Duskwoven

by Carrie Summers

  After a moment, the gate rolled open with a shriek. Beyond spread the desolate grounds of House Ulstat, a sullen place of unadorned buildings and gardens that might once have held blooming trees but now boasted bare-limbed brush and jagged stones.

  “Welcome to House Ulstat,” the prime trader said with only a hint of irony.

  Dragging us forward, the guards remained stony faced. As I entered the compound, I glanced over my shoulder, hoping for a last glimpse of the harbor and the waves that had taken Tyrak. No luck—between the big, ugly buildings and the smog, I saw no water. But as the gate rolled shut, I caught another flicker of motion. I peered, getting up on tiptoes for a better look.

  My breath stopped and my eyes widened when I finally recognized the small figure who’d been shadowing us through the streets.

  Geren, otherwise known as Skink, was a little rat who’d stowed away on the Nocturnai. He’d nearly been killed for it, but that hadn’t dampened his enthusiasm for the resistance on Istanik. Following our capture, he must have hidden aboard the schooner, somehow managed to swim ashore in the night, and followed the guards back to the city. And now, he probably had plans to sneak into the compound and rescue us. If the Ulstats caught him here, he’d never see Istanik again.

  I gritted my teeth so hard I felt the pressure in my eye sockets.

  A dour mood hung inside the Ulstat manor. Trader Ulstat stalked into the entry foyer, a wide, low-ceilinged area floored with black and gray slate, and threw aside my chain. It clanged against the floor while blood from my ankle oozed into my leather shoe. When the front door shut with a thud, plunging the room into near-darkness, the guards dropped the other chains. I squinted through the dimness, trying to get an idea of how secure the door was and whether it had a sturdy lock. A pinch-faced butler stood beside the entrance, eyes fixed on Trader Ulstat. If his loyalty to the House wavered, he wasn’t showing it now.

  Metal chain dragged across stone as Raav shuffled up beside me. I hadn’t changed clothing since the night of the battle for Istanik. After the fighting, the slums hadn’t been safe due to smoldering fires. I hadn't been sure where to wash or even whether my home had escaped the blaze. I probably smelled awful, but I’d long since lost the ability to tell. After a moment, I felt Raav’s arm against my shoulder. His scent, warm like the inside of a cedar chest, filled my nose.

  Unlike me, Raav had returned to his house and bathed between the defeat of the Waikert and Frask’s capture. Still, I had no idea how he’d managed to spend two days locked in a dank ship’s cabin and come out of it smelling so nice. I fought the urge to step away before he caught a whiff of the stench rising off me.

  “Ashhi!” Trader Ulstat yelled, an edge in his voice.

  “His other daughter,” Raav whispered before staggering forward, shoved by a guard’s elbow jammed into his back.

  Moments later, a massive candelabra appeared at the far end of the hallway. Squinting into the light, I picked out two shadows. In front, a wide-shouldered figure in Ulstat livery raised the iron branch of candles high as he entered the foyer, the points of flame casting thousands of shadows.

  Following, a girl of about fifteen tiptoed into the room. Though Ashhi shared her sister’s gaunt frame, the resemblance stopped there. Where Mieshk’s cheekbones were high slashes, a membrane of skin stretched tight over her skull, Ashhi’s face reminded me of the moon, pale and round except for the wide hollows of her eyes. Dark, Kiriilti hair framed her face—I’d never met someone with skin so fair—while her collarbones stood from shoulders as narrow as a birch tree.

  When she spoke, the sound was as weak as a kitten’s mewling. “Father.” Her gaze took the rest of us in. “Who are these people?”

  “Prisoners,” he said simply.

  Ashhi’s eyes fell on my ankle. “She’s bleeding,” she said, before scurrying forward and dropping to the floor in front of me. As if she could pull my leg-iron off with her bare hands, she tugged at the shackle.

  At a growl from Trader Ulstat, his guards sprang on the girl, yanking her away.

  I glanced at Raav, bewildered. Could this really be Mieshk’s sister?

  “We’re leaving within the ten-day,” Trader Ulstat said, locking his daughter in a stare. “To Ioene. You may start packing.”

