The old man smiled. “Blood demands blood and pain demands pain, Lord Thuris. This we know.” He stepped forward, as did five other Dream Weavers. “The six of us give ourselves freely to the fire to seal the pacts.”
Ritsuko made a small sound at the words give ourselves freely, but it wasn’t loud enough to distract from the proceedings. Mikani clenched his teeth as Hu squeezed his shoulder, hard.
“Warmth. Bond. Respect. Restitution. Very well, human, you have earned a reprieve. Ware that you don’t break your word.”
The eldest shaman bowed once more. Then he turned to Ritsuko and Kaeheld; without warning, he grabbed their hands and flicked a sharp, long fingernail to their wrists. He held them still as their blood soaked his hands before releasing them. The Dream Weavers renewed their chant; the harmonies seemed to swell—the elemental Lord had joined the wordless song, the deep reverberations of its voice shaking rocks and dust loose all around them. The six sorcerers came together and joined hands. Saskia and the others pulled Ritsuko and Kaeheld aside as the rest of the craggers dropped to their knees.
The sounds of explosions and battle from the town below stopped, replaced by a low, dull roar. Mikani turned toward Eldheim. The freed salamanders rushed the mountain, glimmering streaks of gold and red clambering over buildings and along the rocky slopes. A choked gasp made him turn back to the chasm. The six sorcerer sacrifices took the final step together, opening their arms and falling forward into the fiery depths. The salamander roared once more; even Hu stumbled back as the rush of hot air and sound knocked them all off balance. He had to drop to his knees to keep from being rolled off the edge. Mikani grabbed onto Ritsuko when she slid by, dropping to the ground next to her as the elemental’s movements threatened to split the mountain wide open. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like hours before the noise withered to a loud ringing in Mikani’s ears.
He wrapped an arm around his partner instinctively, as the world went a little mad. The surviving craggers took over the chant, but it gained new notes, mourning if he guessed correctly. This was a song for the dead, honoring their sacrifice. All around, he glimpsed sad eyes and dirty faces, resigned to the necessity of appeasing forces beyond human ken.
“My kith and kin will guard Mount Surtir. Great one, we are yours.”
“It is done,” Lord Thuris boomed. “All terms accepted. Now begone!”
The peak shook again, and the flames flared sharply in warning. He didn’t intend to stick around for lava to come rolling over them if they didn’t move fast enough. Mikani didn’t let go of Ritsuko until they reached the base of the mountain. Hu was helping Saskia, while Evans had the shell-shocked look of a man grappling with too many surprises at once.
I know the feeling.
They were still some distance from town when Ritsuko stumbled. He started to make a joke, until he realized she was actually passing out. Worried, he swung her into his arms. Hu needs a look at her, but where? Eldheim was in complete disarray, no hospitals that he’d seen. It’ll have to be the cleanest place I can find.
Hu quickened his step, obviously worried. “Do you want me to take her?”
Like hell.
For reasons he wouldn’t examine too closely, he shook his head. “I’ve got her. But I’m open to ideas as to where you can set up a temporary practice.”
“Try the west side of town,” Evans said. “It’s mostly old stonework over that way. So even if the salamanders rioted, the buildings should be more or less intact.”
“That’s where we’re headed, then.”
Before they got to town, Kaeheld broke off with his surviving guards. “I suspect you don’t fully grasp the import of what happened here, but know that we will keep our part of the bargain. If you fail us again, the consequences will be devastating.”
Mikani started to ask for clarification, but Saskia stayed him. “I’ll fill you in once we take care of the wounded.”
The party was grim and silent as they trudged back into Eldheim. There would be fallout from this night’s work, no question, but he didn’t care how enraged the great Houses would be. So what if they lost a little revenue? The matter of certain technologies becoming scarce would be a problem, too, but it wasn’t his worry.
Eventually, Evans found them an innkeeper willing to open his doors, especially once he heard the role they’d played in forging two damn-near-impossible alliances. As predicted, the structure was built entirely of dank stone, with rooms so small they seemed like cells, but with no fires burning, it was the best thing Mikani had seen in weeks.
