On the second day after the gargoyle attack, they emerged from the western edge of the Mietha and entered the desolate landscape outside of Starhold.
The dry air made Catherine cough. It seemed to suck the moisture from her body, and burned like invisible fire as it entered her lungs.
Azela gazed at the amber sky as they walked across the sandy remains of a grove. Petrified trees twisted across the land like a vast black web. Their bark had turned to a glassy black mineral. Skeletons of animals littered their path. There were so many of them, and many had died facing the same direction, as though they had all been fleeing the same thing before meeting an abrupt end. Catherine reluctantly removed her smoldering jacket as soon as she could no longer stand the heat.
"Why is the sky like that? And what happened to the trees?" Azela asked, unconcerned with the temperature.
Catherine wiped the sweat from her body and flung her jacket back on as they stepped into a pocket of freezing air. "'Twas the myst." She shivered at the sudden shift. "It warps the land, the air, the world itself. I assume most of the valleys are like this, or worse. There, you can't see it. But here? The sea breezes have pushed the myst inland, leaving the distortion behind." She looked to Azela. "By the way, where'd you get that towel?"
Azela removed the black towel from around her neck and studied it. "I found it on the shore when we passed through that creek yesterday. I didn't see anyone, so it must've been forgotten." She held it out to Catherine. "What do you think that symbol means?"
Catherine examined the silver imprint carefully. It had been stitched with a precision that felt ceremonial. "Now that is bizarre. 'Tis the symbol of Goddess Reizu."
"As in the dragon Reizu?" Azela's voice lifted.
"Yeah, the same. She's also known as the God-Dragon of Destruction, Reimetsu, Risuna, Risumet, and others. It depends on what religion you belong to. She's the opposite of Rea, the God-Dragon of Creation that my temple worshipped. Reizu's sister is the Devil-Dragon, Sierra. But religion is just history warped by imagination. There's no such thing as gods." Catherine kicked a skull out of her way; it skipped twice across the dry ground before coming to rest against a petrified root.
Azela danced lithely around the bones in her way. "You say that, but I still hear you asking Rea for stuff, sometimes."
Catherine looked away. "That is just an old habit I'm trying to break."
"Also," the glitch added, "I actually saw one, with my own eyes."
"Ah, that Ayan creature that pulled you from the water." Catherine carefully avoided the remains of a fossilized scorpion. "You know, I don't think he counts. He's powerful, but from what you told me, he only seems to be a god because the glitchen simply decided to call him one. With that logic, anything could be a god."
Azela looked up again as a large raven glided overhead. It moved effortlessly through the dead air, the only living thing in any direction, watching them with patient disinterest.
She said, "I believe in gods, in some form. Some memory in the back of my mind keeps kicking at the door but won't come in. Something about the dragon Reizu. It's like… I knew her once. Not as a worshiper knows a goddess, but as one person knows another."
"Perhaps you knew someone with a similar name. Or you're on the path to becoming insane." Catherine's tone was dry as the air.
Azela smiled. "And does this path lead through myst and horrors and beasts made of stone? If so, I'm pretty sure you're the one leading the way."
Catherine elbowed her affectionately.
Azela tied the towel around her waist. They continued across the lifeless terrain in silence. The quiet here was a different kind than the forest quiet they had grown used to. That had been full of small sounds beneath the surface. This was just absence. No wind. No insects. No distant rustle of something moving through undergrowth. Just the soft drag of their own footsteps and the sound of breathing. A silence Catherine had experienced before.
Azela watched as red clouds drifted in the yellowish-brown sky. As the sun rose higher, the sky grew more yellow and a rainbow spread itself into a distorted arch. It was still beautiful, even though the colors were wrong.
The dry air became drier as the scorched earth began to burn their feet. Soon they walked up a large, barren hill of sand, and felt both relief and dread waiting for them on the other side. There was the village, made up of worn buildings and crumbling cobblestone streets, blanketed in unnatural darkness.
From somewhere near its center, a distant trail of smoke rose and disappeared into the amber haze above. Someone, or something, was already there.
* * *
It seemed as if night had come again, though it was far too early. A cold darkness, like black fog, enveloped them as soon as they entered the village. "Is this the myst?" Azela asked.
"No, this is something different," Catherine replied. "Magic of some kind, probably meant to mimic it. It feels artificial."
The fog was so thick that seeing farther than a few feet was impossible. What they could see, though, were spears lining the streets, partially buried so that they remained upright. Atop each was a humanoid skull, some better preserved than others. A few still had scraps of dried flesh clinging to them. One had something small nesting in its eye socket, and the faint rustle of movement inside it was the only sound on the street.
