A scratching noise startled her from her struggle and she sprung up to see marks appearing on the wall. Frowning, she glanced around but could see no one else in the room. Still, the marks carved onto the stone, scraping off paint. Get out. Despite the rough scratching, it was definitely the symbol for leave. Kilai froze, the realisation hitting her. It shouldn’t be possible for Rook to send her this message but she was learning that impossible meant very little these days.
She was left with a choice. Either she could stay and try to wrestle what control she could from the mayhem, watch her father wither and die, and possibly find these snakes turning on her if they thought she would continue to be a nuisance. She could turn in Viktor and earn herself some clout with them for stopping the one who had just destroyed their ship and killed several lives. Or there was yet another option – to honour the vow she had made to Rook. A glance back at her father helped her steel her resolve. There was only one real choice. The only one she could live with. And that was to fulfil her promise.
Kilai packed up some of her things into a bag, including some basic supplies. She grabbed her cloak and wound a scarf around her head, shielding her face as much as she could from view. Pressing a kiss to her father’s forehead, she forced herself to turn away with a shuddering breath, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. She left a letter she had written on the bedside table, not knowing if he would ever be able to read it but needing to leave it there anyway. The ink had run where her tears had fallen. The first step was the hardest but the next few got a little easier.
It was time she found her own path, instead of trying to be her father. The lie had only led her astray and she now had to make up for lost ground. Now she had to find out who she really was when she was in charge of her own destiny.
Kilai shut the door with a soft click and made her way to the stairs, conscious of the open door to her office. Even if Dakanan saw her leave she doubted he would care. He had bigger problems now than her diving off a burning ship. She imagined it wouldn’t be long before they sent reinforcements and that wasn’t something she wanted to stick around for.
“Where are you going?”
Kilai started, glancing up at Yshi atop the staircase, hand resting on the handle of the sword strapped to her side. “I’m leaving. There’s no place for me here.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She swallowed and raised her chin. “Are you going to stop me?”
Yshi’s eyes brushed over her, appraising. “That depends on what you’re going to do. For your own safety, I recommend you stay here.”
“Your recommendations are appreciated, Yshi-all. Pardon me if I do not heed them.” She turned and walked away, resisting the urge to look back.
“Wait!”
Kilai grabbed the door and stole out into the street, slamming it shut behind her. A scrabbling noise followed her, muffled by the door, and she scurried out into the alley beyond. Dank water splashed beneath her boots, the stench nearly as bad as the thick smoke wafting up from the bay, and she pulled her scarf over her nose. This city was in her veins; if she kept her head down and kept moving she could easily outrun Yshi. Then she could make a new plan for where to go from there. The thought nearly made her stumble. Her life would look very different going forward and that knowledge felt dangerous, like she had jumped into the abyss feet first without knowing what lay at the bottom.
A yell from nearby startled her and she crouched down in the space between two buildings, breathing hard whilst staring into a hazy sky. The blast of a gunshot reverberated through her – too close, far too close – and then the scraping of tiles as one bounced and smashed next to her. She dove out of the way, clay spraying in a cloud. Kilai pressed herself tight into the wall as footsteps pounded past her, catching a flash of indigo out of the corner of her eye. Hand pressed to her chest, she allowed herself a few moments of deep breathing and then reminded herself that she was okay. They weren’t after her. They wouldn’t hurt her. The niggling sensation beneath her skin persisted but she pushed herself to her feet with enough force to thrust the thought away.
Every few seconds she checked behind her as she ran, wishing she had some kind of fighting experience. If she was attacked, she was unable to defend herself, and the knowledge was heavy to carry, slowing her as she took her time to check her surroundings. Noises surrounded from all around her, surrounding and engulfing.
A flicker of colour out of her peripheral vision caught her attention and she turned to see a small riftspawn shaped like a paper crane circling down towards her. Recoiling on instinct, her back hit brick behind her and she froze, staring. It fluttered on its translucent wings, hovering at her eye level. When it didn’t come any closer she felt herself relax just a little, standing straighter. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say it was trying to communicate with her.
