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Darkborn (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 4)

Page 14

by Carrie Summers


  “Shoulder shot,” he breathed. “Only fatal if you’re wrong about the poison.”

  “I’m not wrong,” I returned. At least, I hoped I wasn’t. Half a dozen accounts from the Nocturnai logs had referenced the paralyzing effects of the roots. The sentry would be unable to move for a few hours. But he’d breathe, and his heart would continue beating.

  The cook held up three fingers. Three more hidden sentries. With a nod, we crept along the slope, following her gestures. One by one, Daonok disabled the lookouts—each of them well camouflaged. We’d gotten lucky to receive the warning.

  Now, if only the remainder of our attack would go so well.

  We returned to the waiting group and reported our success. Moments later, Daonok and the captive headed for a point halfway between the lava flow and the fortress. Using a signal lantern, he would communicate with the Midnight. As planned, the remaining thieves and sailors dipped arrows and blades into the root pulp then divided into small clusters and set off toward the low sentry towers outside the main fortress.

  I stayed back this time; my part in this phase of the attack would come later. But Raav went with the last group. As he crept away, I swallowed back the lump in my throat. It wasn’t like his mission was safe, either.

  Just before he passed out of earshot, he turned. “If it’s not obvious, Lilik,” he whispered. “I love you too.”

  My lip trembled. I bit it to keep from running after him.

  Only Paono and I remained at the staging area. I turned to him, nervous about his reaction to Raav’s words. His eyes were distant, but he’d seemed distracted since I’d found him at the temple. I couldn’t tell whether Raav’s declaration had shocked him or not. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t find my words.

  After a few minutes, he gestured with his chin toward the Midnight. “Trader Ulstat’s getting in the dinghy.”

  Right. That explained at least part of Paono’s distance. He’d been focusing on the aether and the sparks he could sense through it. Did that mean he hadn’t heard Raav’s comment? And anyway, why was I worrying about it? Was I afraid that I’d lose my friend if he realized how much I’d changed—how far I’d moved on? Was there a tiny part of me that still wondered what might have become of us if none of this had happened?

  In any case, now was not the time to examine my feelings. It was time to move.

  “You remember what to do if there are problems, right?” I asked.

  Paono nodded. If he sensed aggression in the sparks, especially Mieshk’s, he would try to form a spirit link with someone in each of the advancing groups. We would attempt to retreat. That extra layer of security gave me confidence as I set off in a crouch, each footfall carefully placed as I descended toward Mieshk’s stronghold.

  I needed to be close enough to hear what happened between Mieshk and her father, but I couldn’t move in until the sentries were eliminated. When I was near enough to the fortress to hear sounds from within, the pounding of stone against steel—a blacksmith working on Mieshk’s armaments?—I dropped to my belly. Two sentry towers stood between me and the outer walls. Squinting, I could barely make out the inky shadows as our groups approached the towers.

  My heart jumped into my throat as one of the pools of blackness suddenly vaulted up to the sentry’s perch. An instant later, a second attacker scrambled onto the other tower. A man shouted, quickly muffled. I screwed my eyes shut. So much for shooting them with poisoned bolts. Maybe they’d decided it was too likely the sentries would attract attention while falling from their perches.

  I scanned the fortress. The shout had been so loud to my ears. But the guards atop the corners of the walls didn’t seem to have noticed—yet. Atop the close towers, our fighters struggled with the sentries. I couldn’t breathe. With a crash, the combatants atop the pillar nearest to me fell. I cringed at the sudden crash then felt a strange calm flood the area, originating from up the hill. Sounds grew muffled and movements around the towers slowed.

  Paono? I asked across the faint link I felt with him. Is that you?

  I think so, he responded. I felt the guards on the wall perk up. Tried to calm them.

  Well, it worked. On everyone.

  Moments later, the sensation of tranquility eased. Within seconds, a shape was hoisted onto the perch. Roughly person-shaped, it looked more convincing than I’d expected clothes stuffed with fallen branches would. This had been Caffari’s idea; like a farmer’s scarecrow, the figure would pass a casual inspection, especially in the darkness.

