Children of a Broken Sky (Redemption Chronicle Book 1)

by Adam J Nicolai

  "I agree," Angbar threw in. He looked at Seth. "And Iggy's always been right about storms. Tell me one time he wasn't." When Seth didn't answer, he finished, "If you do go sleep in the snowstorm, though, I call keeps on your pillow."

  Seth curled his lip as Lyseira laid a hand on his arm.

  "Let it be," she said. "Akir didn't save us on the road only to have us betrayed by an old man and his wife."

  Helix's temper surged at the mention of Bishop Marcus's God. Suddenly he was sick of hearing about Akir's will; to hear the Church tell it, it was Akir's will that he die. "Syntal saved us on the road, Lys," he spat. "Akir has nothing to do with this."

  He expected an angry outburst or indignant sermon; instead, Lyseira just raised her eyebrows and glanced at his neck. He felt a hot flush of shame and dropped his eyes.

  That's it. I need some sleep.

  ~ ~

  In the darkness he saw Marcus pointing at him, Judge Elmoor sentencing him, Matthew saying, "I'm sorry," as blood bubbled from his lips. He saw the smeary white glow of the arc hound's eyes, the sword Syntal had brought for him and the tent she had set aflame.

  "You should get some sleep," Seth said, and Helix realized he was staring at the ceiling.

  "I can't," he said without turning.

  "You will," Seth said. "You were earlier."

  He was right. The fire in the hearth was low, and everyone else was asleep. It felt like I only blinked. He waited, watching the play of the hearth fire across the ceiling, but every time he closed his eyes the reeling images returned.

  He turned toward the window. A handful of snowflakes drifted in the darkness, but there were no torches, no clericlight, no arc hound eyes. Seth's reflection stood just outside the window, gazing in, but beyond it was only night. They haven't found us, he realized, and the thought helped to calm him.

  But they will.

  Seth cleared his throat, his eyes scanning the wood. He looked as if he could stay attentive for days.

  I owe him my life. All of them. It was a debt he could only pray he'd live long enough to repay.

  "Seth." His voice was clumsy and loud, breaking the ambience of the crackling fire and quiet snores.

  "Yes." Seth didn't turn from the window, but the fire created a ghost of him in the glass. The ghost's eyes shifted to Helix as Seth kept watch on the wood.

  "What are we going to do?" The question was packed with need.

  The answer was immediate. "I'm going to finish first watch, then wake up Iggy. You're going to get some rest."

  "I mean in the morning. The day after. The day after that. They won't stop looking for me. This won't end until they have me."

  The ghost's eyes dropped to consider this. "They'll have you more quickly if you're too tired to run."

  Seth, you've changed so much. The Seth Helix remembered would have charged their pursuers head on. But that had been years ago. The games they'd played as children were a long time gone.

  "I can't," Helix said. "Every time I close my eyes I see... everything, that's been happening. My mind, it... just won't rest."

  "You've been awake too long, you've got your second wind. Lie there, if you need to. Listen to the fire. You'll sleep eventually."

  "But I can't. I can't just lie here. I... I just keep thinking about—"

  "Helix," Seth said. The ghost turned toward the wood, keeping vigil as Seth locked eyes with his friend.

  "Yes."

  Flatly, Seth said, "Don't make me knock you out."

  Helix gave a weak chuckle. "M'sai," he muttered, and rolled toward the wall.

  Wait... I wonder if he was actually joking.

  He's inhuman. I don't even recognize him.

  He's trying to help. He saved my life.

  His mind picked at the question, and his thoughts finally began to shimmer with encroaching sleep.

  His eyes are blank. They burned the humanity out of him.

  When Lyseira asked him for help, he came.

  He made a spear from a tree branch. Like the trees outside. The trees with the wolves.

  He's a good person.

  Marcus will kill me.

  Seth is a Preserver. He's here to track me. He's reporting to Marcus every night.

  He's marked himself for life by helping me escape. He must still be the friend I knew or he wouldn't have thrown everything away.

  ~ ~

  "Helix." Something shook his shoulder.

  He opened his eyes and saw the dim shape of Iggy's face. The room was black, the hearth empty.