  Ashhi wriggled free from the guards. “Where’s Lakdiken?” she asked.

  “Our soldiers are working on getting him back,” her father said.

  “You left my brother in Council hands?”

  “There are things far more important than a single child. You should know that by now.”

  Ashhi opened her mouth as if to speak but seemed to change her mind. Probably a good idea. Allowing the silence to linger, Trader Ulstat nodded at the guards. The men stooped to grab our chains.

  “Now wait,” said Trader Ulstat. “Some of them are our guests. Unlock the women and Trader Ovintak.”

  “What about the other two?” Ashhi asked.

  Trader Ulstat rounded on his daughter, snarling. “I’m done with this interrogation. If you have any more questions, we’ll discuss them later. In private.”

  A guard grunted as he bent over and stuck a key into my shackle. When the cuff fell away from my leg, fresh pain radiated from my ankle. I staggered and clenched my fists to keep my balance. Raav swooped in to prop me up. After a moment, he crouched and rolled up my pant leg. Eyes furious, he showed his teeth at Trader Ulstat.

  “All right, where do you want these other two?” a guard asked as he tugged on my family’s chain. Jaret staggered, his eyes wide with fear.

  Trader Ulstat’s mouth drew up in the corner as he turned his gaze on me. “You’ll want them close, won’t you? You’ll want to know they’re nearby, chained to a wall, while you move freely around my home. You’re a Councilor now. It would be a tremendous breach of etiquette for me to leave you in chains. But I can’t have gutter filth sullying my halls.”

  Even my eyeballs felt hot as rage flooded me.

  Turning to his guards, he said, “The rear cellar should do. Make sure the door is barred and let the cook know they’ll need water. And Ashhi, see the others to the guest wing.”

  Trader Ulstat watched while the guards dragged my father and brother deeper into the house. Once they passed from earshot, he yawned. “Ashhi will escort you to suitable bedrooms. You have free movement within my house and grounds. But if you so much as consider an escape—any of you—understand what will happen to Lilik’s family. Within the first hour you’re found missing, the father will die. Within the next, we’ll start hurting her brother. Whether he lives will depend on whether you return before he loses too much blood.”

  With that, he left us alone.

  Throughout House Ulstat, low ceilings pressed down upon wide corridors with bare stone floors. No one spoke as we followed Ashhi Ulstat through her home. When we reached the guest bedrooms, Ashhi nudged open the first door on the right.

  “Yours,” she said to me. “I’ll be back with a healer and clothing.”

  Her gaze fell away as I crossed into the room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I spun and darted back to the entrance, pressing my ear against the oiled wood. But the door was too thick; I could hear nothing from the hallway beyond. I waited for a few breaths then tried the latch. Unlocked. Interesting.

  Around the room, lanterns burned dirty oil in dark-iron holders, their glow unable to chase the shadows from the corners. On one wall, two small windows looked out over Ilaraok. I peered at the smoke-filled streets below. I hoped I’d been mistaken when I thought I saw Geren. A rescue would be nice, but not with Skink leading it. I wanted him safe at home with his family.

  I felt around the edges of the window pane, thick glass wavy with age. If I could get outside without breaking the glass, I could recruit help while the Ulstats slept tonight. Unfortunately, stiff mortar held the pane in place. I pushed my face close to the glass to examine the grounds and defenses. Guard towers stood at the corners of the wall, with two more bracketing the
gate. When we’d arrived, a young boy had been watching the entrance, but I spotted adult figures in each of the posts now. More guards patrolled the perimeter. While I watched, another group of ten or fifteen fighters arrived at the gate. These weren’t just the men who’d gone overland to Ilaraok. Trader Ulstat had said he was gathering support from his strongholds. Every added guard would make escape more difficult—unless I managed to turn them against their House.

  I rubbed my raw ankle. The gash still seeped, dampening the salt-crusted cuff of my pants. Scabs caught on the fabric, and I winced. Best to leave it alone until the healer cleaned the wound.

  Shuffling, I crossed the room to the simple bed. The mattress was hard and the pillow unforgiving, but a peek under the covers showed clean sheets.

