel anything but brambles in this throat. Strange as it may have seemed, Stenn wouldn’t have minded drowning in that water if it meant getting more of it into his mouth.
“It’s funny how that works,” Stenn said as he finally tore himself away from the pond. Something is so hot that it’s cold, so wet that it’s dry. So strange that it’s something you don’t look twice at.” The swirling sky of blue liquid shifted and changed in the non-sun’s light, like it was the heavens speeding by.
“It was all wrong,” Stenn added.
“What was?”
“Everything. Everything I came in here that I was confident in.”
“For He is good
and He will care
The Finder of the Lost
The steadier of nerves…”
Stenn had to laugh. “Come on, it just sounds ridiculous now. All of it. I had been clinging to make out a scrap of truth here and there from the old legends and myths, but…”
“It’s almost as if the people who wrote it had no idea what they were talking about.”
Stenn frowned, not in the mood just then for Anna’s sarcasm. He sighed and sat upright, his arms around his knees, “I suppose I never really considered just what that meant. Then again, I never thought I’d have to put their… factuality to the test.” For a moment, only the faint wind and the gentle lapping of the pond’s waves made any noise. “I think what you said before makes sense now. You came in here with nothing. No expectations aside from the ones about yourself. I expected the world to follow the rules of the humans who wrote about it.” Stenn dryly chucked. “How old did you say you were?”
“Older than you, I guess” Anna said.
Stenn nodded. He supposed it was true. He was still clinging to the same stories he heard as a child. What adult truly believed in them?
In pensive silence, Stenn and Anna washed themselves clean of their filth in separate ponds. The waking world seemed lighter and less hostile as a result. Their old clothes were exchanged for pairs of dusty clothes found amongst the ruins. The only clothes that could even somewhat fit Stenn was a pair of trousers and a posh-looking doublet that he had cut most of the sleeves off of when he felt the fabric start to protest as he moved. For all the practicality and simple nature of the “Sanctuary,” formalwear didn’t rub Stenn as a necessity.
Anna reemerged some time later, in similarly edited clothing. She had chosen to keep her dark red coat, but the brown tunic and trousers she wore were probably suited to a woman, or thin man, who was close to a taller than Anna.
When Stenn pointed that fact out, she only shrugged and said, “Didn’t you say something about not ignoring blessings as they come?”
Stenn smiled and consented. “Speaking of which, have you been thinking what I have about this place?”
Anna looked Stenn up and down, as if trying to read into him. “At this point,” she said, her sarcasm returning, “I’m pretty sure your old man brain and mine couldn’t be more different, so…
Stenn shook his head. “Of course, of course. I’m thinking that if the people who settled here were able to get this far, don’t you think they might have been meaning to… keep going?”
“Maybe they were just murderers who escaped from prison.”
Stenn’s skeptical look and raised eyebrows snuffed out Anna’s theory. Although, Stenn thought, it might explain where everybody up and left to. “I think you get what I’m hinting at now.”
“They were going for Garamoush’s Wellspring too.” Anna forced out, as if it had been painfully obvious all along.
“Exactly. Which means that they might have brought… something that can help us. A map, maybe?”
“Somehow I doubt it. I’ve never heard of cartographers coming in to Garamoush’s shell to make their fancy little doodles.”
“But it also means we get to stay here that much longer. That’s something.”
“That’s one of the smartest things I’ve ever heard you say.”
Stenn shook his head, but he smiled. “Thank you.”
Anna pointed to a pile of yellow buds that lay on a white stone slab on the grass. They were shaped almost like the heads of tulips, but were a bit thicker.
“I found those too,” Anna said. “They’re good.”
“Good?” Stenn said, slightly horrified. “You’ve been eating them?”
“Have to eat something,” Anna said, shrugging. She reached over and picked up bulb and popped it into her mouth. “They’re all over the place,” she said, food flying from her mouth.
The light of the non-sun made everything look a bit more golden than it actually was, so Stenn had to wonder if the bulb he held in his fingers was really so brilliantly yellow. He slowly squished it with his finger and a syrup-like liquid trickled out.
“I think I’ve been a little unfair to you,” Stenn said. He eyed the small yellow bulbs with undiminished suspicion, but popped one into his mouth. It had the texture of a meatball
“Meaning what?” Anna said through a mouthful of five bulbs.
“Meaning I th
ought all this time you needed some kind of rescuing to get out of here. I underestimated you. For that, I apologize.” Stenn saw Anna’s eyebrow start to rise. “And yes, that’s a real apology. I admit I was wrong. But also, I know who you are. But you probably still don’t know anything about me. That’s not right.”
Anna groaned. “Bloody hell,” she swallowed some of her food, “is this your new strategy for trying to stop me? Making me listen to your life story? You’re so damn ancient that I’ll waste away just sitting here.”
“I would go before you would,” Stenn pointed out. “And like I said, I’m seeing this through to the end. Hell or high water… both of which we’ve already experienced a bit of already.”
“Alright,” Anna said, lying on her back while stuffing more food into her mouth.
Stenn pulled Anna up. “Don’t lay on your back,” he said. “You’ll choke.”
Anna gave a small nod and stared at Stenn with those wide brown eyes of hers.
When Stenn tried to organize his entire life inside of his head, it did seem almost unbearably long. Entire years had been compressed to a few murky images or muddy sounds in his mind, but now they were being rolled out like dough and growing again in clarity. Still, it took no less than a few minutes to set everything in order but Stenn found he was asking himself- How in the hell did I manage to live this long?
So, he told Anna all of it... Lord Ennet’s manor, his living-dream turned living-nightmare as a Knight, his departure from the Ministry and his new life with Tania and Eym. It was a trimmed, broad, history and Stenn couldn’t help but think he lost a detail here and there, but it was out all the same. It was out and it was true. No legends, no songs, just the life he had lived for forty-one years.
“He’s important to you, isn’t he?” Anna’s feasting was much slower now. She didn’t let her food get in the way of talking clearly, either. “This blue-blood Samuel Ennet.”
