“Hnnngh.”

Claudia heaved over the dry stone wall as another round of spasms made her vomit into the bushes. Behind her, the gathered nuns looked on in sympathy, or pretended to be very interested in the scenery.

“I told you bringing her would be a bad idea,” Lydia hissed under her breath. “We’re losing time because Miss I-dreamt-I-would-come can’t keep her breakfast down for longer than fifteen minutes.”

“I didn’t say we should bring her, don’t pin this on me!” Elizabeth snapped back. The two of them hadn’t been talking much since they had left the convent, when Lydia had introduced Elizabeth to Isidore as a ‘friend’.

Around them the speckled fronds of pampas grass waved in the noon breeze, sending small tufts of soft seedlings into the air around the band of Sisters as they waited. Tufts of sedge framed by thistles grew from the gaps where parts of the wall had eroded into the marsh. On both sides the road was framed by water. So far, Isidore had seen several pond skaters, damselflies darting from bank to bank, a couple of red-banded grasshoppers and one large water beetle. There had also been some kind of spider, bloated and swollen, dragging its leaking abdomen across the verge with several stubby legs that had a remarkable resemblance to human fingers. Gol-touched and pitiable. Isidore had squashed it beneath their heel without a second thought.

“There, there, just let it out.” They placed a comforting hand upon Claudia’s quivering shoulder, and watched as the water below the bushes was gradually infused with a sickly shade of spew. There were maggots in the water here, writhing under the surface. Some dead fish, perhaps, was lurking beneath.

“Oh, what’s happening to me…” There was a pause as she gagged, but nothing further came up. She had a hand on her belly, swollen and hard to the touch. “I don’t know what I ate for this to happen. My stomach hurts so.”

“Let’s pop you on the cart for now, and maybe we will find something to settle your belly at Ystre.” The village was visible now, not half a mile away. It crawled up the back of a small hill, cobbled roads leaving grey streaks between the houses down into the valley.

“Well I’m not pushing her.” Elizabeth said, and strode on ahead, leaving her side of the cart untended. Isidore took her place, and together with Lydia they trundled onwards.

“I don’t like this.” Lin said. Her long dark hair flicked at her ankles as she paced behind the cart with Freya. “It’s too quiet.”

“Well it’s mostly marshland, what kind of noise were you expecting?” Freya responded.

“It’s not that, it’s the…” She waved a long fingered hand at the surrounding landscape, “...The flavour. It’s not right. The colours are off.”

Freya looked at her askance.

“You don’t get it, I mean, there are Gol out here, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And they stick close by to the outskirts of human settlements?”

“True.”

“So where are they?”

For a while there was only the sound of crickets and the creak of cartwheels before Freya spoke.

“Sleepin’, I guess. Maybe in the water. They don’t like the sun, not a bit, so why should they be out here for all our eyes to see? It’s deeper than you think.”

Lin was staring out across the flats, brows furrowed. The pools of water that dappled the landscape were still and stagnant as the procession began to pass the outer farmhouses of Ystre. Doors hung from their hinges, some shattered but others merely rotting back into the marsh. Moss crept up the timber frames, turning the once-lacquered wood a sodden green. Thatch that was once golden and vivid was now brown and waterlogged, flecked with pale spots of mildew. Without realising it the group had stopped their conversations, a singular instinct telling them to stay small, stay quiet. Only the sound of the cart marked their passage yet even that seemed to have become muffled, as though the wheels remembered the streets in the same way as wood remembered the axe.

The hush was broken by Claudia, who was oblivious to all of this, the atmosphere remaining impenetrable to her as she kept to herself in her own little world.

“Look! That cloud is like a little kitty! Do you see it, Lydia? Do you see it?”

“I see it.” Lydia replied, sotto voce, not looking at either cloud or Claudia.

“Oh, it looks just like Smidgeon.” She said wistfully, her mind filled with the kitchen cat. She was spread out on the cart, one hand still resting lightly near her stomach, the other dangling over the edge as the others pushed the cart up the steep and narrow street.

“We should keep quiet, there could be Gol sheltering in these houses.” Freya reminded them in a whisper. “When we get to the refinery we can relax a little.”

“Why?” Claudia asked, but Freya only put a finger on her lips. The rest of the journey was made in silence. When the cart came to rest, the reason they were able to speak more freely became clear.

“It was a fire.” Freya explained, as she kicked at a charred block of wood, it’s original purpose unidentifiable. “The buildings were all thatched, so shelter isn’t likely.”

She spoke the truth. At the far edge of the village, where the top of the hill flattened out, was the complex of buildings that made up the old miner’s above ground headquarters. Each was roofless, the barley thatch long since burned to nothing. There was still the bitter taste of ash upon the air.

“You don’t think we will find any bodies, do you?” Asked Elizabeth, hand on her rosary.

“Oh how horrid, I should hope not!” Lin scrunched up her nose at the thought.

“Fret not. It was a long time ago, any exposed remains would be long-since scavenged.” Lydia, responded, her voice amplified into echoes as she peered down into a disused well. “Either way, before we start searching we should have lunch. It’s going to be a long afternoon.”

