Book’s eyes flicked to the doorway and back again, fresh sweat beading his skin. However, Pilgrim could see his resolution remained despite his fear. It had often been the way with true adherents, those few who never allowed their terror to unseat their faith no matter how many fingernails he plucked, eyes he gouged, or hot irons he pressed to their flesh. But then, none faced the test that awaited this one.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he told Book. “In fact, I’ll do everything I can to ensure you reach the Crescent, for I suspect I will find the Mad God’s answer to your prayer highly entertaining.”

Six

Chapter Six

The Crucible Bridge

I n the morning, with the dritch-wights vanished from the dry bed of the Azure sea, Priest unfurled the rope ladder and they clambered back down. He left the ladder where it was, causing Maisha to ask, “Is that wise? The wights may use it to get inside.”

“It matters not,” was the cleric’s only response, striding down the ramp without delay.

“But, other pilgrims…” she began, but fell silent when Pilgrim moved to her side, speaking quietly.

“There will be no other pilgrimages,” he said. “We’re the last. Or, at least the last who will be guided by the Church of the Absolved. I suspect others will come as long as the Mad God lingers.”

Once again, Priest set a rapid pace and they drew clear of the spires by noon. The cracked earth continued for several miles, broken by what at first appeared to be outcrops of jagged rock that resolved into the wrecks of ancient vessels as they drew nearer. Most were small, fishing smacks and barges, but one was immense. It formed a hundred-foot-long elongated oval upon the earth, the planks of its hull bleached to a pale grey and the iron of its nails and fittings rusted red. The only intact feature was the figurehead at the prow, an elegant carving of a young man with flowing hair and outstretched arms. Priest came to a halt in its shadow, sinking to his knees with hands clasped.

“Is that…him?” Seeker wondered, peering up at the wooden statue as Priest murmured his prayers. The figure’s features were cracked and partially misshapen by the elements, but the beauty of the youth’s face remained somehow intact. His finely muscled chest featured a symbol rendered in Ultrean lettering, though the word was unfamiliar to Pilgrim, but not apparently to Book.