Chapter 48

Katarina awoke with a thump on the cabin door. She’d mercifully slept most of the journey. The constant heaving up and down was horrific, and so she’d wrapped herself in her bedroll and curled up in a ball on her bunk and pretended to sleep until real sleep claimed her.

The captain of the ship had been grimy and possessed of a certain rakish mien, but he was polite, a distinct change from when she’d first met him.

He’d been hostile and quoted her an impossible price, despite the fact that she had shown her Writ and Warrant. Katarina disputed the price, telling him she could buy her own ship and captain for that amount. He blithely encouraged her to do so, at which point she’d stacked steel coins in his hand and smugly told him that he belonged to her, now. After the shock of seeing ten steel talents counted into his hand he’d become immediately contrite and obedient.

As they sailed, she had her choice of salt pork, sauerkraut, or crocks of pea soup for her meals, a tiny cabin, all the rum she could drink, and relative quiet.

"My Lady, we’ve reached the harbor of Ardeal. I know you ordered us to avoid entering, so we’re holding station just offside." He announced from the other side of the door. She’d made sure to insist he not enter unless invited; the hungry looks he gave her when he thought she wasn’t looking put her on her guard.

She rolled out of her bunk and opened the door.

"I’d heard cutters were fast but I didn’t have any idea they were this quick." she marvelled with unvarnished honesty. "It’s safe to go topside?" She asked, and he nodded.

When she wasn’t trying to sleep she’d treated her coat and hat to improve the waterproofing. That blasphemous monstrosity she’d dispatched in Einsamkeit had babbled about a "black rain", and that was concerning.

She stepped to the railing.

"You see, my Lady," He pointed out, drawing his finger across the horizon. A strange storm boiled over the land, silvery-edged black clouds churned with flashes of sickly green and angry red flickers. She nodded.

"Strange it doesn’t extend out past the land." he remarked. "Storms don’t behave that way."

"I don’t want any of you getting in that." She replied after a long examination of the shattered and stained lighthouses at the mouth of the harbor, for which he nodded gratefully.

"My heartfelt thanks." He remarked sincerely. "We might be able to make the harbor, but lookout says there’s ships sunk down there. I don’t know how many, or how deep they are. I’d feel more comfortable about going in there if we had a spotter." He advised.

She shook her head emphatically. "No. For now, we park outside the harbor. I don’t want you or the crew exposed to whatever’s out there. Have you a rowboat?"

"We have one." he confirmed easily. "It’ll take the better part of a day, but you could make it to the harbor. From there-" He hesitated. "How long do you expect to be gone?" He asked.

"How much supplies do you have?" She asked, and he raised an eyebrow. "We’ve got enough to keep us fed for a month if we’re desperate." He rolled his eyes, and added, "Though we could just jaunt over to Blackwall and resupply in a matter of a day or so."

Katarina nodded. "If I’m not back in a week, go to Blackwater and stand by there. That’s where I’ll meet you."

He nodded and shouted orders for the rowboat to be brought around. She touched his arm, calling his attention to her.

"What do you know of the city?" She asked, and he gave her a bland shrug. "Not much. We never went much further than docktown." He replied apologetically. She let out a sigh at that and nodded again.

The trip through the harbor was uncomfortably silent. Just the scrape of the oars and the liquid sounds of the ocean as she pulled towards the harbor. She took the time to pray and reflect on what had led her to this point.

She’d received the order to hunt down her sister in Aston. Her sister Alsabet had been working in a city to the south, Norn. She’d arrived in Norn to discover not only did Alsabet escape the church, but a number of other mages as well. Katarina had found demons and beastmen and shambling undead in the same woods her sister had fled into, as well as another Witch Hunter, though he had fallen from the Golden Lady’s holy purpose. She killed him, but not before he wounded her. She met Indigo, a Witch Hunter Initiate undergoing a survival test in the same valley she’d had her own test years prior. They’d run into the Children of the Goddess, a tribe of people that worshipped the Goddess, but lived apart from the Church of the Anglish Empire. There she’d received miraculous healing, and journeyed south to Begierde. In Begierde she’d learned the Church had filed charges against her: mutancy and conspiracy with mages. She’d originally intended on taking a boat to Darnell, the capital of the Anglish Empire and refute those charges. Instead, she’d learned that a sorcerous storm had destroyed her family’s homeland; the country of Ardeal, bringing a curse of blasphemous monstrosity.

