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Authors: AB Bradley

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BOOK: Ashwalk Pilgrim
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“Ashwalk!” Gia’s eyes finally darted from her lap. They focused on Olessa with a desperate, hopeful glimmer shining deep within them. “Let Mara take the ashwalk. It is a right of every mother whose newborn draws no breath on the holiest day of the year.”

Madame Olessa stared blankly at Gia. She blinked and burst into laughter, waving at the maiden like the woman was a silly child. “Ashwalk? Mara? The girl hasn’t been to Sollan in ages. She’s probably never even seen Upper Sollan, let alone Hightable or the temples. Some beggar would slit her throat and take her maiden collar as soon as she stepped on shore.”

Mara’s gaze bounced back and forth between the two women. “What is this ashwalk? Gia, if this will help my child, I will do it. I will do it a hundred thousand times over until the last stars die.”

“See?” Gia flashed her brows. “Please, for Mara, let her make the ashwalk. She is of no use to you tonight anyway. She is…she is a burden on your books. Let her do what the Burning Mother requires of those who birth stillborn children on this night.”

“What is an ashwalk?” Mara asked.

Olessa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She turned her back to Mara and faced the glittering sea. “It is a very old tradition of the Burning Mother’s, and one I am loathe to let you honor because you will never succeed.”
 

The woman shook her head. Her wig’s curls bounced over her shoulders. “But I do fear what might happen should you not at least try to save his soul.”

“Save his soul?”

Madame Olessa turned to Mara and nodded. “All stillborn children have a soul, but since they never took their first breath, their body is a prison for their spirit. That cursed fool of a brother of mine. Damn him for making me love the Six so much.”

Gia turned to Mara and placed a hand lightly on her knee. “She speaks true, Mara. His soul is trapped. It is so rare for stillborns on harvest, I had forgotten the ritual, but I remember my father telling me of it.”

“Is it—is it true? Is his soul really trapped? I must take this walk to save it?”

Olessa’s features hardened. “I wouldn’t stick my finger in the Mother’s eye if I were you, and I’ll be damned to dine on ash for eternity before that child’s curse turns my profits into penance for my property’s heresy.”

You are trapped
, Mara thought. She cradled her son’s soft, minuscule body and looked into his closed eyes.
I will not let you suffer, my love.

Madame Olessa swatted Tolstes’ arm. “Go inside. Find some burlap for a cloak—use an old potato bag for all I care. Then find ashes from a cold brazier. Make sure you also find burlap for the child, and do not go sparingly with the ashes. I wouldn’t want any demons sniffing him out before he leaves my house.”

Tolstes nodded and bolted from the deck as if scorching flames had been nipping at his heels. Mara’s frightened gaze fixed on her madame. “Ash and burlap? Demons?”

“Mara.” Madame Olessa went to her knees. For the first time in the many years Mara had known her madame, she saw genuine warmth in the woman’s eyes and the slightest sag of pity in their lids. Her gaze drifted to Mara’s son, and the soft look quickly hardened.

“You have had a stillborn son on Harvest Festival,” Olessa continued. “Any child born without breath tonight night is cursed by the gods. His soul is trapped within his body, and there it will fester while dark spirits from the Second Sun gather. They will seek those who witnessed the birth. They will bring plague, rot and horror. This place of pleasure will become one of pain and death.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Mara said. She clutched the child firm against her breast. “My son would never do such a thing.”

“Stupid girl. Your child is the bait for a demon feast like oysters amongst a swarm of coral sharks. With his birth, it has begun. It will not end until we are dead or you complete the ashwalk. If you do not do this, the first victim they take will be the infant’s soul. Yours will be next. And damn my fate, damn my brother, and damn my years of coin spent on your upbringing, because those demons will come for me next.”

“I won’t let them have his soul. I’ll rip every demon apart who tries to take it.”

“Calm down.” Madame Olessa snorted. “You are not all that you think you are. The demons of our Sun were the ancient races of the Second. No moon maiden could stand against those horrifying things.”

Olessa’s shoulder slumped. She reached for Mara. Mara flinched out of habit.
 

Her madame’s hand held nothing but a soft caress. Olessa pulled Mara’s chin to her, her eyes hard with the determination within them. “You can save his soul, Mara. You can save yours and ours too. You must make the ashwalk. Cloaked in burlap and ash, you must journey to the Burning Mother’s temple. There, in witness of the High Priestess, you must set the child before the Mother’s Ever-Burning Flame. Only within the Mother’s arms will you save him. Only then will you save us.”