“Incredibly,” Stenn said, his thoughts immediately turning back to the kind old man. “He was even important to the Ministry several years ago when he was still a Declarer. But then one day, he disappeared into Garamoush’s shell, same as us.”
“Except, we’ll be coming out of here alive,” Anna said.
“My thoughts exactly,” Stenn said with a smile.
“You think maybe he’s still here?”
Stenn ate one of the bulbs, using the time to mull over his thoughts. “It might explain who lived here,” he admitted, “but he was old when he disappeared. Disappeared without a word or trace, in fact. Provided the shit we’ve seen in His shell didn’t get him, old age might have.” Stenn looked down at his own reflection in the water. His already-large nose was starting to hook and the lines of age in his light brown skin were becoming even more pronounced. “I think I’m content with letting him become part of the past.” When Stenn said it out loud, he wasn’t entire sure he even fully believed it himself.
Anna apparently didn’t, however. She didn’t even try to hide her disbelief, but didn’t make anything of it. She shrugged and said, “If that’s what you want. My past is the only reason I’m here at all. So maybe it’s worth holding on to.”
“Samuel Ennet…” Stenn said, standing up. He paced the length of the pond, shaking his head and smiling a smile brought on by memory, “Lord Samuel Ennet, husband of Marianne Ennet, father of none, lord of the beachside Staringsun Manor over Smallslip-on-the-Hills… he was certainly something. Certainly somebody.” The old man’s identity, from his friendly, affected voice to his coif of light hair that had been grey for decades, to his immediate and selfless concern for his subjects, anchored Ennet in place in Stenn’s mind. If he hadn’t forgotten about the old lord by then, when all hope for him had faded years ago, he wasn’t about to just then, much as he might have just wanted to. It probably would have been simpler that way.
“My lord?”
Stenn wheeled around, looking at Anna. “What did you say?” he asked.
Anna looked just as confused as Stenn. “I didn’t say anything.”
“My lord Samuel Ennet?” The voice was that of an older woman.
Now both Stenn and Anna were looking around the Sanctuary, the new voice seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
“Wha-“ Anna started to say.
The voice called again, this time in a tone almost nearing sing-songy.
This time, Anna had evidently pinned down its location. She sprang to her feet, depositing her last bud in her satchel as she did so. Stenn quickly followed after her. The calling was repeating, but always sounding just as jovial as the last, as if this mysterious new person was looking for Ennet like she was playing a game of hide-and-seek with him.
The ghostly voice hung on the gentle winds throughout the Sanctuary and suddenly the old white stone ruins were adopting an unnerving aura all their own. The unyielding golden sunlight was no help, either. Horrors and monsters of stories and legends were often confined to the nighttime. Feeling such an uncomfortable tingling in his spine in broad daylight, Stenn didn’t deny his unease as he and Anna searched where she had thought the voice came from.
“What in the world-” Anna started. She cursed in frustration. “Where? Who-?”
Anna’s eyes widened as they fixated on the form on the far side of the small stone court. Stenn followed her gaze and every faculty in his body froze solid.
A woman, well-dressed and well-kept fluttered about the grassy islands, trying to pick the yellow buds from the flowers. Her hands passed right through them, however. In fact, everything seemed to, even the light. It was as if the woman was made of white morning mist.
Stenn’s whole body shivered as he suddenly became cold.
Stenn’s hand instinctively shot out, telling Anna to wait. Wait and keep her distance. The calling woman was… wrong. It was as if she wasn’t a full person, merely the echo of one. Her body showed what was behind it as if she were made from silvery water. And yet, she moved with the freedom of air.
For once, an image from Stenn’s stories matched its reality. The woman was not entirely of this world- a ghost. A spirit shunned by death for its enduring attachments to the mortal world. It didn’t even take a Ministry education or even the ability to read words in a book to know a ghost story. They were favourites around fires and hearths, but few people outside of the Ministry probably knew just how true some of the stories were. If the world was strange enough for a four-armed, future-seeing tortoise who talks in His sleep to exist, the appearance of the living dead was hardly much of a tall tale at all.
The ghost’s long curls flowed behind her as she scurried about the square buildings. Her trained hands were weathered and muscled and she was intent on putting them to use in working the white stone. She raised her mallet and chisel, swinging with purpose and a practiced eye, though her tools passed straight through the material with every strike.
Stenn edged in closer.
The woman’s white form flickered and she disappeared.
“Wha-?“ Stenn and Anna both said.
The apparition appeared some ways ahead, her foggy pale figure blending in with the stones in the distance. Stenn and Anna followed quietly, taking pains to avoid hitting any of the broken stone. The woman was now bending down, her hands passing right through the yellow buds she was no doubt trying to pluck. She did this many times, ever ignorant of her inability to touch the plants. But she was dauntless, mechanical even. The woman moved like her life had been written out on a page. She followed commands and went through motions but touched nothing. But she didn’t know any better, only doing what seemed right in her head.
Stenn’s foot brushed a chunk of lopsided stone and it fell with a soft thud.
The woman looked up from her work and Stenn froze in place. The woman started to walk towards him and Anna. Anna was quick to jump out of the ghostly woman’s path, but Stenn was not so quick. The phantom moved with fittingly unnatural speed and grace. She sped forward, her legs mov
ing faster than a human’s should have.
Stenn took a breath in as she neared him. Her eyes were empty wastes, but there was something about them… No…
The brief moment of Stenn’s thoughts passed him just as the woman did. She brushed right by him and continued her gathering elsewhere.
When Stenn lead his breath out, he felt like it could have filled a ship’s sail for an entire ocean-bound journey. The chill that passed through his body lingered, though, like he had fallen into a mound of snow.
“She doesn’t even know we’re here,” Anna said, rejoining Stenn.
Stenn shivered. “Maybe that’s for the best…”
“What’s wrong?” Anna asked.
“Well,” Stenn started. “We are now in the company of a ghost who has almost touched me twice now.” Stenn saw Anna’s raised eyebrow out of the corner of his eye. “You’ve never heard the old legend about how if you’re touched by a ghost it makes you a ghost too?”
“You have an old legend for everything, don’t you? Is this just something old people are good with?”