The skulls faced the direction of anyone who entered the village, inadvertently showing Catherine and Azela how to reach its center.
Azela didn't really need them. She could smell and hear a mass of people hidden somewhere ahead. Among them was the smell of many things on fire. If given the time, she could find them easily, but without the skulls, Catherine could have been lost in the darkness for hours.
Following these skulls led them to a dancing flame. It appeared first as a smear of orange in the black, trembling like something alive, then grew steadily as they walked toward it, throwing thin ribbons of warmth against the cold. This mysterious light revealed itself to be a dangerously tall bonfire as they moved in closer, and soon they found life in what should have been a derelict village.
The bonfire that roared in the village's center may have seemed welcoming, but the many who surrounded it paid little attention to the newcomers. People of all shapes, sizes, and races quietly wandered about, looking for places to stand or sit in some sort of gathering. The only thing these inhabitants seemed to have in common was how ragged they appeared. By their dress and manner, Catherine took them to be outcasts and hunted men, people pushed by poverty into thievery and murder. She had seen their type before in Misyrea, praying to Rea for second chances.
Weapons were worn openly, but Azela's sharp eyes noticed concealed ones as well. A woman near the fire had a blade tucked flat against the inside of her forearm, hidden under a fraying sleeve. Two men standing apart from the group wore their suspiciously bulging coats buttoned despite the heat of the fire. Some others were so large and muscular that she doubted that they would need a blade to be deadly.
Catherine handed her knife to Azela. "Try to blend in for now," she whispered.
A speaker took his place in front of the group and gave an obviously memorized speech about community and working together. His tone was practiced, and it carried a quality that reminded Catherine of temple sermons.
The crowd's attention wandered, but no one gave them any suspicious glances. It seemed as if they might be able to avoid notice after all. They moved around the crowd, gradually attempting to reach the other side without appearing suspicious.
This was an idea they discussed when they realized Starhold was inhabited; if they could find the port without drawing attention to themselves, then perhaps they could steal a small ship or stow away.
But then the speaker looked directly at the girls. "We have some new visitors to our fair village," he announced, "Would the two young ladies that drifted here tonight please come forward?"
The crowd split, giving them a straight path to the speaker. Catherine cast a meaningful look at Azela. She responded with a nod. The inhabitants knew they were there the whole time, but waited until they had reached this inescapable position before pretending to notice them. The whole show had been a trap, and they had walked into it. Reluctantly, they stepped up to the speaker and were guided onto the stage.
"Pardon my rudeness," the speaker said with a bow. He had the fakest smile that either of them had ever seen, and he smelled like rotten meat. "But would you mind telling us who you are and why you are here? I must warn you that any wrong answer would end your lives. Our sharpshooters could kill you long before any weapons are drawn."
Catherine thought out her words carefully. Her gaze passed over the people who had taken refuge here. No matter what she said, it was unlikely to spare her from the murderous intent in each of their eyes. Somewhere in the nearby buildings, she heard the strain of bowstrings. However, part of her training for the priesthood included how to speak to the public and convince them of the truth of her words, so all hope wasn't lost.
But before Catherine could think of what to say, Azela blurted out, "Hi! My name is Azela, I'm a glitch, and this is my friend, Kitty. She's sapien. Nice to meet you! We're going to Pandoria. Sorry about barging in like this, I hope we didn't inconvenience you. Could you help us find a ship, please?" Her question was met with laughter from the crowd. "Was that a wrong answer?"
The speaker grinned, saying, "Travelers, eh? We don't receive many travelers out here. Unfortunately, the only ships that come here are pirate ships, and since we're in need of any valuables we can acquire, and so many of us can't risk this hideaway being discovered, those who wander in uninvited never leave this village alive."
Azela rapidly snatched an arrow from the air, just before it could reach Catherine's head. The shaft still trembled with momentum. A heartbeat of silence passed before the second one whizzed past in a near miss. The crowd began to cautiously move toward them, keeping the area open enough for archers to fire but closing any gaps their victims might escape through. More arrows began to rain down, each coming within inches of their targets. Catching one arrow was remarkable; stopping them all would be impossible. As one grazed her leg, Catherine pulled the speaker in front of them and used him as a human shield. Azela crouched behind her.
Catherine yelled at Azela over the sound of arrows piercing the man's body, "From now on, I'll be the one that speaks for the both of us!"
