“Papa will know where we are when he gets home, he’ll come for us, too.”
But father didn’t come, nor Shadows. The sky was black, and so was the cave, seeing as Alu hadn’t let her rub the pearl since sunset. The fishers should’ve come home by now, to find what, their loved ones dead and haunting the shore? They weren’t warriors, their best chance against Shadows and the Wakened Dead lay in their boats, staying at sea, fleeing. Everyone might be dead, or rowing to Herald’s Watch. Papa could bring a ship and real warriors from there.
Alu stretched beside her. “We need food and water.”
“We ain’t eating Tengkur.”
“Did I say we’re gonna eat your goat?”
“You thought it.”
“Sleep. Tengkur and me, we’ll watch for Shadows, you can take the second watch.”
Kinesee drowsed but sleep came difficult. Visions of Odet’s head kept creeping beneath her eyelids to startle her awake. Sleep overtook her but the second watch never arrived.
Kinesee’s eyes fluttered open, her sister and goat snoozing beside her. Dawn’s light crept into the cave and she braved a peek through the entrance. A gurgling stream and bird song greeted her ears, and the remaining leaves on trees rustling in the breeze. The world appeared at peace.
She scooted back, pressing into her sister’s warmth as her stomach growled. She jostled Alu’s shoulder, but Tengkur awoke first, ears flapping her horns as she gave her head and body a good shake.
“It’s morning.”
Alu kept a straight face, but her sister was angry for falling asleep. She groaned and crawled to the entrance and after a few moments wormed her way to stand amid the tree’s roots. “I’ll be right back.”
Kinesee poked her head out and watched the older girl go to the stream and drink with cupped hands. Alu sat on her haunches, surveying the woods before she waved an invitation. Kinesee shoved Tengkur out first, then trotted to the creek, relieving her parched tongue with fresh water.
“What now?”
Alu glanced at the creek, crystal clear and fishless. “We gotta find food, we should head home.”
Home, everything Kinesee wanted, but it terrified her. “We could head down-coast, the Izlur family?”
Her sister gazed into her eyes, sadness and determination. “You might be right. If Papa and the fishers aren’t home, we’ll head south.”
They traveled as quiet and quick as possible when followed by a pesky black goat, approaching from the south near the strait to take advantage of the same hills they fled the day before. They slithered on their bellies to crest the dune.
Odet’s body still lay on the beach, but it was no longer alone. Corpses lay scattered around fishing boats dragged ashore. Kinesee leaped to her feet, but Alu’s arm wrapped her and pulled her to the gritty turf.
“Papa.”
“Quiet.”
Kinesee’s heart pounded the sand as she lay there, tears filling her eyes. Several boats were missing, so survivors may have fled. Chickens wandered the yard, but as far as she could tell, nothing else remained alive.
Alu grabbed her face, forced Kinesee to look her in the eye. “You stay here. Something comes for me, you run to the Izlurs, you hear me? And stick beside the water.”
Kinesee watched as Alu jogged straight to the boats in the surf. She avoided getting too close to the bodies, and leaned into a couple boats, grabbing canteens and haversacks, slinging them over her shoulder. She edged closer to a body and snatched a fishing spear and a couple knives.
She trotted halfway back, turned to face home. She waved Kinesee over to her.
“Seen anything ’cept chickens?”
Kinesee shook her head. “Papa?”
“No, he’s not on the beach.” Kinesee wanted to be relieved, but it left the greater question hanging. “I think… we’d be attacked by now, if those things were still here. Come on.”
Alu handed her two fishing knives and took the spear in both hands to lead them home. Shonu and Leeru, Regin and Lole, their bodies lay scattered and mutilated along the way. She pinned her eyes on Alu’s back, determined not to be a baby and cry. She’d lost love ones before, to sharks and the sea, and even bandits. The past hardened her, but didn’t prepare her for carnage.
They arrived and Alu poked the door open with the barbed steel point. Dark silence greeted them, and nothing moved. They stepped inside, closed the door. “Your pearl.”
Kinesee held the precious glow in her palm, revealing the room. The only body sat crumpled against the stone of the hearth, and Kinesee couldn’t hold back. She ran to Grandma Ielu, hugging her, sobbing.