  "What?"

  "I think I saw something in the woods," Iggy said. "I'm gonna go out—"

  A ghoulish light seeped through one of the windows. Helix caught a glimpse of the arc hound's sickly eyes just before the window shattered.

  "Arc!" Iggy screamed. He leveled a kick at Angbar, then reached back for his bow. "Arc!"

  Seth snapped to his feet. His eyes flashed. Then he leapt at the thing's back, reaching for its jaws.

  The other window exploded as a second arc hound shoved through. It braced its front paws in the frame, howling.

  Below it, somehow still asleep, lay Syntal.

  "Syn!" Helix dove for his cousin. The wolf in the window lunged at him. It was all slaver and fangs, nauseous streaks of light. Iggy's arrow took it in the shoulder and it fell back, roaring.

  Syntal snapped taut, her eyes darting. "There's two of them!" Helix shouted.

  Lyseira was screaming, beating on the first monster with one of their guests' walking staves. The other one would be coming through the window again any second.

  "Get away!" Helix shouted. "It's—!"

  He caught a flicker of that horrible light before the beast crushed him, blasting the words away. He flailed and kicked and screamed; his hands grabbed something and smashed it into the wolf's head.

  The thing scrabbled, trying to get purchase. Its breath was hot ash. Helix bucked, trying to get his knees into the monster's gut. The monster snarled and ripped into his face.

  He was screaming. He had always been screaming.

  A flash of light hurled the wolf off him. It crashed into the rocking chairs, slapping its head against the brick hearth. Syntal was in front of the shattered window, illuminated only by the creatures' eyes, her hands raised as if she were about to choke someone.

  "Again!" Helix shouted, but she was frozen, her eyes glassy with terror. "Syn! Hit it—!"

  The wolf bounded once, tore into her arm, and jerked her off her feet. She pitched to the floor, screaming.

  Helix tried to grab his sword. It wasn't there. He must've taken it off.

  The thing lunged for Syntal's neck. Helix hit it with a rocking chair. The air exploded with chunks of splintered wood. "Me, you sehk!" He struck again with what was left. "Get me!"

  Another arrow flashed. The thing yelped and turned, its muzzle dripping blood. Syntal's throat was in one piece.

  My sword, his mind screamed, where is my curséd sword? He cast about and saw a fire poker, crawling with sick light. As he grabbed it, the wolf leapt for Iggy.

  The woodsman let a wild shaft loose. It buried itself in the ceiling as the monster smashed him into the wall.

  The front door burst in. A third arc hound growled, its empty eyes surveying them as if perusing a buffet.

  No, Helix thought. Akir help us. Then he was lunging to help Iggy. He drove the poker into the monster's back, and ripped it back out. The arc hound shrieked, snapping at Iggy's neck as the woodsman struggled to hold it back.

  Helix stabbed again. A thrashing spray of hot blood burst from the creature's flank. It fell, yanking the poker from Helix's hands. The light in its eyes died.

  A sudden burst of fatigue threatened to drop him. He staggered backward, abruptly woozy, and Lyseira screamed. She was kneeling near her brother. The first arc hound was dead, but Seth was sprawled next to it, facedown in a growing pool of blood.

  Beyond, the last wolf had pinned Angbar to the floor.

  Helix lurched th
at way, shouting. Another burst of light streaked past him, pelting into the monster. It jerked and looked up, but didn't go flying. It didn't matter. The spell had bought him enough time to get there.

  Weaponless again, he grabbed a vase of flowers and smashed it into the creature's face, spraying dirt against the wall.

  The beast lunged and caught his leg in its teeth. The world ignited with pain. The thing shook its head, trying to tear him from his feet. He grabbed a mounted shelf with both hands, desperate for purchase.

  It toppled, showering them with vases and books. An avalanche of knick knacks slammed him to his back. He scrabbled through the debris, frantic for something to stab with. The thing had lost his leg, but he only had a second before it lunged for his neck. Shrieking, he twisted to the side, and the beast tore into his shoulder.

  The room rocked with screams and instructions.

  "Shoot it, shoot it!"

  "Helix!"