“Most of us,” Stenn admitted.
“Odd source of oddly practical knowledge,” Anna commented. Stenn nodded.
The woman busied herself amongst the buds and the ponds. She looked left, then right, and then sighed in relief. She put her bucket down and began to pace the length of the pond Stenn had drunk from. Her head tilted back and she began to sing.
Whether it was the distance or Stenn’s mind simply rebelling against him, he couldn’t quite make out the song. It sounded familiar, though, Stenn couldn’t quite place it. It was an uplifting tone, the garbled words of the ghost still carrying the joy in the song’s words. It reminded Stenn in more ways than one of the Ennet manor and the songs sung in it that he grew up on.
Stenn swallowed long and loudly. “There’s one more thing,” he said. “I know that woman.”
“What.” Anna said. It didn’t even sound like a question when she said it. Instead, it sounded more like a statement of pure disbelief.
Stenn’s shoulders suddenly felt more aching than before and his eyelids felt heavy. It was becoming so simple. He was just going to escort this young woman to speak to a god by going through all of the horrors of a labyrinthine shell that seemed to try to emotionlessly kill them off at every turn. Simple. But now, a literal ghost from his past had to make things completed once again.
For the first time, Stenn thought, there’s a problem in here the strength of my body can’t solve.
“That’s Marianne Ennet, Lord Ennet’s wife.” Just saying her name dug up more memories. Though she was a shadow compared to Ennet’s greatness, as many great women unfortunately were, she relished in being a shadow. She ran the manor when Ennet’s studies were running him. She turned the countryside from sodden farmland into groves of grapes that grew some of the best wine Stenn had ever drunk. She organized villages into towns, towns into cities, and the ruins of lives into healthy new ones. And… “I owe my life outside of the Ministry to her.”
“I thought you said her husband was the one who convinced you to leave.”
“He convinced me to try, to think about it. But she was really the one who made it all possible. Ennet was a Declarer and a damn respected one at that, but he didn’t have the kind of power to dismiss a Knight. But one certain Pontifex, you know, one of the heads of the Ministry, well, he thought his daughter and Ennet would make a good match. As it turned out, Ennet’s new father-in-law had just the power we had been looking for.”
“She looks pretty old,” Anna said. The wrinkles were indeed starting to work their way into her cheeks and her whole face spoke of aged experience. Still, Stenn didn’t place her as being much older than him. She was at least a handful years older than he though. Her death couldn’t have been more than a couple years ago. “So, I guess they were a pretty good match after all.”
“They were. Whenever Ennet wasn’t staring into his books, he was staring at her. To say that they loved each other would be like saying that a fish loves water. They simply couldn’t exist without one another. Even three stillborn children later and no direct heirs to their name, their love never faltered.” Stenn had spent most of his life seeing the love between Samuel and Marianne. That kind of love is what he had wanted to feel in his own life. There’s another promise for you, Tania, Stenn thought, we’ll be as happy as they once were, if we’re not already. “Still, Marianne liked to have her eyes elsewhere, helping others whenever possible, myself included. We conspired together. With her father still a Pontifex, the oldest one to date as it turns out, getting me out of the Ministry when only death or injury could free Knights from the job… I owe quite a lot to her. And to her father. Then one day, she just disappeared with old man Ennet. No letters. No word at all. Nothing.”
Suddenly Stenn was almost falling straight towards the ground, a concentrated force shoving against his back.
“Then I think you’ve got a few things to say to her,” Anna said, her feet digging into the ground as she pushed Stenn.
Stenn dug his feet in deeper. “She’s a ghost, Anna.”
“Exactly. It means she died and there are still things left unsaid. Ghosts don’t pass on for a reason.”
“Sometimes it’s better to just let these kinds of things go,” Stenn said, bracing his whole body against Anna’s pushing.
“You mean to just ignore things. Don’t be stupid. You should just be happy you get the chance to say goodbye at all.”
I should be happy… Stenn thought. At least he might still be able to reach out to her. Anna had to live with the space and silence in-between her, her brother, and her mother and father’s ghosts.
“Lady Marianne Ennet,” Stenn called out, unable to hide the traces of shakiness in his voice.
The ghost didn’t respond.
Stenn called out again, louder this time. He bit his lip.
The ghost remained ignorant.
Once more Stenn called. It sounded more like a cry of desperation in his ears that time. He could hear it bouncing off of the high walls and ceilings of the Sanctuary. It hardly sounded like him at all.
Before the last echo faded, the ghost turned, the deep transparent nothings that were her eyes bore into Stenn and Anna. At least, Stenn thought they were drilling into him. The sight only made his spine shiver with renewed intensity.
“Do you remember me?” Stenn asked, trying to steady the shakiness of his voice. “Do you know who I am?”
The ghost only looked at him for a moment then disappeared into a flash of light.
Stenn lurched back as Marianne’s pale form rematerialized not a hair’s length away.
The ghost laughed. It was a full, almost warm laugh. If she were still wrapped up in skin and muscle, Marianne’s laughter would have made Stenn respond in kind. Respond with gusto, in fact. Now, it only served to make the chill in his spine even colder.
“You startle just as easily as always, Stenn,” Marianne said. Her smile was a sad one, but still a smile.
Anna smirked. “I like her,” she whispered.
“I-” Stenn started. “I- No!” He shouted, circling around Marianne. “You’re… you’re dead! How can you just be… like you are… you’re dead! We even had a funeral for you and Samuel. We just buried empty caskets, but we still did it anyway!”
“Calm yourself, Stenn,” Marianne said, her hand coming up like a caring mother’s. Stenn didn’t let her touch him. “Believe me, I was the first to know of my… current condition.” Her eyes went up to the black slime across the walls and ceiling. “I would wager anything, if I had anything left, that whatever made that is what made me what I am now.” Marianne sighed. It felt like an icy winter breeze. “Don’t look at me like that, Stenn. I am not as lost as you think.”
“If you’re a ghost,” Anna said, looking about as fascinated as Stenn was uneasy, “doesn’t that mean you’ve got something holding you here?”
