Winterland Read online

  “Can’t climb,” Mordant huffed. “Can’t climb!” Yet despite his weary dissent, he took Joseph’s hand.

  Eunice positioned herself behind the grub man, took a great breath, held it, and pushed Mordant over the ledge. He issued a yelp. Before following, she braced herself against the wall and looked down on the winding stairwell. She gasped. It looked like they’d climbed miles. Miles! As if they were seated in the clouds atop Jack’s beanstalk. They had climbed high… but not this high! She flattened her back against the wall. Her heart raced.

  “I can go back,” she said to herself. “Whenever I want. I can go back.”

  And then she thought about her mother laying in Saint Luke’s dying of brain cancer. And if there was any way this was related to that, she could not give up. Not now.

  “It always looks higher from up here.” Joseph extended his hand, a knowing smile creasing his lips. “C’mon.”

  Eunice took his hand and he hoisted her through the trap door, where she collapsed on the landing.

  Her head was spinning from the thinning oxygen. Or was it from the view? Or was it from the car accident she had been in on the 210 freeway? She only allowed herself a moment to speculate. Eunice bolted upright and began scanning the loft.

  Threads of gray light shone through the cracks of a high-pitched, open beamed ceiling. The wind whistled through unseen apertures and, up here, the tower creaked terribly. Except for its perimeter, the room was empty and uncluttered. Tall thin windows rose every four or five feet. From this perch, one could probably get a 360-degree view of Winterland. Not that Eunice was dying to have a look. Up here, the slightest movement could be felt ten-fold. Every creak. Every groan. Every structural shift. If there was another solar flare, this place would become a pile of matchsticks.

  “Egads!” someone shouted in a high-pitched warble. “What have you done?”

  Eunice spun around, looking for the source of the airy voice.

  “Industry is breached!” the voice twilled. “Profaned! Sullied by the unwashed. Curses!”

  Eunice’s gaze darted about the airy loft, but she could see no one.

  Or any torture racks.

  “Heathens!” the voice cried. “Purification from the heathens!”

  Then Eunice noticed that someone was standing… in the rafters. What in the world was this person doing? She forced her eyes to adjust and took a step closer. It was a thin, terribly frail man with a pointy nose and a bulky device strapped to his head. But he wasn’t standing in the rafters.

  He was standing on stilts.

  TEN

  Joseph looked up at the stilted man. “Stop being so dramatic, Reverend.”

  “I have foreseen this.” The reverend’s voice was hollow, yet lilting, like the tinkling of wind chimes. “The end of all things.”

  “Not all things,” Joseph said. “Just your things.”

  Reverend Ash adjusted the device on his head. It was an odd contraption, an oversized helmet consisting of mechanical arms with various lenses and monocles. His long bony fingers drew one spectacle back and swiveled a large eyeglass into its place. He calibrated the piece, stepped forward and teetered on his stilts, looking down upon Eunice through the thick lens.

  “Her!” Ash gasped. “She has violated the Law!”

  “Well I—” Eunice instinctively looked at her filthy hands, fearing the reverend might begin an inspection of her fingernails. Then she crossed her arms. “How could anyone keep those laws? They were… impossible.”

  “Impossible indeed!” Reverend Ash drew back the lens with his delicate fingers and straightened. “Only the blameless can satisfy the Law. Which is why I alone dwell in the Tower of Industry.”

  Eunice scowled. “I suppose that’s why my mother never made it inside?”

  “Your mother had her chance.” Reverend Ash brushed his hand through the air dismissively. “Many are called but few are frozen.”

  “Don’t you mean chosen?”

  “Frozen, Spawn. Frozen.” Ash maneuvered toward one of the windows where several telescopic devices stood in array looking down upon the Plains of Cinder.

  The grub man mumbled something behind her. Eunice turned to see Mister Mordant sulking in the shadows.

  “Safer with me,” he groused. “Shoulda stayed with Mordant.”

  Reverend Ash spun about so quickly Eunice thought he might fall off his stilts. He thumped toward Mordant, navigating through the beams while fiddling with his monocles. Then he bent forward and gawked comically at the creature.