  At once, the day's events hit me. I slammed a fist into the pillow. Tyrak was gone, lying somewhere on the seafloor off the coast of Araok Island. My family was imprisoned. Zyri’s Promise had been destroyed in a column of fire that had touched the sky. Who had been aboard when it happened? Tkira? Gaff? Captain Altak for sure. I hoped the end had been quick..

  I wanted to throw myself wide to the aether to draw power like I had on Istanik. With the anger raging through me, I felt like I could demolish walls, crush Trader Ulstat in my bare, spirit-strengthened hands. But I was beyond exhausted. Right now, I could scarcely keep my mental walls solid. My spirit would be shredded if I tried to expand past my body.

  When the door swung open, I turned my glare on Ashhi. The sinking of Zyri’s Promise might not be her fault, but she was still guilty of being an Ulstat. Shoulders hunched over her narrow chest, the girl swallowed as she stepped into the room. She laid a stack of folded clothing against the wall. A commoner shadowed her. Hair braided back from a careworn face, the woman carried a canvas bag in one hand.

  “She’ll see to your ankle. Someone will bring food before nightfall,” Ashhi said before slipping out the door.

  Lips pursed, the healer crossed the room. She motioned for me to sit and knelt before me. With gentle fingers, she rolled up the cuff of my pants and grimaced at the sight of my ankle. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a flask of liquid. Alcohol, I assumed. Wetting a rag, she began to dab at the wound.

  It burned like a hot iron. I jerked away.

  With a clicking sound from her throat, the woman grabbed my calf and held my leg still while she began working at the wound with more force.

  “Trader Ulstat did this, you know that right?” I asked. I needed allies in the house. If I were to guess, a woman who had chosen healing as her profession would have no love for the Ulstats.

  But the healer didn’t answer. With a faint shake of her head, she continued cleaning my wound.

  “My family is being held. Imprisoned. They’re shackled like I was. Probably hurting like I am. Can you help me get word outside the gates?” It was a risk, asking so openly for help. But I didn’t know when I’d get another chance to be alone with someone, away from the watching eyes of the Ulstats.

  In response to my words, the woman dug ragged fingernails into my skin. She looked up at me, a warning in her eyes.

  I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t blame the woman for being afraid to help me, but I wasn’t asking for much. It couldn’t be that hard to send a message to Istanik without the Ulstats knowing.

  “Please. Trader Ulstat will kill my father and brother,” I whispered.

  I jerked when the woman stood and raised her hand as if to slap me. Wide-eyed, she lowered her hand then leaned her face just a hand’s width from mine. When she opened her mouth, I drew back in shock. The healer’s tongue had been cut out, leaving a ragged lump at the back of her throat.

  “Tides . . . I didn’t know.”

  The woman shrugged and went back to her ministrations. Having removed the salt and flecks of rust from the gash, she pulled a pot of salve from her bag and began smearing it over the raw flesh. Next, she wound a strip of clean linen around my lower leg.

  “Did the Ulstats do that to you?”

  She didn’t answer, not even a nod of her head. But she patted my shin as if to confirm what I’d suspected. No wonder she was terrified by my request.

  When the healer stood and met my eyes, I saw pity on her face.

  I probed the bandaged area with the tips of my fingers. “It feels better already. Thank you.”

  She nodded, hefting her bag and turning for the door. At the last moment, she glanced at me as if wishing to say something. But with a slight shake of her head, she slipped into the hall.

  Chapter Four

  ON A SMALL table, a pitcher of lukewarm water stood beside a chipped, earthenware basin. I splashed my face then removed my salt-stiffened clothing and dragged on a tunic and trousers from the pile Ashhi had left. They’d clearly been made for an Ulstat’s gaunt build, but at least the tunic covered my stomach. And I didn’t think the pants would split when I sat.

  I ran my hands through my hair. Now what? And what was Trader Ulstat’s motivation for pretending we were guests? Did he think this ridiculous charade would convince us to ally with him? The Ulstats were known for madness . . .