“Yes, I suppose that’
s true. Aren’t you a knowledgeable young woman, Miss…?”
“Anna,” Anna said. “And yes, knowledgeable.” She gave a smirk at Stenn. Stenn didn’t return it.
“I am… waiting for somebody.” Marianne looked right at Stenn as she spoke.
“Samuel,” Stenn said.
“The old lord?” Anna asked.
Marianne nodded at them both. “The very same.”
“Please, if you have any answers for us,” Stenn said.
“I know that you are asking at least somewhat about all that you’ve seen when inside His shell. Strange as it may seem, sometimes there just are not many answers to give. You and I may not have even seen the same parts of the shell, given how truly grand and vast it is. But for once, the old legends and stories are not too far off from the truth. What you saw simply… is. Perhaps we all expected the same thing as you, though. Some kind of logic to it all, some sort of way for us to know that the shell wasn’t driving us all mad. But He is a god and we are mortals. Imagine if an insect were to begin crawling inside of us.”
“Actually, I’d rather not.”
Marianne edged a bit closer, a bit too close for Stenn’s liking. He wasn’t afraid of her touch anymore, only of her eyes. He didn’t think he could look into them and see only empty nothingness looking back at him. There could be anything from demons to angels lurking in nothingness like that. “There’s something in here with us, Stenn. I’m sure you’ve seen the signs of it.”
“You mean the black sludge?”
Marianne nodded. “It’s something that doesn’t belong. I know that’s not very helpful for all of the questions that must be filling your heads right now, but that’s all I can really say. I lost my husband to whatever horrible creature it is. I imagine that’s how I died, too. As well as everybody else who came with us. There were more of us, you know. Nine in all. You may even know some of them. Rikmond, Hannibal, Rose, Bertram, Lucile…”
“Your retainers from the manor?”
“The very same.”
“And are they…?”
“Dead?” Marianne said. “I can’t imagine how they couldn’t be. Some of them probably died trying to defend that little barricade they set up but… well, the creature still got past it, didn’t it?”
“Meaning, it got past them too,” Stenn concluded.
Marianne frowned, but nodded.
“Why did you leave with no word?” Stenn edged. “No nothing?”
“Don’t take it as a slight, Stenn. You know that his lordship and I always tried to look after you. This time was no different. We knew that if you knew we were leaving for Garamoush, you would want to come along with us. But you had your own, new life to live. And now you’re alive and we are not.”
“… Thank you,” was all Stenn managed to say.
“Ha. I’m glad to see you haven’t changed very much, either. Excellent.” Marianne looked up and down Stenn, as if she was a mother inspecting her favourite child. “When his lordship departed for His Shore, none of us could let him go alone. He protested, as he always did, saying that it was his choice to make the journey so he was the only one to have to bear its burden.”
“Sounds very much like him.”
“So I thought. But he was changing then, Stenn. Changing into a man I didn’t recognize. Obsession is the word I would use, obsession with the idea that infinite knowledge of the world was held by an enormous sleeping tortoise. And all of it just waiting to be taken by whoever was brave or smart enough to try.”
“But that’s absurd, the legends-“
“You aren’t the first one to bring those up. And you also wouldn’t be the last one that his lordship would shun as a result.”
“Desperation,” Anna said, cutting in. “Something else I’m familiar with it. Stuff just doesn’t make as much sense when you get desperate. A complete lie turns into the most obvious truth in the world.”
“Poetic,” Marianne said, her eyes showing her still lost in thought.
“I’ve been around him too much,” Anna said, pointing at Stenn. “For a man who made his life around clobbering people, he sure talks like a librarian.”
“Blame my Ministry education,” Stenn said.
“But,” Anna continued, “isn’t it kind of, I don’t know, a sin for somebody to go snooping around in His shell?”
“Why yes, young miss. You too are committing a sin by being here. But simple trespassing wasn’t the worst of Samuel’s sins. We all tried to convince his lordship that he was a Declarer- taught the lessons of humility, understanding, and servitude to a god and thus had no business trying to trespass into His territory. But it wasn’t good enough for him.”
“Let me guess, you followed him to try to dissuade him,” Anna said.
Marianne nodded, and then her ghostly eyes turned to Stenn. She looked at Anna next and asked, “Is this a tale you’re familiar with?”
“Almost uncomfortably so,” Anna said. She motioned towards Stenn, “He’s given up trying at this point.”
Stenn shrugged. “She’s even more stubborn than I am. It’s hard to believe, I know.”
Marianne’s look, even without proper eyes, seemed to harden on Anna. “I can’t exactly stop you either, young lady, but know that ambition has its costs. And sins are sins for a reason.”
“Noted,” said Anna, her lips pursing just a bit.
“Marianne,” Stenn began. He had wanted to say it since Anna brought it up. “Goodbye,” that was all he had to say. And yet… now here she was, holding a conversation with him like it was any other day. Was it really the right time to be saying goodbye? Stenn didn’t know and didn’t give himself the chance to think on it. “Where is Lord Ennet now?”
“… Somewhere,” Marianne said. “He must be somewhere in this strange, ancient world.”
“You mean he’s still in here somewhere? Alive?”
“I know he is… he has to be. I refuse to believe that he died in a place like this. I refuse to… move on until I know for sure. Even when he was twice the age of some of the younger folk, he was still twice the man. He’s out there somewhere…”
Of course, Stenn realized. A ghost was bound to the world of the living so long as something, or sometimes someone, held them there. Desire of all kinds served as an anchor for the spirits of the undead. It’s their sole purpose to linger on to fulfill that desire…
“He’s probably dead,” Anna said, her voice low and gentle for once. “I mean, we were almost killed more than a few times in this madhouse and we couldn’t have been here for more than a day.”
… and to insult that desire will undoubtedly have some consequences, Stenn thought.
“He is not,” Marianne said. “He cannot be.”
“You’ll need to move on,” Anna insisted. For a moment, Stenn thought she was about to reach out to try to touch Marianne. However, the Lady Ennet tried to shy away, her hands starting to cover her eyes as if she had a headache.