"Why, oh Goddess, didn’t I just go to Darnell?" She wondered aloud. She rolled her eyes. "No matter what, whatever I choose, it’s infinitely better than Darnell." She griped. She peeked behind her; the docks were coming up shortly.

"Besides, it’s my responsibility to seek out and destroy foul sorcery." She said by way of excuse. "Likely the charges are trumped up bullshit designed to get me trotting back to Darnell so they can find some new and exciting way of fucking up my life." She griped as she shipped the oars, gathered her packs, and reached for the ladder that led up to the docks themselves.

The docks were deserted, lending them an eerie, lonesome quality. The dockwood itself was stained a black that didn’t have the tacky grip of pitch under her boots. The shops, warehouses, taverns, and whore’s cribs that all crammed and jostled each other in the area were abandoned and empty. Not just of people. There were no rats, no cats, dogs, or birds, and all the trees were skeletal and dead. Katarina kept her hand on her gun the entire time she searched.

She found a cobbled road leading up a hill and began the trek, already regretting leaving her horse behind in Einsamkeit, though there would have been no realistic way to transport it on the cutter, much less make it to shore. Despite all that, she missed her horses’ presence. Not only for the freedom of travel, her horse had been her only companion for the past ten years. The sense of abandonment and loneliness pressed down on her.

Along the way she spotted an overturned cart, but that was all. Overhead, the clouds rumbled. Katarina tugged her hat on her head and drew her coat a little closer, and recited the prayer that allowed her to extend her magical resistance out from her in a bubble. She then invoked the White Doctrine, and prayed to the Goddess for protection. Thus armored in her faith, she continued up the hill.

When she reached the top of the hill, the city spread out in front of her like a vast ocean of carved stone. Like the docks, it appeared to be deserted. All the color seemed washed out of the city; everything looked as if black paint had rained down from the skies. The roofs were uniformly black, the walls were streaked and splattered. No living thing grew. All the buildings carried the characteristic high gothic style, with thin, spindly towers, wrought iron finials, lancet windows and peaked arches.

Katarina grimly marched through the city, through a deserted market and shopping district, through empty shops and stalls. Her ability to sense magic was screaming at her; the stormclouds overhead were rife with the foulest magics she’d ever experienced. It was a horrible feeling, the menacing weight of corruption pressed down on her, sapping her will. The vast city spread out before her, yet she struggled with the horrifying sense of being cut off from everything. She’d been alone for most of the past ten years of her life, but it was nothing compared to this. She was in a foreign land, she had no horse, no supplies, her Church had declared anathema against her, and it almost seemed like she couldn’t remember the last time she’d saw the sun.

She reached the center of this shopping district and discovered a well filled with foul-smelling water. She immediately dropped the bucket back down the well with a disgusted grimace, staunchly ignoring the ominous feeling of not being able to secure food and water.

She spotted the church, which should have been a grand and golden affair, but instead was a jumble of shattered and stained stone rubble. Whatever else the rain was, it seemed to leech the stone, leaving it weak and crumbly. The metal fencing and finials were all mangled and corroded, the rain warping and twisting the metal.

The meager daylight was fading as the clouds built in intensity.

She rounded a corner and jolted. On the wall of a shop that presumably had offered fruit at some point in time based on the blackened sign hanging listlessly was a message in dripping white paint still wet to the touch:

LADY

RUN

Katarina spun about, hand on her gun. Her gun was thrumming, a dull vibration that settled into her hand. She heard no footsteps, no rustling or scraping.

"You’re pissed, aren’t you?" Katarina remarked at her gun, and nodded. "Myself as well." She glanced at the sky. "Though I imagine you’re a bit more pissed off." She murmured.

A cannonade of thunder cracked the air directly overhead, and Katarina moved without thinking, her training causing her to leap back, back against the building and under the eaves with the painted message, gun out and high.

As Katarina struggled to catch her breath, the black rain began to fall.

It didn’t fall like a normal rainstorm, where the rain fell a few drops at a time, building to a torrent. That peal of thunder seemed to shock the rain into falling and it did in a constant, roaring downpour. Katarina prayed nonstop as the rain hammered down.

Suddenly, doors opened, shuttered windows blew open, fiendish creatures out of nightmare rushed out, frolicking and cavorting, twisting and flinging their bodies about as they worked themselves into frenzied paroxysms of lunacy. They screamed and screeched and shouted and laughed and gouged at their flesh as they feverishly pranced about. Some flung their heads back to catch the dark liquid in their mouths, others grappled or molested each other. Strangely, none of the rain fell within her bubble of antimagic.

