After Infidel finished her bath, she spent time examining her wounds in the foggy mirror. It wasn’t just her face that had taken a beating from Patch; her whole body was mottled with dark blue bruises, fading to yellow. I wondered how long it would take her to heal. The few times I’d seen her injured, she recovered much faster than a normal person. Why? She made no secret she’d been enchanted, but by whom, and for what purpose? Why hadn’t I pried deeper about these things when I’d had the chance? I’d always hoped that, one day, she’d open up to me, and tell me of her life before Commonground.
“It’s not the role of the dead to be inquisitive,” Relic had said.
I felt like proving him wrong. I’d messed up my chance to learn Infidel’s secrets while I was alive. Perhaps, in death, I had a new opportunity to unravel her mysteries. It seemed unethical, perhaps, to spy on her unseen and unsuspected. On the other hand, did I even have a choice in the matter? I suspected that by being around her at all times, a lot more than her naked body was going to be revealed.
Bigsby had left a small pile of fresh clothes for Infidel. They were decidedly more feminine than anything I’d ever seen her wear. Lacy underwear, a short black leather skirt, a black silk blouse with a low neck. Again, it seemed strange he’d just had these lying around. Bigsby wasn’t married and I’d never seen him consort with whores. The clothes hung horribly on Infidel, both too big and too short, but would have fit a pot-bellied dwarf just fine.
I dropped the line of thought before I had a picture in my head I wouldn’t be able to get rid of.
When you’re up on the slopes of Tanakiki, (the central volcano, which translates from lava-pygmy as ‘the Farting Dragon’) you see that the Commonground bay must once have been a volcanic caldera. The water is almost a perfect circle three miles across, with a gap several hundred yards wide at the far end open to the sea. Twin arcs of land lead out to the gap. The southern arc is mostly low, rolling dunes surrounded by marshes. The northern arc is rockier, and the ocean beyond is unimaginably deep. There’s a place out near the tip called the Old Temple. It’s a long stretch of hexagonal basalt columns bunched tightly together; there’s some debate as to whether it’s a natural formation or man-made. I’ve poked around out there a time or two and don’t have a strong opinion, other than the place is damn spooky. The rock is black as coal, but etched with white rings of salt left by evaporating seawater. Nothing grows there, not even lichen. Pygmy lore says that Greatshadow once landed here to drink from the sea, then pissed on his rocky perch, poisoning the ground.
It was still a few hours before dawn when Relic led Infidel out to the Old Temple. Her skin was pink in the moonlight, raw from the lye soap and vigorous scrubbing. She looked ridiculous in the clothes Bigsby had provided. The outfit could have come from a whore’s wardrobe, but the scowl on Infidel’s face would likely discourage any customers. She was barefoot again. My knife was stuck into the waistband of her skirt.
Bigsby had been dispatched by Relic on an errand. I’d missed the specifics while Infidel was bathing, but apparently the dwarf was supposed to bring someone out to the Old Temple to meet with Infidel.
Relic no longer seemed to be aware of me. With my knife free of blood, I was unable to shout at him. He may have been able to read the minds of the living, but the dead lay outside his awareness, as long as they weren’t drunk on blood. Still, he knew I was haunting the knife. I couldn’t help but wonder what other uses he had in mind for me. If he talked to me again, what was I going to say? Should I try to use him to convey messages to Infidel? Tell her I was haunting her? Would that make her feel better, or worse?
Infidel leaned against one of the basalt columns, gently kneading the knot on her forehead. After she’d been mauled by the iron tiger, she told me that it was interesting to be hurt. She’d been fascinated by her scabs for days. She acted like she’d made it through her entire childhood without so much as a scratch.
A fog started to gather, masking the edges of the salt-crusted platform on which we waited. The lanterns aboard the ships at Commonground faded as the mist thickened. The damp night turned decidedly cold. Infidel folded her arms across her chest, tucking her hands into her armpits for warmth.
Relic looked toward the thickest clump of fog and said, “There’s no point in hiding. You’ve come this far; you won’t turn back.”
The fog swirled as a dark shadow moved through it, then parted as Aurora stepped onto the basalt platform. I don’t remember ever seeing the ogress outside the Black Swan. Bigsby emerged from the fog right behind her. I wondered what he’d said to her to convince her to leave the bar.
Aurora glowered at the hunchback. She was easily twice as tall as him. She said, “The dwarf gave me your message. How did you learn my true name?”
Relic chuckled. “I plucked it from your mind, Aksarna. I have the gift, and the curse, of hearing the thoughts of others.”
“Do you have the gift of an iron neck?” Aurora asked as her eyes narrowed. “Since you know of my past, you leave me little choice but to strangle you.”
Infidel spoke up. “The Black Swan knows your past, and you don’t strangle her. Give ol’ Lumpy here five minutes.”
Aurora looked at Infidel, pausing for a second to study her odd attire and bruised face. “What’s your role in this, princess? ”
“I think I’m auditioning for the villain.”
“Infidel has agreed to kill the king’s men once they’ve slain Greatshadow,” said Relic.
“You know about the mission?” asked Aurora.
Relic tapped his brow with a gnarled finger.
“Right, right. Mind-reader,” said the ogress. “Fine. Why have you dragged me out here?”
“Ivory Blade negotiated with you to hire the Three Goons,” said Relic. “We need you to arrange for him to hire us as well.”
“You’ve already confessed that you’re planning to kill the king’s men. As of now, that includes the Goons. I’m no traitor.”
“You’ve been accused of treason in the past. I’ve come to offer you a chance to clear your name.”
Aurora shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what you offer me. My loyalty lies with the Black Swan. I could never betray her.”
“You have deeper, older loyalties, Aksarna.”
“Don’t call me that,” said Aurora. “Aksarna died long ago. Commonground and the Black Swan are all I have now.”
“You didn’t die,” said Relic. “You failed. The difference is significant. The dead are devoid of hope, but the fallen may dream of redemption. I know you are haunted by the possibility that you could one day return to Qikiqtabruk with the Jagged Heart, restoring the temple and erasing your shame.”
“The Jagged Heart was destroyed,” said Aurora. “My soul was bound to it. My spirit died when the tip was shattered. It’s only my stubborn body that carries on.”
“Wrong, wrong, and wrong,” said Relic. “The Jagged Heart was never so much as scratched. Your soul was never bound to it, despite the teachings of your religion. You may have loved it so much that it felt like a part of you, but this attachment was emotional, not supernatural.”