  “Defiled!” Ash twilled, throwing his gangly arms up in dismay. “How dare you bring this worm into Industry!”

  “Sorry, Reverend.” Joseph wandered to one of the telescopes and looked through it, studying something in the distance. He said over his shoulder, “Industry’s over.”

  “Pah!” Ash lurched toward Joseph, brushing him away from the telescope. Then he turned, teetered, and glared at them. “Industry stands forever! A monument to Diligence. Enterprise. Devotion.” He allowed the last word to trail off rapturously.

  Eunice watched him swaying there with his eyes closed in near euphoria. She cleared her throat. “A monument? This thing’s on the verge of collapsing.”

  Reverend Ash’s brows creased, scrunching his already narrow face beyond recognition “Away with you!” he said, rushing at them on his stilts, waving his gangly arms like a manic scarecrow.

  Mordant scuttled behind Eunice, snuffling and snorting. But she stood fast, gazing up at Reverend Ash. His bluster could not dissuade her… not after she had survived a car accident, a dimensional door, a crippled trekker, and the Swamp of Mlaise. She met the frenzied gaze of Reverend Ash.

  Mordant seemed to derive courage from Eunice’s resolve. He nudged from behind Eunice and said to Ash, “Comin’ with us. Hmmph! Industry’s over.”

  It was the first hint of glee Eunice had detected in the grub man’s tone.

  Reverend Ash sneered. “The Law requires no such thing.” He rose tall on his stilts. “You must leave Industry at once! I must begin the Purification.” His features relaxed into one of arrogant indifference.

  Joseph crossed his arms and cast an expectant gaze at Eunice.

  Eunice nodded to him—not at all confident, but understanding the laws of this strange dimension she had penetrated. She cleared her throat and looked up at the stilted man. “I don’t know what you’ve done to my mother. But it’s over. She wants you. Both of you—” She pointed to Mordant and then Ash. “You’re coming with us and… and there’s no way you’re gonna weasel your way out of it.”

  Reverend Ash appeared momentarily stunned. Perhaps, like some holy men, he had never had a woman stand up to him.

  “Pah!” he finally said. “I rescued her from this foul creature.”

  “Rescued?” Mordant protested. “Mmph! You stole her!” He stomped his foot for emphasis.

  “She came willingly,” Ash piped. “Who would not? You disgrace Industry with your lies.”

  “Lies?” Mister Mordant stumbled out from behind Eunice with his arms unfurled. “You’re the one. It’s your stupid Law—that’s the lie!”

  “The Law,” Ash preened. “Yes. The Law says you must go. Article 8, Precept 17, Section C. Only the Deserved shall enter Industry. And you are not. So go!” He wiggled his long pale fingers toward the three of them. “Back the way you came, Spawn. Leave this holy place at once. The end of all things is at hand. I must prepare for Night, for the Coronation. She takes the throne, you know. It is her time. And I shall be frozen, interminably ensconced in my citadel. Alas! The Purification must begin.” He folded his hands at his waist and gazed smugly at them.

  Mordant flashed a worried glance at Eunice, and then snuffled back into the shadows again.

  Eunice glanced at Joseph who had moved back to the telescopes and was gazing out at the fiery horizon.

  “The Law,” Eunice said to herself. “You’re bound to the Law.”

  “Of course!” Ash peeled. “It i
s what binds her world. Your mother put it in place and assigned me to guard it. Neither jot nor tittle has escaped my notice.”

  She peered up at him. “Well, then that’s why she wants you.”

  “He’s right.” Joseph stepped away from the telescope. “The Coronation is beginning. If she’s enthroned…” He looked steadfastly at her. “We have to leave.”

  “Indeed!” Reverend Ash rose imperiously. “You must leave. Go on, Spawn. You and your little brigade. Your appeals are useless. You have no authority here.”

  Maybe he was right. What kind of authority could Eunice really have here? She could barely keep her life together. So how on earth did she expect to command a grub man and a stilted scarecrow through an unpredictable netherworld?