He couldn’t look away when Hu cut through Ritsuko’s boots. It was worse when Mikani saw that her trousers had melted into her skin. That required soaking, and her calves were raw when the last of the fabric fell away. Red skin showed through blistered patches of white, and he could only think of how long she’d walked around like that. Not that there had been any time or safe place for treatment, but it didn’t change the deep pride he felt when he considered her quiet gallantry. Mercifully, Ritsuko was unconscious until Hu finished cleaning, treating, and wrapping her burns. Then he bundled her in a blanket and carried her up to a room the proprietor had prepared.
A few moments later, he came back to the common room, where Mikani was sprawled in a chair across from Saskia. She called for food and drink, and they ate with the appetites of starving beggars, though nobody had much to say. It seemed incredible that the cragger sorcerers had chosen to give their lives to save everyone. There should be a reward given to their families . . . or a memorial built. Or both. Hells and Winter if I know what’s enough for that.
“Saskia.” She looked up from her glass, eyes wide and bruised from exhaustion. “Just what did we do, up there? What are the Rites of Summer, the Bonds of Blood?” He leaned forward, ignoring the pain echoing from every joint and muscle and coaxed his talent to life. “What did that old man need with Ritsuko’s blood?”
She’s tired, but aren’t we all. There’s also regret . . .
“The Rites of Summer are an ancient tradition, Janus,” she murmured, without looking up. “I have never known anyone that’s ever performed them. It’s a ceremony to share life force with the spirits.” She shook her head. “Kaeheld needed to seal the new treaty with the fire elementals.” Saskia finally met his gaze. “Inspector Ritsuko, as representative of the Council, stood in as the signatory for the Summer Isle. Kaeheld spoke for Winter. They signed a new pact in blood, basically, binding all of Hy Breasil to abide by the new treaty.”
Hells and Winter. We just signed away all mining rights in Mount Surtir and cut off the supply of fire elementals to the islands. Mikani let out a long breath and leaned back. “Hells. There goes our pension.”
We’ll have a price on our heads when Skarsgard learns of this. Hells, all the Houses will get in a bidding war for the right to execute us.
They were all quiet after that.
Finally, Evans muttered, “This has been the damnedest night. Hope Kurtz is all right.”
Mikani hoped so, too, but there must’ve been casualties. He didn’t envy the survivors the task of rebuilding. “I wonder if he found his family.”
Evans wore a grave look. “His wife’s smart. I’m sure she took the children and hid.”
Sometimes that’s not enough.
After Miskani ate the stale bread, cold meat, and a wedge of cheese, washed down with a mug of watered ale, he shoved away from the table. There was just no way he could sit still. Hu and Saskia glanced up at him with knowing eyes. He felt as if there was something he should say to her, an apology almost, but the words didn’t come. Mikani managed a half smile.
“She’s resting,” the doctor said. “But you should check on her.”
Mikani went up the stairs and knocked on Ritsuko’s door. Only a few seconds elapsed before she said, “What is it?”
At least she wasn’t asleep.
He slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. The cloying scent of Hu’
s ointments filled the room. Ritsuko was propped up in bed on a number of pillows, with the blanket pulled over her injured legs. Her expression gave nothing away, so he couldn’t tell if she was glad to see him.
I could find out. But I don’t want to.
“I’m sorry you were hurt . . . again.” Hesitant and unsure, Mikani shuffled closer while keeping his gift tightly reined in.
“It goes with the territory,” she said quietly.
“What, knowing me?”
“Don’t be absurd. Come, sit down.”
With a frown, he perched at the foot of her bed, clasped his hands, and studied his scarred fingers. Ritsuko reached over and put her hand atop his. That startled him into meeting her gaze, but to his surprise, she didn’t seem angry, just . . . weary.
I can understand that.
“You should be yelling at me. Being berated usually makes me feel better.”
