Duskwoven

by Carrie Summers

  I wanted to scream.

  Soon, a servant brought forth a tray with an ink pot and a pair of quills. As if reluctant, Ashhi grasped a quill and looked at Raav with questioning eyes. Pressing his lips together, he nodded and picked up the other.

  They signed together, each placing their name at the bottom of the scroll. The gathered commoners shifted in their seats, and only when Trader Ulstat signaled one of his guards to rattle his cudgel against the base of the stands did the crowd take up a desultory cheer. Rising on her toes once again, Ashhi pressed her lips to Raav’s. For a moment, he stood frozen. And then slowly, as if awakening from a daze, he placed his hands on her back.

  The kiss grew deeper as Ashhi pressed herself harder against him, and Raav’s hands slid over her skin, stroking her back. He was enjoying it.

  I couldn’t handle it anymore. Regardless of the attention I drew, I shoved aside the people crowding behind me. Running from the scene, I gagged and stumbled, shoulder thudding against the wall surrounding House Ulstat. I spat bile onto the ground before me and ran on.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  AS I STAGGERED through the streets, arms crossed over my belly, I spotted families taking comfort together inside their homes. The candles inside the ugly buildings blazed so bright. But outside, the darkness pressed in, a crushing force.

  Unfortunately, I’d taken a wrong turn while running from the grounds. I’d lost my bearings, and it seemed every turn just took me deeper into unfamiliar parts of the city.

  Toes catching in the ruts, head bowed and tucked deep inside the cowl, I just kept moving. If I stopped, my loneliness would catch up to me. If I paused, I’d never find my way back to the slums and Caffari’s safe house.

  As I marched, Tyrak slipped the bounds of the dagger. He walked beside me, a warm presence. If it’s any consolation, he said. You still have me.

  I reached my hand out into the night, and his ghostly fingers entwined with mine. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath, and Tyrak stepped in front of me. His phantom thumb brushed my cheek. In truth, I saw nothing but the filth-strewn alley of Ilaraok before me, but in my imagination, Tyrak blocked my view. He was whole. Alive. My heart warmed, but not enough. Nyralit was dead, my family gone. I’d abandoned Paono—for all I knew, he was dead too. And Raav was married to another. I was alone.

  You won’t find your way back by wandering aimlessly, Tyrak said, his voice warm and humming in my thoughts.

  He was right. With so little sleep recently, my thoughts were muddled. I sucked deep of the night air, trying to force myself awake. I’d told Caffari I’d only be gone an hour. By now, that time had already passed. I needed a better strategy.

  I still didn’t recognize any of the buildings. Hurrying to the nearest cross streets, I peered up and down, hoping to figure out where I was. Behind me, I heard the crunch of a foot on gravel. My breath caught. Without glancing back, I ducked around the corner. More footsteps followed, moving faster. The sound sent a bolt of energy through me. Rot. I should have been paying more attention.

  Speeding to a trot, I scanned for a hiding place. Along the crooked street, recessed doorways were dark mouths. Deep in their throats, splintery doors had heavy padlocks securing the latches. The glowing windows I’d passed earlier had been replaced by shuttered squares with no light leaking out. A placard hung outside the nearest building. The lettering was too faded to read. Deserted? Storage?

  Booted feet thudded around the corner behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see Ulstat guards. Why hadn’t I been more careful? Of course Trader Ulstat would be on the lookout for me at the ceremony. I’d known it, too. But I’d been too blinded by hope that I could somehow stop the marriage.

  In the street behind me, three large shadows blotted the faint light that fell across the intersection. I couldn’t see their faces, but neither did I spot the glint of weapons.

  “Seems she sees us, boys,” a gruff voice said with a laugh. “I’m thinking we ought to catch up. See what a young woman is doing in this part of town. Give her an escort.”

  I swallowed. Not guards, then. Just thugs.

  Tyrak hovered, ready to add his presence to mine. The cloak I wore was heavy and hard to move in. I kept walking but fiddled with the ties that fixed it to my shoulders with one hand while slipping Tyrak free of his sheath with the other.