  “Well, I’m h-here,” Eunice began, trying to formulate the thoughts that were brewing inside her. “I’m here because she gave me authority. Or someone did. I have the authority to be here. I made him come with me.” She pointed at Mordant. “And I led us out of that awful swamp. And I can go back whenever I want, right?” She nodded toward Joseph, who met her with an affirming wink. “I broke your Law—or her Law, like you said. And maybe that’s what she wanted. I…” She forced down a swallow. “I tore it up.”

  “Tore it up? No!” Reverend Ash gasped and staggered back. His helmet slid down over his eyes, and he stood teetering on his rickety stilts, frantically trying to fit the device back into place. It rested cockeyed on his head. “No one can… You didn’t!”

  “I did.”

  Joseph made his way to the trap door and stood waiting for them.

  “It was just some pieces of paper anyway,” Eunice said. “They turned into nothing, just disappeared. Which is probably what they were all along.”

  Ash gaped. Then his eyes darted about the spire sanctuary. “It’s Sybil,” he warbled. “She’s the one.”

  “Who?”

  “Eunice,” Joseph urged. “We have to go.”

  “It’s her fault,” Ash thumped toward Eunice, his sanctimony suddenly as vapid as the laws it had been attached to. “Sybil went too far. Your mother would have been safe here. Sybil gave her too much. She always does.” He tilted his helmet back and leaned forward. His eyes were rabid. “The Law would not have allowed this!”

  “Well…” Eunice pursed her lips. “There’s a new Law in town. It’s me.”

  When she spoke this, an explosion sounded. The horizon flared and Industry rocked violently at the repercussion. Ash shrieked and staggered across the room trying to steady himself. He thudded against one of the beams and clung to it like a drowning man on a life preserver. The helmet fell from his head and shattered sending mirrors, springs, and thick lenses spiraling across the floor. The structural beams groaned and crackled as the tower swayed from one side to the other. Particles of plaster and dust rained down. Finally, everything settled. Only the moaning of the wind could be heard.

  “It’s the Coronation.” Joseph said. “We gotta hurry.”

  Eunice herded Reverend Ash and Mister Mordant to the roof hatch. Mordant stood wringing his hands, while Ash wavered on his stilts, staring down into the bowels of his decrepit tower. He blurted, “Someone will answer for this!”

  Eunice extended her hand to help him.

  “Don’t touch me.” Ash wrinkled his nose at her and began to wobble his way down.

  Mordant watched the gaunt stilted man descend the stairs and snuffled, “What goes up must come down.”

  ELEVEN

  Their descent from the Tower of Industry was amazingly swift. In fact, once they reached the bottom, Eunice was forced to conclude she had misjudged its height completely. She stood outside and looked up in puzzlement at the tower.

  “It looked a lot bigger on the inside,” Eunice wondered aloud.

  “Doesn’t it always?” Joseph quipped.

  Reverend Ash seemed to take great offense at this. But he had no retort. He wobbled to a standstill under the burnished sky, looking forlorn. Mister Mordant, however, appeared greatly relieved to be down from Industry. He began rooting around in the dry earth as if he were a pig in a sty, tossing clods of dirt on his head.

  Suddenly the sky erupted overhead, crimson plumes radiating against a growing blackness. They all turned and stared. A sickening emptiness gripped Eunice for a monstrous chasm now appeared in the ozone, enveloping the periphery of her vision. A pitch starless sky, a great Nothingness. She tore her eyes away from the apocalyptic dreamscape.

  “Okay.” She swallowed. “So how do we get to this Sybil?”

  Reverend Ash looked away from the savage sky. His features were gaunt and drawn. He shook his head dejectedly, swaying in the breeze. “There is no one way. She has many ways. Many roads lead to her.”

  “So…” She craned up at him. “How do we find her?”

  He straightened and trilled angrily, “Without the Law, there is nowhere else to go but to her. You should have thought about that before you destroyed the sacred texts.” He jabbed his bony finger at the vacant door. Then he shook his head and said, “Now she is unfettered. And who knows what form she will take.”

  Eunice stared at him. A howl rose from the plain and the tower creaked behind her. The wind was growing chill and the damp smell of evening was in it.

  “Then we’ll follow the stream,” Eunice said emphatically. “The stream will get us there.”

