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I’d been to Lady Lugh’s estate multiple times by now. I’d walked her halls, sat at her dining table, stood in her parlor. She and her cult knew me, and her home had become familiar to me.
And yet, as I approached her mansion that day, as the sun started sinking its way down to the horizon, it was like I was seeing it for the very first time. The towers were straight and geometrically perfect, and the arches of the roofs were exactly the right angle to let wind blow over them and rain to slide down them. The windows were spaced evenly from the edges of the house; same distance for every one.
The exactness of it all would’ve seemed artificial, except I could also see all these little flaws in it. The heights of the towers varied just a smidge. At the front of the house were a set of eight pillars, and one was bent at a slight angle, as though it’d been knocked over a bit and no one had ever bothered with fixing it. The brickwork was even and regular, but there were a few that were the wrong color; mostly those were just a little off, in a way that might’ve been explained by dirt or grime, but one or two were clearly dark where all the others were light.
It was ordered, but it was also chaotic. I had a feeling like I was looking at a crystal or a tree—something that’s not built, but grown.
But the strangest thing was that it felt right to me. I noticed the order and I noticed the chaos and I noticed not a single contradiction between the two. Look at the universe from a wide enough vantage and y’all’ll see a world of exact equations, endless systems all working together in perfect harmony, and each and every random chance that occurs exists within the parameters of that system. Then sometimes different results from those different chances pile up and change things in unexpected ways, and the whole system is altered as it breaks just a little before incorporating it all back into itself, evolving just a bit further, one step at a time.
Looking at Lady Lugh’s estate, I suddenly understood Order and Chaos not as the opposing forces the Cerenites like to preach about, but as complementary ones. The lines between them were arbitrary, made-up things, invented by creatures too small to see or understand the world in its entirety. I saw that mansion and I reckoned that Order and Chaos didn’t even really exist, because it was all just one and the same thing.
And then I reckoned something else too, and I didn’t like it one bit: these weren’t my thoughts, and this weren’t my understanding of the world. They was the Wild God’s. I was seeing the world through the eyes of Ferengris, or starting to at least, and that was a sobering thing to realize.
How much time did I have left? The merging was getting more obvious, and it was getting faster too. Ferengris’d said it’d be done within eight days—basically a week—but I was wondering if I had even half that much time left as myself.
Lucky me then that I’d done most of what I’d intended to do. There was just one more warning left to impart. I strode through the gates of the Lugh manor ground and approached the front door.
Her doors were carved out of oak. They was a set of double doors, and one came from a tree that had grown for fifty years in a forest far to the north-east. The other was from a tree that’d grown for thirty years on a farm west of there. The brass knockers had been forged from metal extracted from the earth even farther north than the trees, and there was the slightest impurity on the bottom of the left one.
I frowned at how naturally, how easily all that knowledge’d come to me. It was all instant and obvious, like I’d observed what colors they was rather than where they’d come from. I tried to push the knowledge from my mind, tried to remind myself stern as I could that I was a human being named Jackson Balor—not a god of the Wild named Ferengris.
At my feet, Syl pawed at the wooden doors and mewed. She didn’t seem to understand why they hadn’t opened up yet.
“Sorry,” I said to the cat. I grabbed a knocker and struck it hard against the door. Beyond the wood, the impact of it echoed throughout the mansion. A moment later, I felt someone approaching.
The door opened, and I found myself looking into Hector’s dark face. In the span of a heartbeat, his eyes widened, and he snatched my arm and dragged me into the house, closing the door quick behind us.
“Jackson!” he exclaimed. “Where have you been? What happened to you? The whole city’s talking about the explosion at the Temple and...” He trailed off, realized he was still grasping my arm, and let go. “You need to see the Lady.”
“I do,” I agreed. “I failed, Hector. I couldn’t get the mask. And I’ve also learned that you’re in danger. All of y’all are in danger.”
He nodded. “Come with me.”
Every other time I’d dropped by on official business, I’d been brought to the drawing room, or the parlor, or to some other place where rich folks is expected to receive their visitors. That weren’t where Hector took me then, though. He guided me down the halls of the manor to its back, to the very first part of that building I’d ever seen the inside of: the solarium.
Hector shot me a nervous but encouraging smile as he opened up the door. I tried to take a moment to center myself before heading in, but Syl had no such hesitations. She strutted on in there like she owned the place, the way cats tend to do. She looked back at me as she did so, and she opened up that third eye of hers again, and I got the impression she was telling me to move my ass already.