  I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to get back to the slums, find Caffari, and continue with Geren’s rescue. Too bad I’d let my emotions get the best of me. But now I had to deal with it.

  When I unfastened the last tie, the cloak fell away. I burst into a run, feet pounding the earthen streets.

  “Oot!” one of the men yelled. “Seems she doesn’t want our help. What do you say we show her exactly what she’s missing?”

  Their feet fell faster. I sucked in a huge lungful of air as Tyrak lent his strength to mine and pushed the energy into my feet. The ground flew below me, and the sound of the men’s breathing and grunts fell behind.

  I neared the next intersection and bounded high in hopes I’d catch a glimpse of the harbor or the smokestacks of the refineries. But I saw nothing.

  I came down hard. Too hard. The pothole had been invisible in the darkness. My ankle twisted, and I felt a snap inside it. A shock traveled my leg, feeling like I’d taken a hammer to the nerve. Agony followed, radiating from my ankle. I squealed through clenched teeth, rolled, and gathered my legs beneath me. Springing upright, I took another step.

  My ankle couldn’t bear weight—I hit the street, head smacking the ground.

  Again I pushed up, started hopping. Behind me, I heard the satisfied growls of the men.

  I whipped my head around, caught a glimpse. The thug in the lead grinned, a gap-toothed leer.

  Another hop brought me into the intersection. Desperate, I searched left and right for an escape. A few paces away, a rickety staircase climbed the outside of one of the buildings. The steps were narrow enough that the men would have to come single file. At least they’d have to fight me one by one.

  We can make it, Tyrak said, filling my good leg with strength. Clenching the dagger tight in my fist, I nodded and sprang, one-legged, toward the bottom step. I heard the rattle of saliva as one of the men sucked a breath through his mouth. Another jump, and my free hand caught the stair railing. Using it as a crutch, I hoisted myself, hopping up step by step. The staircase shuddered as the first man stomped onto the bottom stair. When I was high enough to be out of reach from the ground, I whirled. Teeth bared, I held my dagger before me.

  Below me, the lead man laughed. Now that we were above the deepest shadows, I spied the coal dust wedged into the lines of his face. He hadn’t shaved—scruff covered his face and neck. I raised Tyrak to strike as he ascended another step. One of his companions followed, boot shaking the ramshackle staircase. Above me, I heard the groan of splintering wood and the squeal of nails pulling free. Beneath my free hand, the railing vibrated as the staircase tilted away from the building.

  Up! Tyrak shouted in my mind.

  I know. I got it.

  The lead thug was still out of range, but I slashed at his face anyway. Spinning, I hopped up four more steps, the warped planks shaking beneath my feet. Five steps remained before the relative safety of the rooftop.

  “Nothing better to do than beat up a girl?” I asked as I turned again.

  “We heard the miners in the northern camp plan to take over the city. Someone up there claims the fire speaks to them. Says it’s hungry for souls. Seeing as you’re out here all alone, doesn’t seem anyone would miss you,” he said with a snarl.

  The fire? All of a sudden, images from the last few hours flashed to life. The city’s lanterns had seemed to flare, burning brighter in the darkness. Torches produced fountains of sparks, far more than usual. But I hadn’t paid the changes much heed. Figured it was just because the darkness had felt so suffocating.

  Tyrak? Did you hear that?

  Not the time to be thinking abou
t it, he answered, nudging my sword arm into a jab.

  Down at the bottom of the stairs, the third man stepped onto the staircase. Wood groaned, and the whole construction leaned farther over the street.

  Go! Tyrak said.

  Spinning, I sprang for the roof, quick hopping up three stairs then diving onto the flat rooftop. I flopped forward like a seal, and gracelessly scrambled to get my legs clear of the stairs. Wood crackled and moaned, and the men started to yell.

  But the staircase held.

  I stared in horror as the first man’s head appeared above the edge of the roof. A rickety landing with a dilapidated railing connected the staircase to the building. I scuttled over the splintering timbers of the roof. Dropping onto my back, I clawed fingers into gaps between the timbers and kicked hard at the upright post of the railing.