  Apparently, Joseph agreed. He was at her side in a moment and together they began marching into the Plains of Cinder.

  Mordant moaned behind them and she could hear him heave his body from the dirt and begin plodding after them. Eunice did not need to turn to see if Ash was following. The laws of Winterland would not allow him to remain without her.

  But she had yet to consider the consequences of this.

  Sheets of sand swept across the highway, swallowing it completely in parts. The odd foursome passed the rusted shell of an automobile, partly buried in a dune. Its vanity license plate read R33LIST. Mordant saw it and scurried past, murmuring something about monsters. Soon after that, they encountered the ruins of a vast overpass. Its columns lay toppled like great petrified trees in a primeval world. The wind whistled through the rubble carrying the awful choir in its dry deathly current.

  As they walked the Plains of Cinder, Eunice found herself wondering at her mother’s journey. Perhaps that old proverb was true: Never judge a person until you walk a mile in their shoes. Or on their highway. Eunice recalled her own journey out of addiction and how much it felt like a wasteland. Watching the carnage of her life—the squandered opportunities, the broken friendships, the wasted talents—was strangely similar to this surreal desert.

  The sand eventually yielded to parched cracked earth and the black rivulet disappeared underground.

  “It’s gone!” Eunice lurched to a stop, hunched over the spot where the stream had vanished. “Dried up.”

  Joseph shook his head. “It never goes away. You should know that.”

  She looked sideways at him. “Is that another riddle?”

  He cast a chiding glance at her.

  She sighed. “I know—even the truth can sound like a riddle when you’re on the wrong side of it.”

  The Plains of Cinder was like a vast salt flat. Plates of earth warped by some great sun stretched for miles. The wind chilled her flesh, and she hugged herself, hoping for warmth. Yet Joseph seemed unfazed. He marched on in his steady, yet halted gait.

  Finally, she asked, “Why do you limp, Joseph?”

  “Because of what happened on the other side.”

  “You’re from… my side?”

  “Of course,” he snorted. “Where else would I be from?”

  “Of course.” She stared forward. “So, what happened?”

  “Hm,” Joseph said contemplatively. “Let’s say I had my own demons.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the motley troupe bringing up the rear. “I surrendered to them and I’ll bear the wound forever, just like Good bears the scar of Evil.”
/>   “So,” Eunice said hesitantly, “are you an angel?”

  “On, no. I’m what I always was, only more so.”

  She waited, but he did not offer clarification. And she knew that getting a clear answer would not be possible. So Eunice simply nodded to herself.

  The landscape spread before them, cold and bleak. The sky grew darker, and the wind picked up, beating on them with rigid persistence. Soon Eunice’s lips grew parched and she realized how thirsty she’d become.

  But she could not ask to stop. Instead, she turned her attention to Reverend Ash. His journey was particularly awful to watch. He clicked and clacked behind them, wobbling along, constantly on the verge of collapsing.

  After witnessing his tortured march, Eunice gestured to Reverend Ash’s stilts. “You’ll move a lot faster if you get rid of those things.”

  “These things are my legs, Spawn.”

  “Kidding, right?”

  He puffed in dismissal. “One does not kid about such matters.” Then he looked away with an air of disregard.

  “Okay,” Eunice sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Indeed,” he said dryly.

  “It’s just… you’re not any bigger with those stilts on. You’re the same size either way. Besides,” she forced a smirk back. “They’re pretty flimsy.”

  “This from a woman who relied on synthetics for the better part of her adult life.”

  “Hey.”

  “Not only that, but you abandoned your mother when she needed you most.”

  “That’s not fair. And way too personal.”

  “Cht!” Ash thrust forth his hand to silence her. “Do what you must,” he chimed. “You’ll see. You should have left when you had a chance. Why meddle here? The Law has remained untouched… until you intruded.” He pointed a dreadfully rigid finger at her. “Sybil will have her way. She will twist your mind and leave your carcass to waste in Winterland. The Coronation will ensue and you will become enshrined in her Garden. Another one of her many trophies. Testament to that flaccid apparatus you call,” he drawled the phrase, “your mind.”