"I don't think they ever cared what we had to say," Azela said as the arrows stopped. The crowd crept closer. Dropping the speaker's now porcupine-like body, Catherine grabbed Azela's wrist and prepared to run, but found that there was no way to escape. Armed killers surrounded them on three sides, and behind them was the massive bonfire. "Looks like we're cooked," Catherine said despairingly, dropping Azela's arm. She had to use both hands to clumsily draw her oversized sword. The crowd closed in slowly but confidently. The bonfire roared, throwing a gust of heat that made Catherine's eyes water. "So, do you want to die fighting or by fire?" she asked Azela, then looked down, taking a deep breath. The heat from the bonfire pressed against her back. The crowd was close. "There's something I want to say to you before we die. Azela, I'm sorry for everything, and I... I think I—"
"Do you trust me?" Azela asked suddenly.
Catherine didn't have time to answer before Azela threw their pack into the crowd and picked her up. Holding Catherine in her arms, she suddenly turned toward the fire and ran.
At the edge of the flames, she leapt into the air, and they felt a rush of heat surround them as they flew into the blaze. The fire was enormous and total, a wall of white and gold that swallowed all sound for a single terrible moment. As they landed on the other side, singed but surprisingly unhurt, Catherine said between coughs, "You truly are crazy!"
Azela set her on her feet. They ran together, with Azela letting Catherine take the lead. More arrows sped past them as they followed the skulls out of the village.
Something was wrong, Azela realized, but Catherine didn't seem to notice. The smell was different in the direction they ran. This wasn't the same way they had come.
Instead of running out into the wasteland, they emerged from the streets to find a harbor. The salty smell of ocean water permeated the air. The fog thinned here, pulled apart by a wind off the water, and the cobblestones gave way to warped wooden planking that groaned softly under their feet. Here the darkness ended, and they could see one large sailing vessel docked nearby. Thinking quickly, Catherine led Azela to the ship.
As soon as the two climbed onto the deck, Catherine pulled out the hidden pistol from her pocket and fired it once into the air. The deafening boom caught the crew’s attention instantly. Then, over the ringing in her ears, she shouted, "We're taking over this ship!"
Bearded men with striped shirts and bandanas drew their own pistols and cutlasses in response.
For a moment, Catherine just stood there, holding a sword in one hand that was too heavy to be used one-handed and a mostly empty pistol in the other, completely outnumbered and outgunned. She had no further plans or ideas.
"And just who might you be?" said a large man with a red beard. His wooden leg knocked on the floor loudly as he walked forward.
A young man jumped from a sail and landed between the two. "It's alright, captain, they're friends of mine," he said to the large man, then looked at the angry crowd that emerged from the village. "It looks like they ran into trouble and are a bit desperate. We should leave port now."
"Any friend of my son is a friend of mine!" said the captain, then he turned and started booming orders to his crew.
As the ship set sail, Azela looked carefully at the one who spoke on their behalf. "Hey, I know you!" she said, "You're Five's friend!"
He struck a pose and smiled. "The name's Lance, but I never got yours. And who's this cutie?"
"I'm Azela, and this is Kitty. Thanks for the help," she said.
Catherine put away her weapons and crossed her arms. "My name is Catherine," she corrected.
Lance walked closer to them and said quietly, "Follow me, if you will. I believe a brief discussion is in order."
An arrow stuck into the hull, and was quickly answered by the gunshots of the crew. The surviving occupants of Starhold retreated into the village. "I never liked this port anyway," said the captain. The crew cheered in agreement.
Lance led the two girls into his private quarters and closed the door. Then he sat on his bed and looked at Azela. "First off, as I've just spared your hide a skinning for the second time, I believe a debt is owed. So for the few words I've given, I ask for a bit of silence. All that I wish from you is a promise not to tell anyone of my specifically glitchen qualities. I don't want to risk alienating myself from this sapien crew by not appearing to be as mundane as they."
"Believe me, I won't tell anybody," said Azela.
"What qualities?" Catherine asked.
"Oh, he has red wings and a tail on his back, or, at least he used to..." she answered without hesitation. "What happened to them?"
Lance groaned. "So be it. I would not have your fair companion think you make a mockery of her," he said, drawing his shirt over his head."
The wings slowly emerged as if rising from impossible depths of his body. "I need to stretch them anyway." They filled the room. A breath of displaced air swept across Catherine's face as they opened. As she reached out to stroke a feather, he looked at her sternly. "I'm going out on a limb to trust you, but as long as you're on this ship, your lives are in my hands," he said
Catherine gave no answer. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and her lips parted in a quiet smile.