  "The knife!"

  An arrow bit into the wolf's neck and it recoiled, ropes of flesh dancing in its jaws. Another of Syntal's spells lanced into it and it heaved against the wall, its eyes still alight. Then Seth appeared behind it and jerked its head back.

  "Helix," he grunted, his muscles bulging and his jaw locked.

  Helix's left hand was still floundering in the debris of the shelf, but his right had somehow managed to close on a dagger.

  "Kill it," Seth said, and Helix stabbed.

  The monster wheezed and jerked, spattering blood, but Seth had it locked. Its growl died and its eyes faded, smothering the room in darkness.

  Helix dragged himself out from under the body and knelt on the floor. The darkness shivered with murmurs and panting.

  "Is everyone well?" Lyseira's voice was just this side of hysteria.

  "My face," Helix said. In horror, he felt the words seeping out of his cheek. The side of his face was burning.

  A chorus of muttered complaints echoed him. Everyone was alive.

  "Where…" The pain in his cheek seared the word to ash, but his outrage resurrected it. "Where in Hel is my sword?"

  He heard the tinny clink of a lantern, followed by the soft whoosh of it igniting. A flickering light revealed Blane and Leese, their eyes wide with shock. The room plunged into silence.

  The cabin was a wreck. The two windows facing the front were shattered, and a light snowfall gusted in to the room. The stag's head lay upside down in front of the fireplace, spattered with blood and ash. Both of the rocking chairs were in pieces. The rug was torn and bloody, giant gouges had been ripped from the wooden floor, and the shelf on the opposite wall from the fireplace was broken in half, the floor beneath littered with debris.

  The hulks of the three arc hounds were the capstones to this masterpiece, spaced almost evenly across the room, each still oozing from its wounds. The one in the middle had a spear jutting from its belly like a grave marker.

  "How, ah..." Angbar winced. "How long have you two been standing there?"

  Blane glared. "Out," he said. "All of you."

  Chapter 12

  i. Iggy

  Lyseira called a stop just up the road to work her miracles. In the first light of dawn, Iggy watched her prayer mend the ruin of Helix's face. Ten minutes earlier he had seen Syntal hurl light from her hands, and now he could see her eyes despite the near-darkness.

  They were both witches under the law of the Seven Sacred Principles, but then again, so was he. Years of indoctrination murmured in his mind, trying to convince him he should be upset, but all he felt was relief that he wasn't alone.

  More concerning was the fact that they had all just nearly died.

  The fight was already becoming a blur in his memory, a vivid but vague impression of filthy light and gnashing fangs. He still wasn't sure they had actually survived it. Some of us might not have, he realized, looking at Lyseira, if it weren't for her.

  "No more sorcery," Seth said to Syntal. A minute ago he'd been bleeding from a giant gash in his side. Now it was forgotten.

  Syntal faced him, a challenge in her eyes. "What?"

  "You can't control it."

  Helix sighed. "Seth, not again."

  "It put one of the wolves to sleep—" Syntal started, but Seth broke in.

  "It put me to sleep!"

  "That was an accident."

  "So you admit you can't control it."

  "I'm still learning!"

  Iggy dug through his memory of the fight. It was like rummaging through shattered mirrors, but he did remember seeing Seth down. I thought he was dead.

  "No," Seth rejoined. "No more." His eyes darted to her pack, glinting threats. Syntal took a faltering step backward.

  "That's not your decision," Helix said.

  "Seth," Angbar said, "you realize Lyseira is as much a witch as Syntal. Neither one of them is a priestess."

  "The third Sacred Principle—" Syntal began, but again Seth cut her off.

  "Lyseira works miracles with the blessing of Akir. You got your power from a book." He spat the word as if he'd discovered a fly in his mouth. "It's exactly what they warn about. And not just any book, but a book that opened during the Storm. Do you even think about that?"

  Iggy's breath caught. No one had mentioned that before. It opened during the Storm? The murmurs in his head grew louder, until he remembered that the morning of the Storm was the first time he had heard the wind, too.

  "Seth." Lyseira laid a hand on her brother's arm. "She killed that first arc hound. If she hadn't, we would be gone. It has to be part of Akir's plan."