“Anna,” Stenn edged, trying to push her as gently as he could away from Marianne. “I know he’s alive as well. That old man is nothing but determined.”
“Are you serious?” Anna asked, her tone more serious. “Stenn, if Lord Ennet’s even older than you, how do you think he’s managed to last this long? You even wondered yourself how he thought he could make it down here. Whether or not he’s ‘twice the man’ that everybody else is doesn’t change any of that.”
That was different, Stenn thought. That was before I knew I’d have to tell his loving wife the same thing.
“I will wait for him,” Marianne whispered, her shoulders starting to hunch.
The lump in Stenn’s throat returned. It would have pained him to see Marianne like this even if she was alive. It was no better with her being dead. Anna had a point. It was amazing that Ennet managed to make the journey this deep into Garamoush’s shell at all, but if he truly was lost and alone out there, he was almost certainly dead. And yet…Every time Stenn thought of the man who
had helped to give him his new life and had been his ally for decades dying alone somewhere in the long dark of Garamoush’s shell, he couldn’t accept it either.
“Trust me,” Anna said, “I know what it’s like to not want to believe. It’s not worth lying to yourself so you can feel better. Or, you can just go on trying to pick flowers if you want.”
“Insolent child!” Marianne shouted, her arms flailing outward. Her form shifted and shook like a cloud preparing to release a storm. “I have defied death to see him again! Why do you think you have any jurisdiction over me?!”
She isn’t just a ghost, Stenn realized to his horror, she is a Banshee.
…Broken echoes
Of wailing voices and fate lament
Haunt the halls of Earth
‘Till the sun is spent…
Stenn was quick to come between Anna and Marianne, his arms outstretched. It was all falling to hell around him and his body moved as if it was a castle wall, intent on keeping two forces of nature from colliding. “Anna-” He started.
Anna ducked underneath Stenn’s arm and sprinted away from him before he could react. “Shut up, old man! You’re not helping!”
…Touch her not
Her touch is naught
Life can hold no candle
To the cold that death has brought…
Marianne’s rage was quickly climbing to a fever pitch. Her form had become blood red in color and torrents of wind lashed about like whips. The air itself was becoming spiked and hostile. All of the horrors of Garamoush’s shell and the Ministry of Fate and His Greatness were nothing but old scars and bruises in Stenn’s mind, but to see his old friend in such agony was a fresh new kind of wound altogether, one that dug deeper with searing pain and heedless strength. Stenn’s old legs had started to shake.
“Lady Ennet,” Anna shouted over the din, her voice clear and calm, “nobody’s worth waiting an eternity for. This is no way to live… if you can even want to call it that. Even if your husband is alive out there somewhere, why do you think he’s never come back to try to find you? If he isn’t dead, then he still gave up on you. Don’t wait and wish forever just to be disappointed.”
“You speak as if you know,” It sounded like Marianne had exchanged her words for fire. “How could somebody so young know what it’s like to linger and hope? To damn the rest of the world, the world that has wronged you? Why are you here if not to try to take your loved ones back?”
Do not try to console
Eternity is her endless sea
Her grief is beyond relief
She is sorrow
She is the Banshee
“I know they’re dead,” Anna shouted. “I saw them die. And I see them die again every time I sleep at night. I’m here for the living. I’m here for the chance to make something out of all of this.”
“Then what am I to do?” Marianne wailed, her flailing arms passing right through her body. “How can I touch life when I cannot even touch the dead?”
“You already have, you old crone,” Anna said, her sarcasm not exactly finding a willing recipient. “You’ve already helped your old friend here. You’ve given him a chance to speak to you one more time. Imagine if he up and died and never got this chance? What if he lingered on for eternity? Waiting for somebody who would never come?”
Marianne’s seething anger calmed to a slow boil, then a simmer, than it fell to only tepid discontent. The red color drained from her form and she sighed like the weight of the world was rolling off of her shoulders.
“Perhaps,” she echoed, “Perhaps…” Marianne turned like the changing of an autumnal wind. She floated past the ruined white buildings, her head hanging low. She turned to Stenn and Anna one last time and said something Stenn couldn’t quite catch. She pointed towards the farthest stone building, looking Stenn in the eyes as she did so. Then she nodded. Her form quivered and glowed, then it scattered into the air like fog.
“Lord Ennet has interesting tastes in women,” Anna said as if she was making a remark about a funny-looking cloud.
Anna’s bluntness snapped Stenn back into the present. The present in which he had his one, fated, final chance to say goodbye… and he botched it.
Stenn nodded and wordlessly walked, shoulders slumping, with Anna to the building Marianne had indicated. As always, Anna had stayed just a few steps ahead. Though they were both quiet on the outside, Stenn knew that both his and Anna’s thoughts were trumpeting in full force. The young woman, almost unbelievably, had lost none of the energy to her steps, despite the events she just witnessed.
I’ll bet she’s just happy to finally have a real heading and a real chance to complete her task.
Meanwhile, Stenn’s own head was filled with a raging thunderstorm in its own right- each new thought virtually incomprehensible from the last, but they all carried the same thick and heavy gloom all the same.
The building was really no different than any of the others Stenn had seen. He was put a bit more at ease when he didn’t see any of the strange carvings tarnishing its clean white walls. On the inside a large table and collection shelves made from dark wood quietly announced themselves as being the only noteworthy fixtures. Even the wool awning was missing, possibly to facilitate better reading in the omnipresent light.
The shelves were loaded with tomes and rolls of parchment of every size and state of decay. Stenn had seen similar shelves of knowledge in the Granite Citadel, but they were always perfectly, if not a bit anally, organized. The contents of this small study were strewn every which way as if the person using it had to leave in a great hurry.
“Maps,” Anna said with some excitement as she pulled a few rolls of the aged parchment off the shelves. “Bloody Hell, Stenn. They’re all maps. And you said curtogrophers-“
“Cartographers,” Stenn corrected.
“Cartographers,” Anna repeated with some obvious difficulty, “You said they had no reason to be here.”