“I don’t understand you, you know,” she said. “I don’t––”
A scream tore from her throat as it dove nose first towards her. She was overcome by a sudden chill, ice in her veins, and a wash of understanding. It was a vision of Rook lying in a pool of blood, eyes unblinking as they stared at the sky. Their pale, icy grey colour caught the light, shining, and in the sudden flare of light the vision changed to a world unrecognisable, teaming with creatures she did not recognise. War, marching bluecoats. Viktor, anger in his eyes. Not Viktor. A man well known to history, once cruel and terrible.
Kilai gasped, reeling back. “Viktor… I think I know who he is.” It was hard to believe but she shook her head. At that moment he wasn’t the priority. “Show me where they are.”
The crane let out a cry that sounded like a high-pitched whistle and then swept out towards the next street. Kilai ran after it, nearly tripping because her eyes were on its shimmering form as it crested invisible waves, looking far less urgent that she felt the situation really called for. Did it understand? It had been the one to show her the vision but did it know that time was running out?
Even as she ran into the danger, she couldn’t help but wonder what she could really do. Was she supposed to help fight a contingent of soldiers? There wasn’t anyway she could. Still, she followed. As reckless as it might have been, she’d made her choice. Kilai had tried walking away and found she couldn’t do it. Apparently she cared more about the world than she’d tricked herself into believing.
As she ran she lost sight of the crane and stumbled, hand catching herself against the grimy wall of an alley. Cursing, she scanned all around her but couldn’t see it, wiping her hand on her skirts with a grimace. She was glad she couldn’t see what she looked like right now; she doubted she’d recognise herself.
Something in the air changed. It was a kind of humming vibration that started at the same time as the temperature dropped from balmy to chilly in a matter of seconds, her skin turning to gooseflesh. The alley darkened suddenly, and she realised when she looked up that it was caused by a sky blanketed by riftspawn, swirling and writhing in one great mass. She was so consumed by the sight she nearly missed the creature that emerged from the far wall – a great, hulking beast shaped like the great gaping whales that swam the waters of the coast – but with eyes all along its form that glowed yellow, blinking at her. Its mouth yawned into a black hole, growing larger and larger as it loomed closer.
It was nearly impossible to look away from, the starry haze inside its gaping mouth hypnotic in a way that lured her in. She found herself lost in the circling motions, taking a step towards it without realising. She was spellbound. That was, until she noticed the little crane flitting into view, breaking the spell that had come over her. Throwing herself backwards, she just managed to escape the reach of its swinging jaw, crashing to the ground with a thud. Wincing at the pain of her landing, she watched as the small flickering shape of the crane put itself between her and the behemoth, as if somehow to protect her.
Could it stop the creature? Maybe size didn’t apply to strength in the otherworld. She felt a flick
er of hope inside her, until the whale beast swung its jaws open and swallowed her companion in one gulp. Kilai shivered. Her bones were stiff and she didn’t know whether it was due to cold or fear. A shuddering breath heaved from her trembling shoulders. Hundreds of eyes swivelled towards her, blinking slowly, and then it began to drift towards her again.
Scrambling up, Kilai bolted with all the strength she had left, trying to take a route that wound tightly around the buildings, to no avail. The riftspawn pierced the wall and cut her off, still moving at that strange drifting pace, as if rather than hunting her it was merely pulled in by her orbit. It was uncanny.
Her mind kept telling her she had no way to fight this thing off – she didn’t even know what it was – but she kept running because it was all she could do. Street after street, her feet pounded the road, her ragged breaths resounding in her ears. How was she supposed to escape something that could travel through any surface? If it didn’t give up chase there was no escape. Keep running. The images of a possessed Alik flashed before her eyes, flesh slaking from bone. She couldn’t let that be her fate.