  He scoffed, but he looked torn. "If she can't control it—"

  "She said it was an accident," Iggy snapped. He hadn't realized he was going to speak until the words were out. "I had my bow, I had plenty of shots go wide. I easily could've shot you more than once. Would you be throwing a tantrum about that, too? I thought Preservers were supposed to be tough."

  "That's not the same thing," Seth said, but the fire in his voice was fading.

  "Of course it is. I shot arrows into their walls, into their ceiling... I didn't manage to hit anyone else, but that was dumb luck."

  "We were all frantic," Helix said. "I don't know about you, but I was scared to death."

  Angbar laughed. Helix looked at him.

  "Sorry," Angbar said. "I'm sorry, I just... Helix, I think you probably did more damage to their house than the arc hounds did."

  Helix glowered. "What?"

  "Oh, come on. You destroyed everything you touched. The shelves, the chairs... Hel, even the fire poker."

  "I couldn't find my sword!"

  "I half-expected you to burst through the wall and leave a Helix-shaped hole behind. Just to do a little extra damage."

  Syntal snickered. "They'll never take in wayward travelers again."

  "What in Hel, Angbar?" Helix protested, but there was a glimmer in his eyes. "See if I save your life again."

  "Oh," Angbar said with a taunting grin, "the feeling's mutual, my friend."

  Iggy felt himself smiling for the first time in days. It faded fast.

  "We need to move," he said. "The blizzard is still coming." He could hear it, barreling toward them from the north like a stampede.

  "I don't know," Helix said, eager to shift the teasing to someone else. "You may have missed a guess for once, Igg." Misting snow swirled about them like a flock of fairies. "This doesn't look—"

  "This isn't it," Iggy promised. "This is nothing." He'd caught the scent of the storm just after leaving home. He hadn't been sure, originally, whether to try to find the others or just set out on his own. He'd been leaning toward the latter, but this blizzard was the kind that came on suddenly—the kind that killed—and his friends had had no idea.

  "How long do we have?" Lyseira asked. She was peering into the tree cover, as if she could read the answer in the clouds.

  "Not long. I don't know. If I were guessing, I'd say it'll hit today."

  "Make for Coram?" Angbar asked. "Do you think we'll
have time?"

  "I don't know." Between the wind's whispers, the distant storm's howl could've been a tornado. "We'd better."

  ii. Angbar

  They broke fast a few hours after dawn. It was cheese and hardbread, once again, but even that was running low. Angbar's stomach grumbled as everyone got back to their feet, following Iggy along the old roads.

  The silence left him alone with his thoughts. Normally he wouldn't have minded, but in the past he'd always amused himself by making up stories. Right now every story he made ended with murder and brought him back to the wintry road, wondering if his parents were safe.

  His brain tried to abstract this question, turning it into the musing of a fictional character. It spun a tale about a young Bahiri separated from his parents, wondering if they were still alive, wondering if he had done the right thing in leaving. Then he'd realize what he was doing and stamp it out.

  This wasn't a work of fiction. This was his life.

  For the hundredth time, he tried to clear his thoughts. He stole a glance behind him and saw Syntal trudging along through the leaves and drifting snowfall.

  They'd been closer, once. A couple years ago they'd even gone to the Harvest Festival dance together. Not as a couple—he wasn't really interested in Syntal that way—but as two outcasts, just to prove they could.

  He dropped back.

  "Well," he said, "I thought the lightning bolts were impressive, no matter what Seth says."

  Syntal started. A rope of dirty hair fell over her face. She absently brushed it back, smiling.

  "It wasn't lightning," she said, glancing ahead at Seth. He was oblivious. "But thank you."

  Angbar caught the glance. "He was pretty mad, hm?"

  Syntal shrugged. "Everyone lived."

  He nodded. "We've been lucky that way so far." They crunched through the brittle leaves. "So... you really learned it from that book we found in the lake?"

  She glanced at him. There was some suspicion in her eyes, but she must have sensed his honesty. "Yeah. I really did." She stifled a yawn. "Do you want to see it? I can show you, tonight maybe."