Mara shuddered. The well of her emotions bubbled up her aching throat. They spilled out, carried on her heavy sobs. She’d cried more in those past few hours than every day before combined. She kissed her son’s soft brow and nodded, her tired eyes drifting closed. “Then take me there, and I will do the right thing.”

“Take you? We cannot take you.”

Mara’s eyes shot open. Visions of young children with hollow eyes and long knives lining the shore peppered her thoughts. Behind them, a writhing monster of a city waited, full of dark people and dark tidings. She would be there, lost deep in its heart with nothing but burlap as her armor and ash as her shield.

“But you must take me! I’ve never been to the city. I—I don’t know Lower Sollan or High Sollan or Hightable! I would be lost. I—I would be alone. I’ve never been alone.
Never
.”

“Mara, I cannot take you. Gia cannot take you. No one can take you but yourself. The ashwalk is a journey for one and one alone. That is the price of holy pilgrimage. That is the lonely cost of saving souls.”

“Please, Madame Olessa!” Mara reached for her madame, but the woman recoiled.

Olessa straightened, smoothing her silk dress and standing stiff as the titan skeleton rising from the sea. “Enough. I’m giving a worthless whore like you the chance to save your child’s soul, so for once, do something in return for your gentle master. You will leave this place at once. Tolstes will take you to the docks on a skiff, far away from any of my patrons or maidens.
 

“Under cover of night, you will go to the docks and make your way through Sollan to the temples in the shadows of the king’s palace. There, you will complete your ashwalk by giving the child to the Burning Mother. If you don’t, I’ll send the child to the bottom of the sea for coral sharks and sell you and your black womb to the highest bidder. Do not test my patience with this. Do not second guess my kindness in the matter.”

Mara’s arms shook. She clutched her son like a frightened toddler might clutch a soft pillow. “I’m afraid. I do not know the city. What if I fail? What if I’m not strong enough?”

“Then you will die there, your child’s soul will never reach the Six, and if the stories are true, I will spend the rest of my very short days fearing demons leaping from my chamber pot.”

Mara stared blankly at Olessa, the only mother she had ever known and loved despite her many cruelties and hard lessons. Mara’s gaze drifted to Gia, the one and only friend she ever had in the tiny kingdom called the House of Sin and Silk.
 

Her friend still tightly clasped her hands and buried them in her lap. She stared at Mara with eyes that glittered with her tears.

“It is your choice, Mara,” Gia said. “I know you’re afraid of the city, but I know you would want to give your son the respect he deserves—the respect the Six demand. Remember what I told you. The world beyond the barge is big and full of wonders. There is plenty darkness, but there is also light. Put your faith in the Six, and they will guide you. You may find you have yet to discover the real strength within you.”

“Do you—do you think I can do this?”

Gia smiled and leaned forward. “I do. You are stronger than you know. Maybe this ashwalk will teach you that.”

Tolstes burst out of the doorway carrying a messy bundle of burlap stained by soot and ash from one of the ship’s brass braziers. He threw the fabric before Mara and stepped back. “There is a makeshift robe for you and a strip of burlap swaddling for the child. The ash will protect you both from the demons searching for your son, and in the city, no thief will bother an ashwalk pilgrim for fear of catching the curse. You should be, ah, safe. I think.”

Mara reached for the smaller strip of burlap. Her fingers clasped the fabric. Slowly, carefully, she wrapped her son in the material until it cocooned him in its ashen folds. She took her burlap cloak and placed it over her shoulders, fastening the rough threads with frayed twine around her collar. Its fibers fell down her back. Soot stained her arms and added to the filth on her dress.

Tolstes had fashioned a rough hood from the cloak. She pulled the hood over her head, and the scent of burnt wood clogged her nose.
 

Mara struggled to her knees. She looked to the strong boy for a hand, but his eyes told her he would never extend it. Her gaze passed quickly over Olessa, who stood farther back than her bodyguard with arms locked over her sagging chest. Lastly Mara looked to Gia. Even sweet, strong Gia, so unafraid of anything, slowly drew her hands behind her back and looked to her feet.

“We are alone then,” Mara whispered, kissing her son’s brow.