So I followed Syl’s lead. I stepped out onto the grass-covered floor of that massive glass room, beneath the shade of that huge vine-covered tree, and all around me the flowers bloomed and gave off their glowing golden light.
“Aurinrods,” Hector said. “Imported from the far-off plains of southern D’rai. A rare species, but not difficult to cultivate, if you know what you’re doing. Don’t be alarmed by them.”
“I’ve seen them before,” I said, and I couldn’t help but smile a bit. From the tone of his words, it sounded like Hector was used to explaining these flowers to folks.
“You...? Oh. Oh yes, of course.”
Hector was walking behind me now, but that was fine. I didn’t need him to guide me anymore. Even if I didn’t have Syl to follow, I could feel the shapes and forms of life all around me. The grass and the flowers all hummed with vitality and health, and the soil was filled with worms and bugs that ate and shat and processed the dirt into something fertile and strong. Bugs and snakes and birds made their homes up in the tree branches above, and frogs and fish filled the pond. But there was also, off in a grove of bushes to the side, near to the wall of windows, a table and set of chairs fashioned from dead wood, adorned with metal plates and pitchers and cups, and with those objects was the presence of three human animals.
In the darkness of my previous visit, I hadn’t noticed that grove. But in the light of day, the solarium had become vibrant and clear. I walked this time without fear, my feet avoiding the blooming aurinrods easy and naturally as though they had minds of their own, and I followed Syl across the field to where Lady Imogen Lugh awaited.
She was seated at a table, just like I’d sensed. Her hair was pulled up in an intricate bun, and her dress was white and green. She was speaking with Penelope, who sat across from her in a dark blue dress, and to a pale fella named Stuart, who was one of the more devoted members of her little cult. He was from a family of wealthy merchants rather than bloodline aristocracy.
Me and Stuart got off to the wrong foot that first day the cult’d come for me. He was the one who’d seen fit to threaten me as I was joining Imogen in her coach. We hadn’t exactly patched things up in the time since—he was usually backing up Penelope whenever she came looking for a fight. The two were inseparable, and that moment, they was even holding hands.
“To be honest, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Lady Lugh was saying as I approached. “I’m sure we’ve all been wondering when the two of you would make a formal announcement.”
“There are rumors about the church and police working together on something,” Stuart said. “My older brother handled a shipping contract for them. He said they were importing weapons. I figured that now was a good time to wed and...”
“Leave New Alms?” Lady Lugh asked, nodding. “I understand. But, Penelope, you’ve served me since you were young. Are you sure that...?”
“Excuse me,” said Hector, stepping in front of me and bowing. “I apologize for the interruption, my Lady, but we have a guest.”
“A guest?” Lady Lugh asked, turning her head to look at him. As she did so, her eyes found me, and they widened in shock.
“Really, Hector, you couldn’t—?” Penelope’s words cut off when she saw me standing there too.
Stuart, for his part, said nothing. He just gawked at me with his mouth hanging open.
“Uh, hey,” I said. “Long time, no see.”
The first one to react was the lady of the house. She stood up, marched across the grass, and slapped me across the face.
“Where have you been!?” she demanded. “We’ve had no word from you for days, and the entire city has been abuzz with whatever happened at the Temple! I assumed you were dead, Balor!”
I rubbed my cheek. Damn, did that woman have a strong arm. “It’s a long story,” I said. “Let me get settled, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
And that’s exactly what I did. I sat at that table in the grove in the solarium, and I told Lady Lugh, Stuart, Hector, and Penelope about everything that’d happened. I told them about the automaton in the lab and how I’d only just managed to escape it, how I’d gone to the Etternas for help only to be sold out, and the things that’d happened and the things I’d learned at that watchtower on the edge of the city.
“Well, at least now we know why the Cerenites haven’t stormed the place yet,” Hector said once I’d finished. He had this nervous smile on his face, like he was trying to make a joke or something, maybe make light of the situation. Ain’t no one felt light though.
“But it’s only a matter of time, from the sound of things,” said Lady Lugh. She was staring at the table in front of her, hands gripping tightly on one of her metal teacups. Syl was curled up on the grass beneath her chair. “How long until the automata are ready?”
“No idea,” I said. “But Reverend Crane was saying they’d be marching through the city next week. So soon, I reckon.”
“They’re going to come after us.” Stuart’s voice was small, like a frightened child’s. He reminded me a little of my sick niece. “They’re really going to come after us.”
Penelope said nothing.
“We’ll have to flee the city,” said Lady Lugh. There was resignation in her voice, and a weariness in her tone that the others were lacking. “I’d hoped New Alms would be lawless enough that we could put down roots here, but...” She frowned.