Alu stood above them. “Come on, help me find supplies.”
Kinesee shook her head in defiance, but stood anyhow. “Why kill Grammu? Why?”
“Why kill anyone? Grab some rope, flint and steel, anything small that might be useful, and stay quiet. I’ll get some more clothes and blankets.”
They gathered two havers full of gear and food and slipped into greased sealskin boots in case forced to flee into chill waters. No sight nor sound of dead or Shadow, but Kinesee knew they pushed their luck
Alu said, “If we could shove a boat into the water, or wait for a tide… we should head for the Izlurs.”
“And what if they’re dead?”
Sis glared with a frustrated sigh. “Then we head for the Fost, or better, Herald’s Watch. Hug the water, a boat might find us, everybody can’t be dead.”
What would ring as an obvious truth two days ago sounded optimistic today. They carried food and fresh water, enough for days, but gnawing on nothing but salted meats and dried berries made everything a little more bleak. “Eggs. We should grab eggs.”
Alu smiled and tussled Kinesee’s already unkempt mess of blond hair. “Now you’re thinking. Let’s check the coop.”
Kinesee ran to a small ladder and climbed, opening a trapdoor. Hens clucked and gave her the evil eye as she scurried into the dust and straw-laden coop atop their home. “It’s all right, ladies.” She stood while Alu hunched to keep from knocking her head on the rafters. The nests held eggs a-plenty, and Kinesee grabbed a few before Alu clutched her mouth.
They stood silent and Kinesee followed her sister’s gaze. Something crossed the ground outside, passing a door into the coop made for chickens returning to roost. Alu stepped to the trap door, the only entrance sized for a human and eased it closed before crouching in the dust-hazed dark.
Whatever cast the shadow was too big to be a chicken. She clutched her pearl and snuck to the wall beside the chicken door and peeped through a crack. A hen squawked and flapped into the opening and she squeezed her bladder to keep from peeing her smallclothes. She took several breaths and looked back at Alu, whose wide eyes and panting breaths vindicated her start.
She turned her eye back to the crack. Nothing, until a red-and-black rooster hopped by. Could the shadow have been a stupid bird? Kinesee nudged toward the bigger opening for a better look but froze. A man sauntered into view, and her thoughts rushed to Solineus come to save them, but he wasn’t so tall, and gashes rent his wool cloak and the flesh beneath with deadly wounds. Black and dried blood, none fresh, and the flesh held the color of day old meat.
The breadth of his shoulders, his height, she recognized him as kin, but many of the men looked similar from behind. Uncles and cousins. She prayed the dead man a stranger, or at the least anyone but Papa. Carvings on the fishing spear in his hand suggested a darker truth, but anyone might have picked up one of Papa’s spears. Hope disappeared when the dead man turned, driving Kinesee’s eyes closed.
She scrambled to Alu, clutching her shoulder. “It’s Papa. He’s Wakened.”
Both girls shook with tears and stifled sobs. The pearl warmed Kinesee’s hand, and she focused her thoughts. Papa’s dead.
She didn’t expect an answer. The first time she’d rubbed the pearl, the morning Solineus departed, she’d heard his voice, and she’d tried to answer. She rubbed the pearl a hundred times
since, sending her thoughts, even trifling ones, without a response until yesterday. In her greatest need, he answered, and she needed his words more than ever. She prayed for an answer. Papa’s dead and walking.
So often the pearl brought comfort, feeling its warmth, seeing its light. She squeezed so hard the pearl might leave bruises, willing him to answer.
Hold tight, sweet girl. I’m coming.
“He’s coming.”
Alu whispered in her ear through choking sobs. “I believe you. I heard him, too.”
“He’s closer.”
Alu nodded and held her tight, and Kinesee wanted to collapse into a heap. She counted on a man she’d only known a couple days and she needed him to kill her papa. And if there were Shadows, too, she felt as though she summoned her savior to die.
44
SAFETY OF BARREN ROCK
Fly into cowardice, Craven Raven, fly and Fly, and Die,
preen glistening feathers black and green
until wings no more, and the fluff fills your beak
choking your words.
Walk into Eternity, Craven Raven, with a thousand-thousand eyes
no two agreeing on their Fate.