The moment’s hesitation allowed the riftspawn to catch her and she gasped as its form lost shape, sagging like melted wax. All those myriad eyes still blinked slowly. The way they looked at her prickled her skin and she pressed herself into the wall, looking away only to see its deformed reflection in a puddle of water. She couldn’t tear her mind away from what it might do to her if it possessed her. Her imagination concocted terrible pictures; each more horrible than the last. Melting, sagging skin. Dead eyes. Unspeakable horrors.
It drifted closer. She didn’t know why, but the drifting was worse than if it had raced after her, something about the movement bearing an eerie quality in the way it tricked the eye. Kilai gulped as it came close enough for her to feel the strange crackling tension that surrounded its form; close enough for her to see the swirling galaxy beyond. Heart thumping and her legs heavy, she forced them to spring her out of the way just as the riftspawn plunged into the wall behind her and disappeared. The fear lingered but she allowed herself a moment to breathe, wiping her hair back from her face.
No time to dwell. Dusting herself off as well as she could, she pushed her stiff legs on, not allowing herself to look back. The streets had a sinister quality under the hazy gloom of a clouded sky, not a living soul to be seen. She rounded the corner of one structure to see a man hanging from a window ledge, blood dripping past his outstretched arms in crimson veins against white paint, collecting in the gutter and running down the gentle slope of the hill. What had become of this city? Under her rule it had festered and died.
So preoccupied with her thoughts was she that she didn’t register the voices coming from outside the library. Against the great oaken doors with their hands raised were Rook and Janus, both worse for wear. They were surrounded by a crescent of bluecoats, rifles pointed on them. From this vantage point, the smouldering ruins out in the bay were visible and the smoke wafted on the ocean breeze, only serving to remind all of the stakes.
Rook tried to speak but she was pressed into silence by the leader, prodding her with his gun. “Quiet, pjurrei!” he hissed.
At least they weren’t at the gallows. Yet. “Stand down!” she yelled before rational thought could catch up to her. So she picked up the remains of her skirts and traipsed over with her head held high. Her appearance left much to be desired, but authority was more in the posture anyway; something that had long been pressed into her as a child.
Sure enough, the soldiers drew back on reflex, then looked amongst each other in confusion. She continued to stride, fixing their leader with a glare. Behind them Rook grinned. “Stand aside,” she said, calmer, meeting each gaze in turn. The gall appalled her when her shirt was ripped and stained, her hair a red storm around her head.
“Who are you?” said the leader, stepping forward. He was tall, broad shouldered, and he squinted down at her as if to emphasise the height difference.
“I’m Kilai Shaikuro, acting governor, and these two are in my employ.”
“That so? Do you know that these two were spotted colluding with the rebels?”
“Then let me take care of it, officer. Go back to your duty.”
He moved as if he were about to do just that and then turned back. “Sorry, but I don’t recognise your authority in this situation. In fact, if I recall correctly, weren’t you implicated with the demon that set the ship on fire?”
This really wasn’t going how she had hoped. It was as if everything that could go wrong for her would. Their expressions hardened. She had to talk her way out of this one or she’d be strung up with the rest. “Perhaps I should talk to your commanding office, soldier. Who might that be?”
To her frustration he wasn’t even looking at her, eyes sliding off her to a point behind her. Looks of disbelief and horror rippled across the rest of the bluecoats’ faces. Whipping around with a comment on the tip of her tongue, she was silenced when she saw why. That same whale-shaped spirit loomed towards her, somehow even larger than before. Its translucent body distorted the world behind it, as if no longer abiding by the natural laws. A shrill ringing pierced the air and she clapped her hands over her head, wincing as the sound rang in her eardrums.
One of the bluecoats fired off a shot but it cut straight through the creature, hitting a window. The glass rained down, sparkling in the light. Rook shoved past them, drawing her riftblades in front of her. “Get behind me.”
There was a murmur of dissension from them but none looked willing to argue. “What is that?” said the youngest, no more than a boy. His eyes were wide and he seemed unable to move.