At least we’re not the only ones who don’t belong here, Stenn thought as he wearily gathered up and scanned through some of the other documents as Anna rounded up the maps that seemed to strike her fancies the strongest. Not even his love of old documents and lore made an impact on the quagmire of Stenn’s mind.
Anna had chosen four of the maps, all wrapped with identical lengths of red string. The way she was hovering over the table, investigating her finds, she looked like a general surveying the land of a battle-to-be.
“Was there an ulterior motive… uh,” Stenn moved to clarify as anticipated Anna’s confusion, “a hidden reason for doing what you did?”
“These maps are a bonus, Stenn,” Anna said. “Even I have standards.”
Stenn nodded. “Of course. Sorry for doubting you.”
“It’s hardly a new occurrence,” Anna said with a dry chuckle.
Four maps were unrolled across the table. Two of them showed the shape of Garamoush’s shell and were both identical, even down to the ink splattering and changes to various names and locations of hollows.
“Damn,” Anna said, leaning over Stenn’s shoulder. “Color me impressed. Lord Ennet knows his stuff.”
“Or somebody he brought with him does,” Stenn said. “I never knew Samuel to be a lover of maps, let alone a maker of them. Then again, it seems I don’t know quite a few things about him.” Still, it seemed more likely to Stenn that Ennet would have merely collected the maps rather than made him by himself.
“That’s us,” said Anna, pointing excitedly at the dome-like shape near the bottom of the map. They were practically resting on Garamoush’s body proper from where they stood. It was hard to gauge distance just by using the map when His shell was almost impossibly large, but Stenn couldn’t deny that he and Anna had come a very long way since first entering. It was no wonder Stenn’s body felt drained to the point of numbness.
“Do you see the Wellspring anywhere?” Anna asked, impatience starting to edge into her voice.
Stenn sca
nned the map and all its identical copies. He figured that something as important as the Wellspring would have been marked in the clearest way possible, but nothing immediately stood out to him. Both documents were identical in every way, but none of them yielded even the slightest hint of the Wellspring’s location.
The map makers did, however, mark with obvious paths more than a few ways both into and out of His shell. Where to access them, how Garamoush had to be lying, even rough travel time was all laid out. Stenn knew that Anna was looking everywhere but at them, so Stenn made notes in his head for the both of them.
When Stenn looked back at Anna, she was staring with worried eyes at where Stenn had just been looking. Her gaze followed the same escape routes that Stenn had traced out. She looked up at Stenn with the same worried eyes.
Anna shook the look off and hardened her expression. She almost angrily jammed her finger down onto the map where a large ink blot sat. “It’s there. The Wellspring is there.”
“I thought that was just a mistake,” Stenn said. “Just ink that fell on the page.”
“It’s a pretty consistent mistake to make. It’s on all of the maps. And look,” she continued, her finger tracing across the paths and caves. “Look how close the smudges all are to His neck.” She looked at Stenn with a hopeful, almost pleading expression, “you said that’s where it is, right?”
Stenn frowned. “That’s where the legends say it is. Take that for what it’s worth.” Which, as it turns out, may not be worth very much at all.
Anna looked resolute, though, her brow furrowing. “No,” she said. “That’s our heading. If it’s not anywhere else, it’s got to be there.” She bit down on her knuckle. “It’s got to be.” She reached for the inkwell and quill that sat on the far end of the table and started to mark out paths on the old map.
As Anna began to take her hand to the maps of Garamoush, Stenn started to turn his attention to another pair of maps which happened to be of the whole country of Garaheim. The credo of the Ministry was written beneath the name of the land.
No more kings
No more lives
Of great men and women
And false gods
Only His words
Only His guidance
Stenn put his thoughts into the parchment and ink, if only to bring his mind away from the ghosts that were haunting it. His finger and eyes followed the rivers running southward from His Shore down to the city of Oxfield. The plains to the town’s west were almost vacant aside from a spattering of abandoned castle ruins and the lonely more modern manor house that had sprung up to replace the old lordly holdings. Stenn quickly jumped to the Ennet family’s Staringsun Manor, as if he half expected it to be just a figment of his imagination- a phantom fragment that may or may not have ever even been real. But there it was, with the small town of Smallslip-on-the-Hills living in its shadow.
When he found the quiet Dehry Township nestled in the southeastern forested hills, Stenn felt a flare of energy within him. It gave a small gasp of life to his old bones. That was his home now- his home so beautifully far away from the Ministry’s Granite Citadel. It was the home he was going to be returning to. There would be no stopping him.
Stenn turned his attention to the other map. He couldn’t quite place it, but something felt… off about this one. On its surface, it looked exactly as it should. It was an almost perfect copy of the other map down to the quality of the penmanship and the thickness of the lines. Almost. The manors were gone, replaced by the old castles, cities were smaller, and some towns simply didn’t exist. Even the sacred ruins of Harbiton were represented as a still-standing city.
The Granite Citadel… Stenn thought. He started to look for the enormous building but there was only vacant hilly space where it should have been. Curiously, the name of Garaheim was missing from the map as well. The Ministry had given the land its name after it became the sole governing body after Garamoush made landfall. Instead, borders were drawn, creating places labeled as the Northern, Western, Eastern, and Southern Strains. Stenn raised his eyebrows at that. The old kingdoms before Garamoush’s arrival were hardly ever mentioned by name in the histories. The Ministry wasn’t keen on letting people know that they weren’t always the ones in power.
“Well damn,” Stenn said, “take a look at this.”
Anna appeared at Stenn’s side and leaned over the table. Her eyes ran about the map for a moment. “What am I supposed to be seeing?” she asked.
“History, Anna,” Stenn said. “A map like this one doesn’t even exist inside of the Ministry. Do you notice anything missing?” While Anna tried to answer his question, Stenn noticed that the two maps were almost identical, minus the two very large emissions. The coast of the sea still sat to the east, the deltas still held farming villages, and manors and cities were perched like birds of prey atop the many hills and plateaus of the countryside.
“Where’s Garamoush?” Anna asked.
“Where indeed?” Stenn pointed to where His Shore would eventually come to be. It was still nothing but a coastline with high cliffs overlooking the roughest parts of the sea.