Katarina eyed her gun, and then her sword. There were simply too many for her to deal with alone. She tucked her weapons away and eyed the shop; she should be able to make the jump safely. She leapt to the roof of the building next to it, and pulled herself up the steep incline to the finials along the high roof ridge. Once safely on the widow’s walk, she turned back towards the capering things.

"Let all those who fear the Goddess feel her wrath." Katarina spoke coldly, raising her hand and a brilliant lance of searing light launched from her palm.

It struck one of the figures, who gibbered and screeched and writhed and then simply vanished in searing motes that winked out.

Instantly, they rushed the building she was on.

Katarina laughed as a wild surge of adrenaline sped through her crazily. "Good! Great! Come!" She shouted, and aimed with her gun and fired. One of the creatures blew apart in a gout of blood and shredded clothes and Katarina’s eyes widened. She raised her hand to the sky. "Let The Goddesses’ holy light blow apart this storm!" She shouted and a pillar of fire punched through the clouds, hit the ground and boiled out in a searing blast of fire that set dozens of them alight. Fire boiled down the streets and raced down narrow alleyways. They screamed and wailed, fell to the ground and beat at the fire which clung to them. Where they once tore at their flesh in glee and lunatic exultation, they now frantically tore at their flesh in pain.

Katarina fired again and a woman blew apart.

"Simurgh!" Katarina shouted. "Bring the storm! Bring the thunders! Bring the hail and lightning and scourge these blighted abominations!" She yelled frenetically, and fired again and watch another of the monstrosities explode apart.

A shattering cavalcade of thunder blasted overhead and a dozen, a hundred, a thousand bolts of lightning hit the ground simultaneously. Those caught in the bolts disintegrated. The ground groaned and cracked and heaved, the air reeked with the stench of ozone. Stores exploded, collapsed, fell away to rubble. A whirling spout of wind and clouds suddenly tore down from the heavens and touched down on one of the largest buildings, which blew apart. Lightning struck the tower behind her, blasting her off the roof. She sailed through the air and hit the ground hard. She rolled to her feet and levelled her gun.

Katarina couldn’t hear anything. She was screaming, but couldn’t hear her own voice. Each gunshot was a lance of light in the black; each shot found a mark and tore the target apart. Katarina couldn’t remember reloading but she kept pulling the trigger. Suddenly, the lightning disappeared, and darkness swallowed her.

She couldn't tell if she was awake or dreaming, but the woman in front of her seemed real enough. "For a human, you did very well." Simurgh praised. "There aren’t many in the world that could wield me as effectively as you have." She encouraged, and then bowed her head. "The Black Rain is gone, for now." She reported. "The skies are purged of its taint. It will return if you do not stop it for good." She added. She glanced at her hands; her skin was transparent. "One final thing: storms come and they go. You will not be able to call on me as you did again for some time." She advised as she disappeared.

Katarina was awake, or at least she thought she was. Voices argued around her.

"It’s a wonder she wasn’t hit."

"She almost was."

"I’ve never seen lightning do that."

"Who is she, though?"

"She looks like a Noble."

She thought she introduced herself, but she couldn’t hear her own voice. She drifted away again.

When Katarina awoke, she was wrapped in darkness. She struggled to a sitting position, and felt pressure about her temples. She raised a hand to her face and felt bandages. Her eyes were bound, and there was a thin, high whistling in her ears.

"What is this?" She asked, baffled.

"Hello, Milady." a smooth male voice greeted from her right.

"Who’s there?" She asked, hands reaching out. She was in a bed of some sort, the blankets puddled around her waist.

"My name is Durin, milady. There’s a lot to explain. I don’t know how much of it you’ll understand." the man replied, taking one of her hands in his. His hands were thick and calloused, with short fingers that were hard with callouses.

"Do you know who I am?" She asked, and she heard cloth shifting, the sound of someone adjusting their posture in their seat.

"You told us, milady." he admitted. "More than a few times. ‘Katarina lon Pavlenko, Witch Hunter in service to the Golden Lady’." he recited. Was there a hint of amusement in the irony so plain in his voice?

"So talk." She replied curtly.

"There aren’t many of us left, milady. Normal people, that is. Good job killing most of them, by the way." He added.

"Them?" She asked, and he sighed. "You know. You saw them, milady."

She nodded. She had, at that. "I killed one of them in Einsamkeit." She replied. "That’s what led me here, actually."