Here. Now. Never. Forever.
Clean your feathers of lice to make space for maggots.
Die. Peace.
But peace is not for the likes of you and me.
Envy the dead and able to die.
—Tomes of the Touched
The horns of the Watch sounded as the Entiyu Emoño approached Herald’s Watch. Ships at anchor crammed the island’s undersized harbor, ranging from traders to small fishing boats, but a narrow gap remained clear to receive important ships.
Captain Intϖo belted out orders in the rolling language of the Luxuns and his people leaped into action with practiced alacrity in preparation for docking, scooting between refugees and furling the three lateen sails. Even after a day onboard, Ivin found it difficult not to stare at their blue skin and vibrant feather-hair.
The Luxuns were known as the lords of the seas. Far as Ivin could tell, it was a reputation earned, as the Entiyu Emono brought them to the Watch with uncanny speed, then eased through the tight waterway to dock with an agility Ivin would’ve thought required oars.
He walked the gangplank to the docks hand-in-hand with Eliles and Roplin snared him in a bear hug less than ten steps from the Entiyu Emono. “Thank the gods! Damn good to see you. How’s the Fost?”
Ivin shook his head. “Under siege. Eredin stayed to fight.” He wasn’t of a mood to explain the scroll he carried. “Roplin, I’d like you to meet Eliles.”
Eliles curtsied with a shy smile. “The middle brother. Nice to meet you.”
Roplin appraised her with a smirk. “Leave it to my brother to fall for a priestess.” He took her hand and plied a kiss, winked at Ivin. “Yes, it’s that obvious. Father will want to see you immediately. He’s at the tower.”
“Aye, I need to speak with him, too.” He couldn’t bring himself to say why. “If a man called Solineus arrives, about my height… he’s from Emudar, and might have a couple young girls with him, be sure to send them to the tower.”
The press of bodies cleared as they made their way from the docks, but crowds swarmed the town as he’d never seen before. In the coming days it’d get worse. It would be hard to keep up with the supplies needed for so many mouths and bellies, even if incoming ships carried worthwhile cargoes to sustain the lives they hauled on deck.
Tokodin scrambled through the crowd and ran to them. “They almost didn’t let me on the docks. I had to convince them I knew you.” He panted. “I could really use a privy.”
Ivin chuckled and slapped the man on the back. The monk irritated him, but it was too good to be home to complain. “Can it wait until the tower?”
“I’ll make it that far without soiling my robes.”
The trio climbed the winding streets and entered the warrior-ringed Great Tower, finding escort to the dining hall where a back-thumping reunion took place. Ivin’s ribs hurt by the time Kotin, Rikis, and Pikarn finished greeting him, but the jubilation sombered when Ivin passed the scroll to his father.
The old man’s eyes perused the vellum, and he handed it to Rikis. “Eredin is certain?”
“His body is sound, but not his spirit. Not yet.”
Kotin flopped in his seat, the wooden legs squawking on the hardwood floor. He glanced to Pikarn and back to his youngest. “You men have seen this enemy, what hope have we?”
The Wolverine raised his hands and snorted. “A sword against Shadow, you might as well be fighting smoke. Fire, the same, unless it’s a priet’s Fire. End the end, they fared little better. How a man beats a devil, I ain’t got no idea once steel and fire fail.”
Ivin said, “Istinjoln is lost, and the Shadows keep coming, slower, but still they come. Prayers killed them, but didn’t save the monastery. Steel is a waste of sweat. We recovered the Sliver of Star: that’ll keep the Mother of Shadows from getting through the portal.”
“Pikarn told me of this Star, can we use it?”
“We thought to close the portal, worked our way into Istinjoln, but…” Eliles raised her head from hiding in her cowl. “What the Sliver is, what it’s capable of, it’s impossible to tell. Not without using it, and after? We need be sure of how to use it before we ever do, or it could be our end.”
“What prayers have you for this thing?”
“None, I’ve feral magic.”