Anna looked up at Stenn. He could see in her eyes that she desperately wanted to get back to her own searching, but curiosity was starting to pull her away. “The Granite Citadel is gone too,” she said, pointing to the foothills where the enormous grey citadel sat in the present. “This map was made before Garamoush even came ashore for the first time.”
Stenn nodded. “The Granite Citadel was put up before Garamoush even went to sleep. So, this map’s over two hundred years old.”
“Hmm,” Anna said. She humoured Stenn for a few more seconds, looking over the map, and then said, “Am I done here?”
“Oh, just go,” Stenn said with a smirk.
He turned back to the map and hid his frown with his hand. That kind of map was something that the Ministry not only frowned upon, but also something they likely would have destroyed if they got the chance. The Ministry’s leadership was none too fond of it being public knowledge that not only was Garamoush not always humanity’s guardian, but also that the Ministry was not the sole governing body of the land.
And yet, here it was a heretical document in a heretical settlement that was once filled with heretical people.
I certainly have ended up in some odd places in my life.
Stenn couldn’t deny his curiosity, so he went about delving into some of the older tomes. He passed through them quickly, his attention span only strong enough to give illustrations any kind of thought. Still, quite a few things in the old books struck him. There were schematics for pairs of the climbing gauntlets and boots as well as a very strange design for what looked like a tall stone pillar covered in faces.
The latter illustration was in a larger, frustratingly unnamed book that featured other, stranger illustrations of an enormous man with large wings and the head of a bird. That particular book was one of the most neglected Stenn had seen. Even the writing on the pages was faded and some of the illustrations were almost unintelligible. Still, the magnificence of the bird man told Stenn that it was once some kind of a god.
A book about a god inside of another god... I wonder what Garamoush would think of this.
Then a thought struck Stenn. He pushed the map to the side and began to leaf through the various tomes on the shelves, resisting the impulse to read deeper into each and every one. He was looking for very specific words, words written by a man who was either an enemy of the Ministry or simply not afraid of them.
Wellspring, Stenn read, finally. A thin, flimsy tome with no appearance of particular importance was the first to mention Garamoush’s Wellspring by name. It was also, contrary to all that Stenn expected, not in a song, ballad, or legend. Instead, he found the word nestled in a multi-page theory.
“A theory of how to open the door…” Stenn said aloud.
Stenn was nearly knocked over by the force of Anna colliding into him.
“What, reall
y? Where is it? What’s it say? How do we do it?”
“Land’s sake, girl, calm down,” Stenn said as he righted himself. “Firstly, is the map ready to go?”
Anna nodded vigorously, trying to crane her neck to look at the thin old book.
“Including the paths out?”
Anna nodded again, but much more slowly this time. Stenn frowned, but ignored the discomfort he saw in her eyes.
“Well,” Stenn said, laying the book out on the table, “it’s only a theory, remember. This may or may not work at all. Although, I suspect you don’t really care about that.”
Anna was quiet for once, giving Stenn the space to continue.
“It’s quite simple, actually,” Stenn said. “It says here that either Garamoush chooses to let you into the Wellspring, or He does not. Meaning, you either get in, or you don’t. It’s not really up to you, me, or anybody else. In the end, it’s Garamoush Himself who gets to decide.”
“It’s just a theory,” Anna grumbled, crouching up onto a nearby stool and gathering up her maps. She rolled up the two edited maps of Garamoush and bound them with twine.
“Just a theory…” Stenn echoed. He turned to the front of the book, looking for the author’s name. There was probably something more legible there before, but the only thing that remained was “Fre----k of Har---on.” The name, if it could still be called one, wasn’t the slightest bit familiar to Stenn, so he let it pass.
Looking at Anna now, bunched down on bended knees, Stenn thought that she might have jumped up then and chased after that appointed spot like a charging horse. He was quicker in standing up, though.
“But before any of that…” he said.
Anna looked up at him, her lip being bit in obvious impatience. There was still a flicker of anger in her eyes. Stenn couldn’t place where it came from or where it was directed, but it was there nonetheless.
Stenn pointed towards the shadowed corner of the building. The bedroll didn’t look like the most comfortable he had ever seen, but in his time protecting Ministry pilgrims and traveling Declarers, he had gone weeks with only the earth as bedding. When Anna spotted it too, her eyes and shoulders seemed to slump in anticipation.
“But we’re so close,” she said, looking up at Stenn like a hungry dog.
“Close to collapsing,” Stenn said.
The two locked eyes for a moment, Stenn feeling patient. He could see the sleepiness radiate out from the young woman. Her whole body seemed to be getting pulled to the floor.
Anna yawned first.
“Ha,” Stenn laughed. Then he too yawned. “See? What good would it be to speak to Garamoush if you’re falling asleep mid-sentence?”
“It’s not far,” Anna said again, remaining defiant.
“And it won’t be getting any further away,” Stenn said.
Anna sighed, her eyes looking from the bed to Stenn to the map to her new pair of leather boots. They didn’t look like they had been properly broken in yet- they stood out in stark contrast to their wearer. Anna stood, her knees popping like they were as old as Stenn’s. She wordlessly walked over to the bed and gently collapsed on it. She coiled up like a cat, nestling herself into the furthest corner of the structure.
“I’m not used to all this,” Anna said, slowly sprawling out across the straw and blankets. “There wasn’t very much room in the orphanage.”
“More than one to a bed?” Stenn asked.
Anna nodded.
Stenn chuckled. “We’re in the same boat, then. When I was training to be a Knight there was never enough beds for us all. Then again, after twelve hours of punching, shouting, and getting punched and shouted at, most of us didn’t much care. But I eventually just forwent the bed altogether. At least when you sleep on the ground you don’t have somebody elbowing you in the eye.”