  Atop the other sentry post, the struggle continued. Finally, one of the two fighters raised an arm and clubbed the other combatant on the temple. The loser crumpled. My heart thudded—I couldn’t tell who’d won. But my rising fear waned when the winner eased the unconscious form down. Soon, the thieves hoisted another scarecrow onto the tower.

  I nodded in relief. So far, everything had gone to plan. More or less, anyway. My mouth was dry as the shadows melted back up the hill, no doubt struggling with the weight of their new captives.

  Crawling on my belly where I could and slipping in a crouch between boulders where the terrain was too rough, I approached the wall. Lulled by the presence of her sentries, Mieshk hadn’t bothered to clear the foliage around the base of her fortifications. I was able to slip into the shadow of the outer wall, close enough that the sentries in the corner guard posts would have a hard time seeing me. Plus, I assumed their eyes were on the Midnight. No alarm had been raised when the ship had sailed into view; I hoped that meant Mieshk was blind to treachery from anyone or anything bearing her House insignia.

  The wall was slick beneath my hand, like glass warmed from within. When I touched it, unease squirmed in my belly. This whole place was unnatural. Remaining low to the ground, I approached the edge of the fortifications nearest the beach. Far down the shore, between the encampment and the lava flow, Trader Ulstat’s rowboat was just scraping the shallows. As we’d planned, he was alone. He jumped out, pulled his small boat onto the shore, and started down the beach toward the fortress.

  Once within earshot, he called out, “Mieshk, my daughter and heir. You’ve taken the island for our House! It’s more than I could’ve hoped.”

  Moments later, the guards at the fortress’s entrance came to attention. Spearguns were raised to the sky in a sort of salute as Mieshk stepped to the threshold. After watching her father’s approach for a moment, she moved a pace beyond the gate of her stronghold.

  I’d seen what the fire had done to Avilet. I’d heard descriptions of Mieshk from the prisoners we’d taken. And I’d seen her distantly through Paono’s memory. But I still wasn’t prepared for what had happened to her.

  Avilet’s hair had been patchy, her eyes had glowed, and her skin had resembled a cooling lake of lava. But Mieshk burned. Fire licked her body from her toes to the top of her hairless skull. Her clothing was reduced to tattered scraps beneath the dancing flames. In some places, her flesh boiled and oozed. If not for the sharp slashes of cheekbones beneath the hollows of her eyes, I might not have recognized her. And her eyes… black stones looked out from the pits of her eye sockets, fiery pinpricks where her pupils had been.

  Trader Ulstat stopped in his tracks. Revulsion showed on his face. My heart sank. If he couldn’t swallow his disgust, she’d know his deceit. The plan would fail.

  Somehow, the Ulstat prime managed to gather himself. Though his eyes slid away every time he tried to look directly at her, he drew himself up and strode toward her with confidence.

  I’d been biting my lip. Slowly, I relaxed my jaw.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  He showed his palms. “To help strengthen your position, of course.”

  “A single, pathetic man is no help to me,” Mieshk said. No matter the changes to her body, her voice held the same sneer I remembered.

  “I’ve brought fighters. You’ll need them. Istanik has sent a force.”

  Mieshk’s eyes narrowed. “The Istanikers are taken care
of.”

  Trader Ulstat, to his credit, was a good actor. “You know they’re here?”

  “I know everything, Father. I know you’re a coward and a weakling and unworthy of the Ulstat name. Mother was the true prime. You’re just a figurehead. For now.”

  “Mieshk, darling. I have no doubt of your strength. In fact, I plan to abdicate my prime status, sign the House over to you. But I’m worried you underestimate the other Kiriilti.”

  The fires around Mieshk leaped higher. “On your knees, Father. If you insult me again, I’ll force you to put a blade through your own heart.”

  Instantly, Trader Ulstat dropped to the sand. Kneeling before his daughter, his face trembled. “How did you…?”

  “It’s just one of my powers, Da,” she said with a smirk.

  “I…”

  “Now stand.”