  My head spun with fatigue, but I did my best to ignore it. As desperately as I wanted to lie down and sleep, I couldn’t waste time. Seawater and blood still soaked my leather shoes, so I went barefoot as I slipped into the hall. The corridor was empty. Hushed, echoing with the sound of my breath. At one end, the hall intersected the building’s main corridor, while the other dead-ended at a blank stone wall. A niche in the blocks seemed intended to hold a small statue or vase, but there was nothing inside. The hall had just four doors, all closed. I glanced at the ceiling, looking for some way to climb up and out—an attic?—but the smooth stone slabs were unbroken. Shrugging, I hurried across the hallway and tapped on the closest door.

  When the door swung open, revealing Raav, I unclenched my tight-balled fists. Good fortune, for once. Seeing me, Raav’s expression changed from guarded to relieved. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to his chest. Under my cheek, his heartbeat thudded. I sagged against him.

  “Don’t say anything yet,” he whispered into my ear. Pulling me into the circle of one arm, he nudged the door shut with his other. In the silence that followed, I wanted to cry. But I wouldn’t; we’d been through worse with the Ulstats.

  Just a single window looked over the rear grounds of the House, a tangle of dead foliage and scattered outbuildings. In the center of the room, a bear hide made a grotesque rug. Red-painted stones had been shoved into the eye sockets.

  Raav entwined his fingers with mine. “Want some water? It’s about all I can offer.”

  “I was hoping they’d left a couple short swords in your room. We may have to fight our way out of here.”

  He smiled crookedly. “Not even a butter knife. I suppose we’ll have to make do with your wits.”

  All of a sudden, my knees buckled. “I can’t believe they’re gone, Raav. After everything we survived on Ioene. After everything the Vanished sacrificed to give Zyri’s Promise a sail.”

  Raav held me close, stroking my hair. He didn’t respond; he didn’t need to.

  “And I’m so sorry about your family, too,” I said.

  His face hardened. “I just wish I could’ve done more for my mother. After my father died, I should never have let Frask hurt her.”

  “But you were so young.”

  He shook his head. “There’s no excuse. I’ll never forget that I failed her. How else can I know I’m strong enough to protect you?”

  “It’s not the same, and you are strong enough. Besides, I’ve learned to fight. I don’t need you for protection.”

  He looked aside. “I know you don’t need anyone, Lilik. But I still have to feel like I’m capable.”

  Tyrak had always considered my safety his responsibility, too. My father had been the same when I was young. Would the men in my life ever give up this need to protect me?

  Raav traced the line of my jaw with the
back of his finger. “I know what you’re thinking. And yes, people who care for you will always want to keep you safe.”

  I rolled my eyes and walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. About ten paces from me, Raav stood with thumbs looped through the waist of his trousers. A sliver of exposed flesh showed the lines of muscle on his abdomen. I blushed and looked away. So handsome. Yet once again, my mind circled back to the coldness he’d showed me in front of the Trader Council. I needed to get past it.

  “Hey, Raav? You aren’t going to leave me just because you’re heir to your House are you?”

  Raav rushed over. A low hum exited his throat as he pulled me into his arms. My nose filled with his scent as he whispered, “I would never abandon you.”

  I couldn’t speak and only nodded while he pressed his chin to the top of my head. Raav laid a kiss into my hair. For the first time since being chained in the schooner’s hold, I felt warm. Raav cupped my cheek in his hand. I turned my face up toward his and his lips fell on mine, warm and soft, while his breath tickled my cheek. My heart sped.

  He pulled away.

  “I’m sorry, Lilik. We can’t,” he whispered. “Not here.”

  Suddenly cold, I pressed deeper into the shelter of his arms. “Why?”

  He brushed a thumb along my cheekbone and leaned his mouth so close to my ear that his breath tickled. “Before my father died, he spoke to Frask and me about trader business. He was extremely firm when it came to discussions of the Ulstats. If we were ever to negotiate with their House, we must know that nowhere within their home could we speak openly. We could never be sure of privacy.”

  I looked at him in shock and put my mouth to his ear. “You mean they’re spying on us?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. But I won’t give any Ulstat the power of seeing me vulnerable. And neither should you,” he whispered. Pulling away, he traced his finger from my forehead to the tip of my nose.