Anna rolled on to her back. “I remember when I tried that,” her voice trailed off. “It was the first night I was in the orphanage in Oxfield after my parents died. Hanged. They threw stones at their bodies.” Anna ground her teeth loud enough for Stenn to overhear. He thought he was going to have to steer her off of the path of her spiraling mood. But, she stopped herself, closing her eyes for a moment. “The first night, I just slept on the floor, I couldn’t bear to be near anybody then. I walked all the way to the far side of the room, away from everybody else. But then, I couldn’t sleep. I just felt like walking more. So I walked right out the door and tried to run away. I don’t even know where I ran to, come to think of it. Maybe I was looking for my brother, Aiden. I don’t know. But eventually, I came to a field. It was huge. Huge and flat. That hollow with all the grass makes me think of it, actually.
“Well, the only thing that stood out was a tree. A big, old, gnarled tree. I decided to sleep there that night. I thought it would keep me safe, safe from the Ministry, from the keepers of the orphanage, from the stones and the ugly shits who threw them.” Anna sighed, shaking her head. “That was stupid, of course. I chose to sleep under the most obvious landmark for miles. The search party found me before sunrise. I guess I should have been flattered that they came looking for me at all. But, for a while, it was just me, the tree, and all of the stars in the world.” Anna reached out, as if he was trying to grasp at the stars she was remembering. “I thought that my brother was somewhere in the world, but I just didn’t know where. But I knew, I knew, without any doubt that if I could just get up to the stars, I could see everything. I could see the whole world. There was no way I could miss him, then.”
“That’s very noble of you,” Stenn commented. He wouldn’t wish Anna’s life on anybody, but if only all youth were so ingrained with purpose but still so alive with fantasy, the world would only be made brighter as a result. Eym’s the same way, Stenn thought. Maybe not as cynical about it all, but that spark of wonder is there. Stenn nearly smiled. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about show you those stars, Eym. I promised you and your mother, didn’t I?
“Stupid, more like,” Anna said. But even after they dragged me back to the orphanage, I was flailing and screaming like a fish yanked from water. I wanted those stars so badly, to stand on top of one and look down on everything. Like a god.”
“Like a god,” Stenn echoed. He wondered if Garamoush ever wanted such things, such impossible things. Or maybe He just wanted to live the life of a human for once. There was probably a certain charm in sleeping for less than a century as well as having people simply leave you alone as you slept rather than always rambling and praying to you.
Anna balled herself up again and rolled to face away from Stenn. “There, that’s another little part of my story. I never told anybody else that before.”
“Not your friends at the orphanage?”
Anna snorted. “There were no friends there. Still, I guess I regret having stolen from them.”
“You stole from them?” Stenn asked. He felt a little bad having always suspected Anna of thievery, but it hardly did him any good to hear that he had been right all along.
“You think they just give out knives and leather boots to orphans?” Anna asked. “Oh well. I got a laugh out of doing it; they’ll miss their stuff more than they’ll miss me.”
“You did what you had to,” Stenn admitted.
“Mhmm,” Anna said. “I tried to make friends, I really did. But I ended up with people I just hated less than others.”
“Wow,” Stenn said, chuckling, “you must really not hate me.”
“I guess I don’t,” Anna said. Stenn didn’t know if she was trying to hide a smile on purpose. Stenn contented himself, though, thinking that she was. Stenn yawned then sprawled out on the straw. “What about Garamoush?” Anna asked. “What if I ask Him to help me find my brother and He just tells me to… go home? Go back to the orphanage and forget I was ever here.”
“The thing about gods,” Stenn said, “as I understand them at least, is that they’re supposed to be smarter than us. If He really is a god, I wager He wouldn’t say something so s
tupid, something so human, to you.”
Anna was silent for a moment then said, “What did you say your surname was?”
“Fenner.”
“I didn’t know Bartholomew Fenner had a son.”
Stenn chuckled. “He doesn’t. I’m just his son-in-law. I didn’t even have a surname until I married his daughter. How do you know him?”
“He was… nice to us at the orphanage. I heard that he gave a lot of his money as charity to keep the place running.” Anna’s fingers started to idly twiddle and her feet started to flap about, apparently in discomfort. “So I’m glad that, out of all people in the world, I have a Fenner here with me, even if you’re not one by birth. If old Bartholomew accepts you as a part of his family, that’s still something.”
Yes, Stenn thought, yes it certainly is. It was a day neither Tania nor I ever thought would come. The old man could hardly get enough of him now and he had taken to Eym like a flower takes to the sun. Honestly, the man seemed a mite less ancient and weary every time his family was near- all of his family. The promise Stenn made to his daughter ran through his mind again. It felt like a fresh wood being added to a smoldering fire.
“My daughter told me to do the Fenner family proud before I went to go search for you. I suppose I’ve satisfied those wishes of hers. She’s about half your age, maybe a bit more, in case you’re curious.”
Anna just nodded. “Stenn?” she asked, still not turning to him.
“Hmm?”
“Can you tell me the legend of Cross-Eyed William?”
Anna looked at him then, her big brown eyes full of equal amounts of doubt and hope. He had seen those same eyes before. He saw the in Eym on His shore as she doubted even her own place in life and her destiny. But Stenn didn’t think that Anna needed him like Eym did. Anna didn’t need saving or guiding. She only needed a voice to encourage her and a friendly presence to stand behind her. He could be both those things, he thought.
“I thought you said you heard it already,” he said.
“I have. I just… want to hear it again.”
Stenn smiled again. Somehow, this felt different than the usual bedtime stories Stenn would give to little Eym. He knew his daughter listened to hear her father talk and to hear the stories he told. But Anna was different, different from so many others. When Stenn saw her he saw the soul of a heroine in a young woman’s body. These stories weren’t just stories to her. They were an inspiration. Hope to try, Stenn remembered her telling him. “Of course,” he said, “I know it by heart, you know.”
“Don’t gloat, old man,” Anna said.
Stenn began the recitation, starting at the boy’s birth and the mule kick to the head that crossed his eyes. The story flowed easily from his mouth and he soon found himself simply making up the parts he couldn’t remember or parts he didn’t think were interesting enough. As he spoke, he didn’t feel like he was deep in the shell of a god. He felt warm, content, in good company. For a moment, it felt gratifyingly close to normality.
Then, what seemed like only a moment later, Stenn’s world became dark as he collapsed back onto his bed.
Part 4