  Stiffly, Trader Ulstat rose to his feet. I tensed, getting ready to run. If the situation were different, I’d have enjoyed watching him lose control. But not now.

  But Mieshk hadn’t commanded his tongue, only his body. My shoulders sagged in relief when he swallowed and began to speak.

  “You’re more powerful than I thought,” he said.

  “Obviously.”

  “And it’s a perfect solution to my problem. My fighters fear the island. I’m struggling to control them. With this… talent, you can help me get them off the ship.”

  I tugged on a hunk of my hair. He was still following the plan, attempting to lure her away from the fortress by asking her to speak with his soldiers. But the delivery had been awkward.

  Mieshk ran a black tongue over her lips. “How many? I have need for more fighters—or at least their souls. There’s something I’m trying to finish, yet my resources are stretched thin.”

  Swallowing, Trader Ulstat gestured toward the beach.

  “Shall we walk? You can fill me in on the way.”

  Mieshk turned to look down the shore. As her eyes passed over my hiding spot, I cowered against the wall.

  “I sent Avilet to deal with that gutterborn nightcaller and her friends,” she said. “Unfortunately, she failed. Now, I have others searching. I’m sure I’ll locate her soon.”

  Trader Ulstat moved off a pace as if to suggest she follow. “I can help,” he said. “Tell me where to send my fighters.”

  Mieshk seem to consider this. I held my breath. Trader Ulstat improvised well—I’d give him that much.

  His daughter nodded at someone inside the fortifications. “You two, with me.”

  My breath left my lungs in frustration as two men stepped up beside her. Judging by the strength in their arms, they’d been oarsmen aboard the Evaeni. And unlike many of her followers, they’d remained well fed. Bodyguards. Rot. Trader Ulstat was supposed to get her to come alone. But if he tried too hard right now, he’d just tip her off.

  I laid a hand on Tyrak. Think we can take three of them? I asked.

  I think you mean four. The minute you attack, she’ll command Trader Ulstat to join her side.

  Do you think we can take four of them? I amended.

  Tyrak sent me a thread of skepticism.

  Yeah, I know, I said. But what choice do we have?

  As the two Ulstats marched down the beach, trailed by Mieshk’s bodyguards, I crept away from the wall and paralleled their course. When I was about two hundred paces from the fortress, I felt Paono’s silvery touch against my mind.

  What’s happening? he asked.

  Problem, I said. She has two bodyguards.

  Rot.

  The others? Did they get the sentries off the towers?

  All the groups except one have made it back. I think the missing party got into trouble—I sense that someone’s injured, but can’t perceive more than that without losing touch with the rest of the scene. Their sparks are returning now. We’ll hope for the best.

  No alarm went up, I said. That’s what we wanted. As soon as Trader Ulstat gets Mieshk next to the boat—a thousand paces from the fortress—tell the emissaries to contact her followers. She should be far enough away that we can get them free of her compulsion, especially if she’s distracted.

  As I spoke, I continued edging forward, keeping pace with the Ulstats. We’d come five hundred paces. Halfway to the rowboat.

  Got it. But Lilik, you can’t fight three people, can you?

  Actually, Tyrak pointed out that there’ll be four. Honestly, Paono, I don’t know.

  My friend didn’t say anything for a while. Five hundred paces grew to six hundred. Finally, he thrust another thought into my mind, this one full of encouragement and confidence.

  You don’t need to fight anyone else if you take her down first.

  I smiled into the night. He was right! As soon as Mieshk died, her commands would evaporate and her guards would be free of her thrall. I could do this as long as I chose the right moment to strike.

  Seven hundred paces from the fortress. Trader Ulstat peered over his shoulder as if judging the distance. I muttered under my breath. If he could just keep it together for another three hundred paces, we might win this. But if he appeared nervous, Mieshk would get suspicious.

  A stick cracked under my foot, and I jerked to a halt, cursing my inattention. Maybe I should be worried about my part of this thing, not watching the Ulstats’ every step. Peering through the dark, I spotted a narrow passage between stands of foilwood. I pulled my arms tight to my body to avoid catching on the brittle twigs, turned sideways and threaded the gap.