As ever, she addressed the distance between them directly. “I won’t lie, being left behind hurt. But . . . what could you have done—middle of the night, drowning storm, elementals prowling? You’d have gotten yourself killed. This way, we both made it. It couldn’t have been an easy decision.”
“It should have been me down there with you, not Hu.”
Her mouth curved in a smile he’d almost call playful. “You wish you could’ve huddled with me all night on a stony ledge?”
“I’d have found a way to save you, Celeste, if I had to carry you in my arms down the bloody mountain.” Mikani stood, paced the three feet to the wall and back to loom over her.
“There was no way down but a long fall. I don’t blame you.” She reached up to set a hand lightly on his arm. “I don’t hold it against you. So it’s time to let it go.”
Mikani slid in beside her and pulled her to his chest, murmuring into her hair. “Not letting you go ever again.”
A shivering breath escaped her, but she didn’t resist. Her arms stole around his back, and she put her cheek against him as if listening to his heartbeat. “I knew you were coming, by the way. I never doubted it.”
He brushed his lips against the top of her head. “Thanks for trusting me.”
Even if I’m not always sure I deserve it.
CHAPTER 25
THE NEXT MORNING, SASKIA HANDLED PREPARATIONS FOR the journey. She expected more opposition, as they’d done a lot of damage in Eldheim, but the House Skarsgard and Magnus overseers were missing or still in hiding. So she had little trouble gathering supplies from grateful miners and soldiers. Finding transportation required more effort.
“How can you not have any horses?” she demanded in frustration. “This is a stable.”
“See that hole in the wall? The big stallion kicked his way out when the salamanders started burning things. The rest followed him.” By his expression, the livery owner was in no mood to hear about her problems when he’d lost his livelihood.
“Is there anywhere else I can try?”
The man gave her several other addresses, so Saskia trudged to each, one by one. She was still drained from using her familiars so much in such a short time; this was something Loison would normally handle for her, but he was back at the Gull, keeping order along with Mr. Ferro and the boatswain. At each stop, she heard the same thing—the horses were either gone or the owner needed them too badly to rent them out for a long-distance journey.
Sighing in discouragement, she headed back toward the inn. Looks as if we’ll be walking. And with the mountain path through Skalbrekka gone, it’ll be a long, slow journey down the main trade road. The air was still heavy with the scent of gunpowder and charred wood, underlaid with a sweeter, herbal scent from the rushes people were burning to drive out any lingering evil spirits. Such superstitions had no effect on elementals, but it didn’t stop the townsfolk from trying. They need to feel in control somehow.
The repercussions from this trip would be felt for years to come. Saskia didn’t know yet how it would impact her business. It might increase demand, but people who lost money on the exchange might cut back all expenditures, curtailing growth. No point in obsessing over it now.
The others were out front, regarding her expectantly, when she returned. She didn’t know what to tell them. But before she had to break the bad news, Kurtz showed up with a couple of horses and a small cart.
She pushed out a small sigh of relief. “I thought there wasn’t an animal to be bought or rented in the whole town.”
The miner seemed uncomfortable. “They belong to my brother. It’s the least I can do . . . you saved us. And my family. I . . . I’m sorry.”
She imagined he meant he regretted taking off, leaving them to deal with the dilemma without his aid. Honestly, Saskia didn’t blame him. If I could’ve fobbed the situation off, I might have run, too. But sometimes there’s no one waiting to take over.
“You did what you had to, man.” Irahi smiled at the miner and took the reins. “No one could have asked for more. Go in peace.” Kurtz murmured his thanks and rushed off.
Evans stopped by as Saskia supervised the packing. Inspector Ritsuko went into the back of the cart; the other womean was quiet, not that she was ever a chatterbox. But what they’d witnessed the day before was big enough to feel life-changing. She was still grappling with the implications herself.
Putting those thoughts aside, Saskia clambered onto the horse not hitched to the wagon, watching as Janus bade Evans farewell. “Thank you. If there’s anything we can do—”
“Just get out of here. You’ve started something big and ugly with the Houses, mate.”