Of course. Her family’d been on the run for some time, never staying in one place for long. There weren’t a civilized population in this world that’d tolerate Ferengris-worshipers. I wondered how many other cults there’d been, how many other bored socialites in other cities had been drawn to the alluring thrill of the Lugh family’s heretical mask. New Alms certainly weren’t the first, and I doubted it’d be the last neither.
“It’d be best for y’all to leave as soon as possible,” I told them. “And put the word out to the rest of your little club too. New Alms ain’t safe, and all y’all should leave immediately. There’s a good chance that the Cerenites know exactly who every member is.”
At my words, Stuart somehow managed to grow even paler. Penelope squeezed his hand.
“What about you?” asked Hector.
I shrugged. “It’s not like I got much longer left. I’m sensing the things Ferengris senses, and lately I’ve started thinking his thoughts as well. I reckon I’ll be gone in a few days, and only the Wild God will remain. I aim to be out in the wilderness when that happens, far away from here.”
The table became quiet again. Lady Lugh wouldn’t meet my eyes. But that’s when Penelope finally decided to speak up:
“No. You should come with us.”
It was my turn to be shocked. “Come again?”
I weren’t the only one. Both Stuart and Lady Lugh looked just as surprised at the suggestion—in fact, Stuart looked downright offended at his lover’s words. Hector also looked a bit taken aback, but the shock faded from his face quick, like the two siblings was having the same thought.
“You are the vessel of Lord Ferengris,” Penelope said. “I know you don’t want to be, but you are. Like you said: when you die, the god will remain. And it is our duty to honor him. I would like to be there, when he walks this world once more.”
“I’m not sure that’s such...” What I was gonna say was that I weren’t too sure that was such a good idea, but I couldn’t manage to finish speaking them words. I imagined myself alone in the wilderness, my mind fading away, my thoughts disappearing one by one, until at last my transformation was complete and I died with nothing but the beasts and the trees by my side. And I realized that, given everything, I didn’t actually have any good reason for turning Penelope down. After all, ain’t it better to die with company, than to pass on all alone?
So instead of turning her down, I looked over at Lady Lugh. It’d have to be her decision after all. I raised an eyebrow.
She’d composed her face to be careful and neutral. It was definitely a skill that she’d practiced and honed over many years. Had I still been a normal human, I’d’ve dreaded the notion of ever playing cards with the woman. But with the god’s senses, I could feel the unease within her, the reluctance. She was backed into a corner, and she was only just now realizing how bad her position was.
Lady Imogen Lugh was not a woman who’d ever wanted the responsibility of shepherding a Wild cult. She resented it. What she wanted was the easy life that most nobles enjoyed, a life that someone of her station would think was normal and that they was entitled to. She couldn’t, but so long as Ferengris slumbered, she was at least free to play both roles: the secretive cult leader by night, and the wealthy socialite by day. But if the Wild God was walking the world once more, well, that limited her options a bit.
’Course I knew all that already. Imogen’d told me as much on the day we’d met. It was the entire basis of our partnership and our plan to return Ferengris to the mask. It was the secret we shared, that none of the others in the cult knew about.
But now I could sense her world starting to crumble. I could feel her spirits crushed as she recognized that we’d failed; the mask was still in the Cerenite’s possession, and Ferengris was about to be unleashed. Her life as a normal aristocrat was doomed to end.
“It makes sense,” she said, and had I not been listening for it, I don’t think I’d’ve caught the slight waver in her voice. “Come with us, Mr. Balor.”
I nodded. “Very well. What’s the plan?”
Lady Lugh stood up and smoothed her dress. “I have a boat, down at the harbor. It’s a pleasure ship, but it will serve to take us as far north as Lorendan. From there, we can arrange a carriage to Greenhome. My family has holdings there.”
She began to walk away, but stopped. “To avoid suspicion, we’ll need to make it seem like a day trip, at first. No heavy packing. We can send for our things once we’re settled in Greenhome. No one should suspect that we’re leaving town.”
“We’ll need to inform the others,” said Stuart.
The Lady nodded. “Send out messages, Hector. Tell the faithful that the Cerenites are coming, and that they’ll need to leave the city immediately. Do not tell them of our own plans. We can’t risk one of them being an informant.”
Hector nodded, but Penelope gasped. “You think one of our own could be a traitor?”
“The Cerenites know about us,” Lady Lugh pointed out. “So we can’t ignore the possibility.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow,” Lady Lugh told me. “Get some rest. We’ll be heading out as soon as we can.”