“Agreed.” Freya nodded, and began to distribute neatly folded wax paper bundles of still-warm potato bread and dried meat. Sophie the cook had stayed up late to cure and smoke the thin slices of pork just for their journey, imbuing it with mouthwatering hints of rosemary and sage. The others back at the convent would be eating it fresh, in a meaty broth of similar flavours with potato bread for dipping. Such a bounty was rare. Usually it was a single rabbit or water fowl, strung out as tiny chunks in a watery stew that would last all week. Boar were rarely found this close to the marsh and as such the taste was intoxicating.

“May the Dreamer bless this simple gift, that it should nourish the souls of the departed.”

The words of the prayer drifted through the village as Lin and Elizabeth sacrificed a little of their meal to honour the spirits of the village dead, kneeling in the ashen dirt before a makeshift altar of stones. While they carried out these last rites, Freya and Lydia began searching the houses for telltale signs of pre-processed quicklime while Isidore took Claudia with them to the quarry.

From the top of the hill they could see the white cliffs of excavated limestone leading down to a lake. Most of the tunnels were now underwater, but a few on the far side could be entered from dry land.

“It must have flooded while there were still people living here. See, there’s a boat.” Isidore pointed to the little craft, big enough barely for the two of them, that had been tethered near the bank. The rope was frayed with age but held it strong, the tarred hull holding itself true. After a quick test of weight, Isidore motioned for Claudia to join them. As Isidore’s careful strokes sent them skimming across the water towards the mineshafts, dragonflies banded in green and turquoise followed the boat.

“Do you like insects, Izzy?”

“Hmm?”

“I see you looking at them. Do they bother you?”

“Not at all. I find them magnificent.”

Claudia let a smile drift across her face.

“I don’t see you around much.” She said, after a moment of silence.

“I keep to myself. Rather, I haven’t taken orders, so I’m not really allowed within the grounds except on business.”

“Do you see a lot of Gol from the gatehouse?”

“Yes.” They did not offer any further comment, and Claudia did not push it until they reached the shore.

“Have you ever seen a Gol-touched bug?” She asked while Isidore dragged the boat up the shingle. There was a cave mouth ahead, dark and foreboding with a tongue of rusty iron rails running from the beach straight into the hillside depths. Wooden supports framed the entrance, but did not look very sturdy now. Claudia was taking all this in when she realised Isidore looked suddenly serious.

“Why do you ask? Is this something you’ve come across? Tell me, Claudia.”

“I’ve seen one, or two. In the bathroom. In the larder. I used to be scared of them, but… Not anymore.”

Isidore was close to her now, their eyes distracted, searching, peering into her own with intensity.

“Did you ever let them touch you? Have you been bitten?”

Claudia met their gaze with a self-possessed ease far from the mannerisms of the sickly girl she had been on the trip so far.

“Would it scare you if I had been?”

“Certainly, as all those who come in contact with a Gol lose their humanity. you have heard the tales, I’m sure.” Isidore looked now at the way the young woman comported herself. Even beneath the heavy fabrics of her habit it was clear that she was holding herself stiffly, her shoulders taught and arms curled inwards. Isidore’s face shifted to one of sympathy.

“You can tell me, you know. I can help.”

“A kind offer. But really Izzy, I’m fine.” Claudia patted the gatekeeper on the shoulder. “Shall we?”

The mine was surprisingly well-kept for such an old tunnel. The floor was smooth and free of debris, though their lanterns cast little light and the gloom remained impenetrable.

“What is it we’re looking for?” Claudia’s voice echoed down the corridor.

“Lime powder. This whole tunnel is made out of limestone, but it’ll be easier to find some already extracted. Freya and the others are gathering quicklime from the houses, but if it’s been improperly stored then we might need to make our own. I can’t say that those ruins would have offered much protection from the rain, so let’s get as much as we can.”

Sure enough, not far into the passage there was a borehole where larger chunks had been excavated, leaving mounds of powdered limestone on the floor. They were able to fill three large, hessian flour bags between the two of them and carry them back to the beach. The boat sat low in the water as Isidore carefully paddled them back across the water, though there were a few times when a shift in weight let on water, and Claudia’s skirts were wet through by the time they got to shore.

There was no-one else at the cart.

“Lydia! Freya! Eliz-” Isidore’s hand shot out and covered Claudia’s mouth.

“Quiet. What do you think you’re doing?”

But before she could reply there came a rustling from one of the houses, as though some large-sized creature were waking from its slumber. Isidore brandished a long, silver-inlaid knife that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Peace, peace. It’s only me.” Lin unfurled herself from the doorway, hands raised.

“Where are the others?” Isidore asked, lowering the blade.

“This way, quickly. Bring the rope. Oh please hurry!”

They followed her into the cottage, the back wall of which had fallen in, making for an easy entrance to the second floor of the house next door, which could be reached via wooden planks.