  On the stairs, the man’s eyes went wide. The staircase tilted, listing farther and farther until it collapsed. Wood and bodies hit the street with a crash.

  What now? I felt time as a steady drumbeat, passing inexorably. Geren waited for the gallows. And if I didn’t get back soon, he’d hang.

  Lying on the rooftop, I peered over the lip. In the street below, one of the men lay in the wreckage of the staircase. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, and he didn’t move. It was too dark to tell if he was breathing. The other two had vanished.

  From my new vantage, I could finally tell where I was. Over the rooftops in front of me, I spied the harbor. Ships were deep shadows on the night-black water. In the middle of the protected bay, a pair of masts jutted from the sea. No doubt the ships had been underway when the sun vanished. Unable to navigate, they’d likely crashed and sank, locked together. I swallowed hard as I remembered seawater filling Zyri’s lungs.

  A handful of the ships burned lanterns upon their decks, the fire unnaturally bright and casting reflections like trails of flame across the water. I remembered the man’s words. What had he meant about the fire wanting souls? It sounded eerily similar to Mieshk’s actions on Ioene, feeding nightstrands to the volcano. Were there soul priestesses among the miners, untrained yet feeling the draw of the fire? Or was it just a coincidence, scared people acting out in terror of the unnatural night?

  This is my fault, Tyrak said. I was so concerned for you after the ceremony. Distracted . . .

  Your fault? I asked, feeling a surge of annoyance. Did he think everything I did was his responsibility?

  Yes, Lilik. You were hurting, and I should have stepped up to fill the gap in your vigilance. It’s what friends do.

  I sighed. Fair enough. So . . . what next?

  To start, I needed to find a way off the roof. Pushing up off my stomach, I surveyed my temporary island. In the middle of the roof, five stools surrounded a weather-beaten table. I crawled on hands and knees and dragged myself onto one of the stools. A few sets of dice had been abandoned on the tabletop, along with some empty mugs. A rooftop gambling den. I doubted there’d be another game here unless the sun rose again.

  Feeling under the table, my hand landed on a strange object. Peering beneath, I recognized it as a small one-handed crossbow. A leather strap held it to the bottom of the table, secured by a metal tab that pinched the strap’s end. Careful to avoid springing the trigger, I released the crossbow and pulled it free. A single bolt was loaded, the weapon cocked. No doubt whoever ran this particular table kept the bow around in case arguments got out of control. Traveling the underside of the tabletop, my fingers located another seven bolts wedged into gaps.

  Interesting find, Tyrak commented.

  I shrugged. Another weapon couldn’t hurt, but it wasn’t going to help me get down from here. If I didn’t return to the safe house, would Caffari go ahead with the plan? I should have asked her to contact Raav when her people entered the house. That omission seemed idiotic now because as far as the smugglers were concerned, Raav was an Ulstat. We’d discussed taking Ashhi and her father alive. But given a choice between failure and violence, I had no doubt the thieves would kill anyone who stood in their path. And Raav wouldn’t know they were friends.

  As for the plan to rescue Geren, it depended on me distracting the guards. This whole operation was ruined if I didn’t get back.

  From far away, I heard shouts, the crash of things breaking. Opposite the harbor, where the city’s outskirts climbed into the surrounding hills, a bonfire blazed. The mob’s doing, no doubt. The fire sprawled wide, an arm stretching toward a cluster of buildings. If the miners weren’t careful, they’d set the city alight. Or maybe that was their goal.

  Gingerly, I tested my ankle. Pain shot from my heel to my hip as I tried to apply weight. I winced and sat back down. I could handle the pain, but the bigger problem was the wobble in the joint. I pulled off my overtunic and used the point of a crossbow bolt to saw through the stitches fastening the sleeves to the torso. Once both sleeves were free, I dragged the modified garment back over my head then laid four of the bolts against my ankle, two inside and two outside. I wrapped the sleeves around my lower leg and foot, fastening them with tight knots.

  Splinted, my ankle held weight without buckling. It hurt, but I could handle it.