“Just run! You too,” Rook said to Kilai. “Go with Janus!” She charged towards the riftspawn, whose mouth only widened in anticipation. With a cry, she leapt at it and crossed her blades down in a swinging arc. The creature cleaved in two and Kilai paused in her retreat, thinking it might be over just like that.
Then mist coalesced around the separate parts of the riftspawn and it began to seep back together before her very eyes. The eyes turned a very bright, blood red as a wail ruptured from its mouth; a haunting cry like whale song. It continued towards them.
Rook swore and stumbled back. “New plan. Run!”
Kilai did just that, tearing past the soldiers. They could linger in curiosity all they liked. She’d seen what these riftspawn could do; she wasn’t going to become a meat vessel for this monster. Rook’s voice sounded out behind her, yelling at the soldiers to hurry. The sound of boots against stone vibrated through her as she sprinted, weariness but a shawl she shrugged off with the greed to live.
The sound of a scream finally prompted her to look back, only to wish she hadn’t. One of the bluecoats had been swallowed up by the riftspawn, floating in the shimmering mass of its body. It shone a deep, rich shade of purple as it pressed and folded itself in towards him until he remained, glowing from the inside, light spilling from his eyes and mouth. He appeared to still be conscious as he turned to his companions, mouth shuttering with words he couldn’t say. A hacking cough escaped instead and he grasped at his throat, fingers clawing. His eyes bulged and then his body swelled, limbs stretching out into loose, wobbling strings as if his bones had turned to liquid. The scream from his throat chilled her; harmonising with the shrill wail of the spirit.
He kept stretching and folding in ways a body shouldn’t be capable of and as much as she wanted to look away, bile rising in her gut, she just couldn’t seem to stop staring. Eyes bubbled to the surface like ugly red boils, pupils spinning beneath the skin. An explosion of purple light finally ended his torment, blood and skin and viscera raining down upon the cobbled ground.
The creature remained. Several eyes whirled around and then settled on their scattered party. Kilai wanted to run but all she managed was to stumble to the gutter and retch, wiping her mouth against the bitter aftertaste of vomit. Her legs shook and folded, her hand snapping out to the wall to brace herself.
*
Rook didn’t know as much about riftspawn as she wished she did, but the energy coming off that creature was stifling and she knew that couldn’t be anything but bad. The pressure groaned in her skull and the only relief she could find was to dip into the well of her power, conscious of the way The Rook grasped at their connection with hunger. She didn’t have the luxury to worry about the consequences with the creature bearing down on them, swelling with increased strength. Before it could get any stronger she was going to have to kill it. Somehow.
Surging forward, she caught up to Janus ahead of her. “Someone has to play bait so I can get it while it’s distracted.”
“That would be me, then?”
She looked at him, lips twitching. “You do make good bait.”
“Don’t know why. I’m mostly skin and bone.”
“Dinner’s my treat if we survive.”
The shadow cast by the riftspawn fell upon them, blotting out the night. They met each other’s gaze and nodded. Rook darted off for the closest rooftop, hauling herself up the railing in a flurry of limbs. The spirit song was a haunting melody that shook her to her core; a language she didn’t know and yet understanding reached her anyway. It was a song of loss. This world was as alien to it as it was to them and it felt as adrift, trying to find a way to bridge the gap.
Rook crouched atop the rooftop and watched, bracing herself. Janus remained where he was, staring down the beast coming for him with cold defiance. The soldiers had diffused from their formation after one of their own had been killed and Kilai had ran on at her behest, leaving the two of them to try and end this creature by themselves. At least she wasn’t on her own.
Even though it was too dangerous to allow it to remain, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie for the creature’s melancholy. It didn’t want to hurt, exactly, it was just looking for a way to survive. The game of survival often dealt a cruel hand and sometimes the invitation to the table came with a gun to the head. Idealism was a weed to be stamped out, or so she had been told. She wasn’t sure she believed it yet, but there were times like now when having faith seemed more than she was capable of.
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