  We’d come eight hundred, maybe nine hundred paces from her followers. I gritted my teeth, edging closer to the beach.

  Mieshk stopped walking. “You couldn’t convince a single guardsman to row you ashore? Are you really so pathetic, Father?”

  I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but I imagined the offense at his daughter’s continued insults. Trader Ulstat’s shoulders tensed and his steps faltered. But when he turned to face his daughter, moonlight glinted off teeth exposed in a smile.

  “As I said, my power is nothing compared to yours, Mieshk. I’ve done what I could within my limitations. I brought you soldiers, but if I try to force them ashore without your help, I’m afraid they’ll mutiny.”

  She laughed. “As I said, pathetic.”

  “Listen, daughter,” he said, shrugging. “I would hold onto the role of prime if I could. But you clearly outstrip me in ability. House Ulstat is yours. Take my soldiers for its defense.”

  As he spoke, he sidestepped around her, forcing her to put her back to the island in order to keep her eyes on him. I shook my head into the darkness. No. Not here. We weren’t far enough from her stronghold—the rowboat was another hundred paces along the shore. I slipped closer to the edge of the beach where a rocky shelf formed a ledge about waist height above the gravel.

  The bodyguards remained where they’d stopped in response to Mieshk’s halt. They were facing along the coast, toward the beached rowboat and the lava flow beyond. Not sure what else to do, I edged free of the brush at the edge of the shelf and tried gesturing toward Trader Ulstat, urging him to keep moving. If he saw me, he didn’t respond. Rot.

  “I don’t recognize the ship,” Mieshk said, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

  Trader Ulstat smiled. “A new acquisition. I wanted a swifter vessel for the voyage.”

  The man didn’t seem to be moving on. In fact, he cast an expectant look over his daughter’s shoulder as if wondering when the attack would come. Was he purposely sabotaging the plan, or had he simply misjudged the distance? In either case, every moment of delay was a chance for something else to go wrong.

  I was going to have to do this now. As soon as I sprang, the whole fortress might come down on me. But it would take time for them to cover the distance, and only around twenty paces separated me from Mieshk. As long as I killed her before reinforcements arrived, there was no problem. I focused my gaze on her back, envisioning the gap between her ribs where my dagger strike would plunge straight into her h
eart.

  I just had to be quick. Stab her before her bodyguards could react. I pressed my toe against the edge of the shelf, rocked back and bunched my legs for the jump.

  With a deep breath, I sprang, pushing off hard from the edge. Midair, I heard the shriek from down the beach.

  “Treachery, Mieshk!”

  Stunned, I botched the landing and crashed down into the pumice. Mieshk whirled to see me floundering in the gravel.

  From down the beach, more screams drew her attention. The cook raced onto the pumice and pointed at the fortress. “They plan to free the others,” the woman yelled.

  For a moment, I froze, shocked. How had the woman gotten away from Daonok? Had he let down his guard, assuming her help with the sentries was proof of her loyalty? I probably would have done the same, but Daonok was far less trusting.

  Moments later, I found my wits. It didn’t matter how it had happened. This whole threat vanished if I could just kill Mieshk.

  I scrambled in the deep gravel, finally got my feet under me, and sprinted across the beach. Tyrak joined his energy to mine, granting me nimbleness. One of the bodyguards stepped to block my path. I dove, rolled, came up beside him and launched my shoulder into his kidney. The man stumbled and fell, and I kept going.

  Mieshk was facing me now. I focused my gaze on the point directly above her heart. Nothing else mattered.

  When I was close enough, I sprang. My dagger came down in a wide, high arc. Tyrak’s point landed on her chest. An instant of resistance, then he pierced her flesh and thrust deep into her chest. Straight into her heart.

  My knee took her in the belly, and the flesh over my kneecap instantly seared. I winced, but a moment later, it was as if lighting struck between us, throwing me back. Tyrak came free with a sucking sound as Mieshk staggered and fell.

  I grinned. When I’d killed before, I’d felt immediate remorse. Not so this time. I stamped forward, Tyrak raised high in preparation for another strike. Just to be sure.

 

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