Saskia suspected that was an understatement. Janus and his partner would bear the burden of responsibility for most of the damage even though the problems had already begun before their arrival. The Houses would only see the massive loss of income from sealing off the fire-elemental mining operations—and the fact that agreements with serious consequences had been made without their stamp of approval. She prayed the Council was wise enough to keep to the terms. Otherwise, the consequences would be devastating.
Janus sighed. “True enough.”
“Keep your head down and your wits about you when that storm breaks,” Evans said.
She nudged her horse closer and smiled at the miner. “It’s not the first time we’ve riled up the Houses, Mr. Evans.” Though I do suspect this is the biggest incident. “Bronze gods keep you, and may Eldheim come back stronger than before.”
“From your lips to the gods’ ears. Godspeed.” Evans waved as Saskia set off along the road, Janus and Irahi following with a snap of reins and a creak of wooden wheels.
She rode through the ruined streets, trying not to let the sorrow she saw in so many faces etch onto her heart. The sound of hammers on stone and people chopping wood filled the air, mingling with voices calling out instructions and greetings. More than a few Skarsgard and Magnus men had joined the reconstruction efforts, even if the overseers were absent. She noticed that they stayed clear of the shattered remains of the administration building.
Let the ruins stand as a reminder of what we’re giving up to survive. Evans is right: we might have saved lives, but the Houses will want blood for the loss of the mines.
Fear percolated through her. The Houses had the power to tear down everything her family had built. With enough money came indisputable power. They could rush punitive measures through or impose taxes so severe that her company would collapse beneath their weight. With some effort, she stilled her racing thoughts, and whispered to her ever-present familiars, who sensed her unease and responded in kind by whipping the wind around her.
“I’m fine,” she murmured in reassurance.
Her air spirits didn’t seem to share the outrage with those taken from the mines. Does that mean our line honored the old ways, performed some ritual asking permission and formally creating a permanent bond? Before now, it was a question she’d never thought to ask. The elementals served her family, much as this horse carried her farther from Eldheim. Just how smart
are my sylphs anyway? The matter merited investigation.
A few minutes later, they passed the craggers’ dwindling encampment. Most had already struck their tents and cooking fires and were making their way farther up the mountain. By the terms of their new agreement with the Salamander Lord, Kaeheld’s host would remain on the slopes of Mount Surtir as guardians of the elemental’s volcano—stewards to the Dragon kin’s lair. Kaeheld stood alone on a small rise by the side of the road. She raised a hand in farewell, but he remained motionless, watching them as they rode out of sight.
The first stage of the journey passed in near silence, apart from Janus asking his partner ten times if she needed anything. It was hard to credit how different things had been the day before, guns booming and houses afire. Four hours into the ride, they paused for a meal.
“You’re unhappy, Li’l White.” Irahi ambled up as she reined her mount, his head coming up to her shoulder even on horseback. He set his hand on her arm, and she laid her free hand over his and traced the scar that ran from his thumb to wrist.
“You stopped a blade meant for me. That damned Aevar mercenary looked surprised when you punched him while his sword was still dangling from your hand.” She wrapped her fingers around his thumb and index and squeezed gently.
She slid down, tethering the horse beside the other one at the wagon.
“I remember. And you’re evading a real answer as well as you did that sword.” She felt her cheeks heat. He chuckled, glancing over at the wagon paused five yards behind them. She followed his gaze. Janus wore several days of stubble, giving him a piratical look, and his hair didn’t look as if he’d combed it in even longer. Like everyone, his attire was the worse for the wear, though even on the best of days, Janus tended to be rumpled.
He looks like death warmed over. I heard him pacing all night, but he wouldn’t leave her side. It reminds me of us, so long ago . . . but it’s different, too. I never saw him so at ease. There was something that made him dig in, even when Inspector Ritsuko was trying to shoo him away.
Silver Mirrors Page 23