He made a choking noise in his throat. "You’re from Einsamkeit?! Have you a ship, then, milady?" he asked, unable to keep the naked eagerness from his voice. "How did you make it into the harbor? Can you take us with you?" he blurted suddenly.

"Maybe." She replied evasively. "Tell me about them. And the black rain."

After a moment he began.

"We’ve been working diligently for your family, milady. Not just with the trade goods, but also for the Grand Exodus." He added.

She frowned at that. She wasn’t familiar with the term, and said so.

"I’m not surprised, milady. There aren’t many who know of it, after all." He replied. "But the House of Pavlenko have always dealt straight with their folk, and I’m a Pavlenko man to the end, milady. They told us that nightmares were coming from the Samarkand Highlands. We were to prepare for the Grand Exodus, a migration across the Sea of Mirras to Hesperia. And so we did, until the Black Rain came."

Katarina took a deep breath and let it out. "The... things? What do you know about them?"

"Anyone touched by the rain becomes one of them, milady. Doesn’t seem to matter how much or how little. One drop on the skin and you’re cursed. They devour everyone and everything around them that aren’t ... changed, like they are. They live off the rain, I think. We’ve survived by hiding. There aren’t many of us left, I think. I don’t really know, milady."

"Tell me about the black rain." Katarina gestured imperiously.

"Not much to tell, milady. The storm came from the south. The rest you know." he explained.

"The black rain is gone for now." Katarina reported. "I don’t know for how long." She added. "I don’t know if there are any of them left." She added.

"Too many uncertainties." He agreed.

"Why have my eyes been bandaged?" She asked, fingers exploring the cloth.

He let out a breath. "I don’t know if it was from all the lightning, or your fall from the roof, but it’s our guess that you’re blind."

She tugged at the bandages and they fell away. She opened her eyes and blinked; nothing.

"Fantastic." She muttered.

"Your eyesight may come back on its own. I don’t know. I’m no healer. Frankly milady, I make wheels."

She snorted laughter, and he joined in.

"How many of you remain?" she asked.

"Not many, milady. Maybe a dozen. There are five here."

"I don’t suppose you happen to have a horse?" She asked hopefully. He chuckled. "What good would it do?" he asked. "You’re blind."

"I mean to stop the Black Rain for good." She decided, and nodded after a second of thought. The decision felt right in her heart.

"Milady, forgive me for saying so, but you’re not really in a condition to go anywhere."

She shook her head. "The Goddess will take me where I need to be." She replied simply.

"Your faith is certainly magnificent, milady." he agreed. "And no one can doubt your prowess. I’ll see what we can do for a horse." he advised. "But please, tell me we can leave on your ship. This land is polluted, cursed. We can’t live here anymore. Nothing grows, and even if it could, who would be daft enough to eat what grew?"

"The ship I came in was built for speed." She replied reluctantly. "There’s simply no room on board for refugees." She explained for a heavy heart.

He let out a sigh. "That leaves only south."

"What about Blackwall?" She asked. "Blackwall hasn’t fallen." She affirmed. He shook his head. "The Blackwall Mountains between us are impassible. Even the Black Rain couldn’t get through it. We would have to go south hundreds of miles, and then west to reach the pass." He replied and shook his head, though Katarina couldn’t see it. "Risky."

"You said the storm come from the south?" She asked. He nodded, and added an affirmative. "Yes, which is frankly unnatural. It came from the southeast."

"What’s out that way?" She asked, and his mouth twisted. "A number of cities. Muntenia, Oltenia, Crisania. An old castle that belongs to the House of Pavlenko is out that way, milady."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh?" She asked, and he nodded. "Schachtice, along the Sterious. It was abandoned by the House of Pavlenko some eight hundred years ago." He added.

"For a wheelwright, you seem awfully knowledgeable about things." She replied suspiciously. He chuckled at that. "I’m just repeating common knowledge." He replied simply. "The House of Pavlenko have a great deal of history here."

She let out a breath. "What else is out east?" She asked, and he shook his head. "You don’t want to go east, milady." He advised. "That way lies Samarkand, the highlands of the Lyonesse. All manner of evil lies that way. So we’ve been told by your family."

"The Black Cities." She breathed, and he nodded. "Just so." He replied, and crossed his hands over his chest, a peasant’s warding gesture against evil.

"Well, we’ll figure out what needs to be done." He advised briskly. "In the meantime, you should lay back and get some rest."

Katarina nodded and lay back down and closed her eyes. She whispered a prayer to the Golden Lady, and slipped into sleep effortlessly.