She took a deep breath, and after some struggle, came fully to her feet. Her knees wobbled under her weight and the utter exhaustion thinning her resolve and tamping her will. Blood drained from her head, and the deck spun. She placed a hand upon the barge’s wall and waited for the world to still.

Once it did, she pushed away. Olessa nodded. The woman turned to Tolstes. “Take us to the skiff at once. Make sure not a single patron, maiden, or strong boy sees us.”

Tolstes spun on his heel, and they headed for the small rowboat moored beside the barge. Mara trailed after, taking the first steps of her ashwalk pilgrimage.
 

CHAPTER SIX
A Skiff and Silent Son

The small skiff bobbed like an arrow pointed toward the shore. Tolstes secured the ropes tying the boat to the House of Sin and Silk. The eunuch leapt into the vessel surprisingly lightly, his feet accustomed to balancing on a wavering surface.

Mara blinked. It took longer than usual to open her eyes again. Her knees knocked. Her body ached. She shook her head and forced her eyes wide. Holding her son close to her chest, she stepped from the deck and tumbled into the skiff.
 

The boat rocked violently. Her knee buckled and hit a rough wooden seat. She winced as a flash of pain coursed through her leg. Mara grabbed the skiff’s lip and bit her own, swallowing the burning slosh of bile lurching into her throat.
 

She turned to the House of Sin and Silk, the safe haven she’d known all her life, the one place she knew that would soon fade away beneath the stars of Harvest Festival.
 

Olessa grabbed the thick rope mooring the boat to the barge and tossed it to Mara’s feet. “Goodbye, Mara, and good luck. You will have until sunrise to bring him to the fire. A moment after, and it will be too late for him. Remember that. Do not let the sun rise before you finish the ashwalk.”

Mara’s free hand went to the heavy jewelry clasped around her neck, her fingertips gracing the brass-plated collar staining her skin sickly green. “I’m afraid, Madame Olessa.”

“We all are, but I’ll be less afraid when I can no longer see this skiff darkening the Floatwaif.” Olessa placed her heel upon the rowboat’s stern. “May the Six guide your steps to safety. Fail, and the alp will devour his soul. Then, their eyes turn to
us
.”

“Wait!” Gia grabbed Olessa’s arm.
 

Their madame’s lips pursed into a single venomous point. “Explain yourself. The girl needs to go.”

Gia realized what she’d done. She released Olessa, recoiling like she’d accidentally thrust her hand into a baker’s oven. Gia quickly fell to a knee. The oily braids cascading down her back glimmered in the starlight. “She’s exhausted. She’s just given birth, and now we send her on this…on this journey. She will never make it in her current state.”

Mara’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Gia had seen the insanity of the ashwalk. Perhaps her friend would demand Olessa give her leave to accompany Mara with two armed strong boys.

Olessa cleared her throat, her wrinkled lips melting into a disapproving frown. “And what do you suggest we do? She will not stay. I will not have her tainted womb and cursed child on my most profitable night.”

Gia’s gaze drifted to the deck where it paused for a long moment. Then, it darted up to meet Olessa’s. “Give her something that will at least give her a chance. Give her a dose of glimmer. It will dull the pain and sharpen the senses if it’s only just a little. She’ll run through Sollan in no time with that coursing through her blood.”

The visions of Mara walking through the streets with Gia by her side and two strong boys cracking knuckles hard as granite vanished. Instead, Kard’s wild eyes appeared, hungry for violence and crazed for flesh.
 

Would that be me?
Mara wondered.

“Glimmer?” Olessa laughed and turned away. “Mara’s never taken glimmer. It would make her wild and loosen her tongue. I can’t have her flapping that pink slug all over Sollan that Olessa gives her maidens glimmer. I’d have the the king’s soldiers or worse swarming like hornets by morning.”

“Just a small dose, please,” Gia begged. “I know you bow to the Six. I know you want Mara to finish her ashwalk and return home to set things right. Without the glimmer, she will collapse on the shore, and then it won’t be the soldiers swarming, it will be the spirits of the alp circling the House of Sin and Silk. Do you wish that on any of us?”

Mara knew not much of the histories of Urum, but she had learned enough to know the alp were the lords under the Second Sun after the titans fell beneath the First. The alp were a race of power and beauty, able to weave great works of magic and perform feats that rivaled even the titans. They rode the skies on glittering dragons and tamed all the wild beasts.

BOOK: Ashwalk Pilgrim
8.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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