Ivin was proud of how tall she stood with those words, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
His old man eyeballed her, then laughed. “I like you better already, welcome to the family, my girl. Never trusted magic, prayer or otherwise, but the times are different.” Kotin turned to Joslin, a scullery boy of ten whose parents served in the Tower. “Run to the kitchens and bring us food, thinking comes better on full stomachs. Everyone, sit.” The boy trotted down a hall, and Kotin kicked his feet onto the table, something the Lady Pineluple would never have tolerated. “Where’s Eredin now?”
“He’s at the Fost seeing folks onto boats, or at least he was when we left. He’ll raise sail to the Watch soon as he’s able. A Luxun ship with a Trelelunin woman will sail back to get more survivors.”
“Luxuns won’t do us much good outside of their sails, but Trelelunin, are there more of her people?”
“No, leastwise not I know of. Eredin took the Glass Sword; it’s able to kill Shadows.”
Kotin believed in Shadows and Taken, but a glass sword killing anything furrowed his brow.
“It’s not glass, it’s Latcu. God-forged.”
His father’s crooked lips spoke to what he thought of the notion. “So, we have one sword and a piece of star we don’t understand to fend off demons.”
Tokodin made his way to a keg of ale and poured with his back to the table. “They’re called Shadows of Man, because they only pray on humans. They won’t touch a living creature unless it’s human, and they fear water.” He carried a mug to Ivin and sat one at his seat, before returning to linger over the spigot, filling three more mugs.
Joslin’s cart of food banged and rattled, a bowl and serving spoon hitting the floor with a clatter, and all eyes turned to the wide-eyed boy. “Sorry! So sorry.” He scrambled to collect the offending silverware.
Ivin said, “We saw the fear of water ourselves in the Steaming Lakes, and Lelishen, the Trelelunin, told us of the root of their name.” Ivin didn’t have the patience to explain the Touched, so skipped him.
Tokodin carried mugs of ale to Kotin, Rikis, and the Wolverine. “Excuse me, where’s the nearest garderobe?”
Joslin said, “I can show you, sir.” The two departed through a side door and a scullery girl ladled bowls of stew as the conversation continued.
Kotin spooned soup and guzzled ale, wiping his lip of froth. “But these so-called Taken, steel kills them?”
The Wolverine said, “Aye, as it were, but the Shadows seep loose from the
bodies and rise. Take’s them a half candle or so before they’re free.” Pikarn spooned his stew and ignored his drink.
Kotin snorted and drained his mug. “These Taken fear water too?”
Ivin said, “Shadows and Taken alike fear water; we don’t know why.”
Kotin sat silent, finger tapping the rim of his mug before he poked, tipping it with a clunk. “Fear. Fear, Meris scares me.”
Ivin glanced at Kotin. The old man had passed from a snit into melancholy. He stared at nothing, his spoon in his mouth. Chewing his spoon. “Father?”
“That bitch killed your mother. And your little sister.”
The brothers shared glances, and Rikis asked, “Who?”
“Meris, that holy whore. I can see my sweet Pineluple now, blood down her thighs, her eyes rolling white, the oracle muttering prayers to kill her.”
“To save her, not kill her,” Ivin said.
“My limp daughter in my hands, baby Usate, we’d agreed to her name before she was born and buried. You boys never knew that, no one does. Too beautiful a baby to become a seed for a headstone, and that bitch killed her.” He stood with a start, stumbling as his heavy chair toppled across the floor. He lunged for his sword on the table and shook it from its scabbard. “I see you, Meris! I’m going to kill you, you god’s-whore!” Foam trickled from the corner of his mouth as he lumbered around the table, crashing through chairs.
Ivin dove from the man’s path, the sword swinging in an uneven arc over his head. Rikis and Pikarn rounded the table’s end as Ivin knocked the blade from the old man’s hand and wrapped his arms around him. Kotin was over thirty years his senior but still hard and powerful as a bull. Ivin’s knitted fingers strained and burned as the man roared in a fury, struggling to break free.
Ivin tangled their legs and heaved, throwing his father to the ground. They crashed to the maple floor and Ivin’s fingers unknotted, his father’s elbow writhing to connect with Ivin’s skull. He rolled across the floor from the old man, and as Kotin charged, Rikis laid a ham fist aside their father’s head, and like a boar struck dead Kotin plowed into the floor planks, writhing.
Eve of Snows: Sundering the Gods Book One Page 40