  I slid Tyrak into his sheath and hobbled for the edge of the roof. The uninjured thugs had probably fled once they realized how much work it would be to capture me. But as I limped around the perimeter of the roof, looking for another way down, I kept the crossbow trained on the street below. I didn’t want to be surprised again.

  Unfortunately, no other staircases or ladders accessed the rooftop. The closest building had an iron ladder bolted to the wall, but it stood ten paces away with a two-story drop separating it from my rooftop.

  I eyed the gap.

  You aren’t really thinking of jumping, are you?

  I examined the crossbow’s trigger mechanism and released tension from the string. I wouldn’t want to accidentally fire the bolt if I landed too hard. You have a better idea?

  If you hadn’t noticed, you’re injured.

  And if you haven’t noticed, Araok Island was swallowed by darkness, fires are burning hotter than they should, and there’s a little boy awaiting the gallows.

  Despite my words, I didn’t want to have to jump. I thinned my mental walls, feeling for the aether beyond. Still, the Ulstat nightstrands howled, whipping past my mind, and lashing my barriers with bestial ferocity. But the Silent Queen’s tranquility felt closer. I tried to open a tunnel to her as I did with Tyrak. Beyond the shrieking and the madness, I felt her sudden interest. I had the sense she was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear her. I focused harder, but as I approached true contact, claws began raking into my mind.

  That’s too far! Tyrak said, wrapping his spirit around mine. With a last burst of effort, I sent encouragement to Leesa then slammed my barriers home.

  Gritting my teeth, I paced away from the edge of the rooftop, lined up, and bunched my legs beneath me.

  Rot, Tyrak muttered. But he joined his strength with mine. The pain in my ankle faded. Inhaling deep of the smoke-clogged air, I sprinted for the edge of the roof. My good foot hit last, and I sprang, pedaling my feet in the air.

  The alley yawned beneath me. I flew toward the other rooftop. But not high enough. Not fast enough. I wasn’t going to make it.

  I screwed my eyes shut at the last instant. My hands slapped the roof before the hard corner took me in the ribs. The air left my lungs in a gust as my legs slapped the vertical wall of the building.

  An instant later, I was sliding, hands dragging along the rough wood timbers of the roof. The walls were stone, ending in a mortared section with a slight lip. Eyes wide, feet kicking over the drop, I grabbed at the last minute, fingers wrapping the rim of the roof.

  And stopped.

  I dangled, vision tunneling down. I couldn’t breathe. When I tried, daggers pierced my chest.

  Let me, Tyrak said.

  Let you what?

  Give me control. The pain doesn’t affect me as much.<
br />
  Yes. Go.

  I didn’t resist as Tyrak flooded my body and mind. He willed air into my lungs. I felt the agony of it, but I was helpless to stop him, a prisoner in my own body. With all our combined strength, he walked my hands along the edge of the roof. First one foot then the other caught an iron rung of the ladder. Moments later, I felt cool metal beneath my palms. My breath came easier. As long as Tyrak kept my inhalations shallow, I no longer feared I’d black out. Rung by rung, he took me down into the alley

  When my feet touched the earthen floor, Tyrak withdrew, ever so slowly, caressing my spirit as he went. Finally, I bore my own weight, drew my own breath.

  An old broom handle had been discarded outside a nearby door. Using it as a crutch, I gritted my teeth and started for Caffari’s safe house.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE MOMENT I tapped on the safe house door, it flew open and banged against the wall. A thief I recognized from the mine stared out at me, face red with anger.

  “If the boss runs into trouble, I’m putting the blame squarely on you,” she said, glaring.

  “Caffari. Where is she?”

  “Going ahead with the plan, no thanks to you.”

  “They’re moving on House Ulstat? Still?”

  I’d worried they might, but in truth, I’d figured the smugglers would abandon the plan without me working to distract the guards. As Caffari had said, she knew how to judge the odds and didn’t start fights she couldn’t win.

  The thief rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “What about the gallows crew?”

  “Seems you convinced her and Daonok that the little boy matters more than our whole band. Daonok’s coordinating the attack. Using someone who looks a bit like you to provide the distraction. ‘Course, she’s a good foot taller than you. I doubt anyone will fall for it.”