“I didn’t know you had a knife, Izzy.” Claudia asked, as though their brisk pace was the most normal thing in the world.

“It’s a dirk. I always carry it. Hush.”

Lin gestured for them to follow closely. Beneath their feet there came a clack, clack.

“This was a storage house, but we couldn’t find a way in from the street. The door wouldn’t budge. Turns out, it was blocked by this enormous Gol! And we woke it with our banging! Oh Isidore, please, I’m so afraid. No powder could be worth this. I was able to get out because I’m so tall, but the others have barricaded themselves in the back room.”

They could hear it now, a quiet sobbing from the floor below. A familiar, human sound behind the clack.

“This way.” Lin led them down the corridor, and to a hole in the floor. Below they could see the rest of the party, huddled together in the chamber below.

“Oh thank the Lord you’re finally here. Quickly now, the rope!” Lydia was the first to leap into action while the others seemed unresponsive, numb with shock. Elizabeth tied a sling and helped Freya climb into it, and it wasn’t long before everyone was standing safely on the second floor.

“Freya, what’s wrong?” Isidore asked her.

Freya, who had been cradling her arm in front of her, held it out for inspection. She had removed the sleeve and imprinted on the skin of her forearm was unmistakably the angular, haphazard tooth marks from a Gol.

Clack, clack.

“You were bitten? How badly? Did it break the skin?”

Freya nodded, her eyes squeezed shut in pain. A trickle of red ran down her arm and off the end of her finger, disappearing somewhere between the floorboards.

“I-I think it’s broken. It bit me so hard! Ah, it hurts!” She sucked air between her teeth and winced.

“Izzy, what are you doing?” At Claudia’s words the room turned to face the gatekeeper, who was holding aloft their gilded knife, silver flashing in the dim light. Their face was set in stone.

“You heard her. She’s been contaminated. At the very least we need to take the arm off.”

With a quick, no-nonsense movement Lydia pushed the knife down to Isidore’s side.

“We have a doctor waiting at home. We will be back at Palus Somni before nightfall. No arguments, do you understand?”

Isidore nodded, but their face kept the same dour expression. As they made their way back to the cart, Lydia stayed behind. She could see its face through the cracks in the floorboards. It’s sleepy features, shallow and morbid, were small compared to its mouth. Slablike teeth were set into a terrifying grin, and it snapped them together with that grisly clack, such as pebbles knapping flint. It did not notice her. At some point, it looked like someone had attempted to bind its mouth closed with bandages, which had since broken and fluttered aimlessly around its head. As she watched, it reached into a barrel with it’s broken, hand-like stump and pulled out a scraping of red rock, pushing it mindlessly into its toothy maw. The sound of those grinding teeth filled the room with a crumbling clamour. It put its paw back in the barrel, but found nothing more to eat.

Pitiful, she thought. It had been more interested in eating its fill than in the humans, but had moved like lightning to guard it’s precious crimson treasure. She had felt a malicious joy in taking it’s meal from it, though a part of her felt bad that Freya had suffered so for her mischief.

She spat on its head. It looked up at her with its doughy face, and for a moment the grinding stopped.

Good, she thought. Let it see me. Let it see the faith it can never penetrate.

“You want this, hmm?” She held up a nugget of the pearl iron between thumb and forefinger. She had poured the rest out the window, but it did not need to know that. The Gol watched it intently, silently, its eyes moving with it. It reached its arms up, but they were small and stubby and did come anywhere near the ceiling.

“Well, too bad! It’s mine now.” And she stuck out her tongue with childish glee. The beast’s features were blank, perhaps it didn’t understand after all. That only made her angry, and she spat on it again before turning on her heel in disdain.

“Lydia, what took you? We have to go, it’s getting late already.” Elizabeth said while securing the last of the bags in place. The cart was laden with both their spoils and with Freya, who found herself too weak to walk. Claudia had given up her place on the cart, but was too ill to push, so the majority of the work was down to Lydia, Elizabeth and Lin. It was not yet dark, but their accident had cost them valuable time and the sun was almost setting.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Like a crash, coming from the village.”

They stopped the cart and looked back. Though they hadn’t gotten far, the evening fen fog was creeping in, and they could only make out the barest of outlines of the village towers.

“Let’s just keep walking.”

But as they made their way back down the narrow road it became clearer that something was wrong.

“Look! There, did you see that?” Elizabeth grabbed Lydia by the shoulder and pointed behind them. Surely enough, on the road back to the village there was a vaguely humanoid shadow.

“So, we’re being followed.” Isidore muttered. “It’s the fog no doubt, it’s blocking the sunlight earlier than expected. Let’s move!”

They picked up the pace and even Claudia helped them push the cart. The shadow behind them didn’t seem to get any closer, but the fog was also getting thicker. Now it had broken it’s way outside the building they could see it more clearly. The rock-eating gol was almost as wide as it was tall, with short arms that ended in stumps stained red. It might have been a trick of the light, but Lin was sure she could see the light reflecting from those giant teeth. A disembodied smile following them through the fog.