If you’ve forgotten, I’m dead, and I’m only walking around in Ashkalan because my Need decided it was a good idea.
Oh, right, he said. Well, we’ll have to see about teaching your friend here to write and read. Peldin extended a thread of humility to let me know he was joking, at least partly.
So, you were explaining why you didn’t warn me about the rift earlier, right?
Was I? he asked.
No, but I think it would be a good idea, I said.
Abruptly, Peldin’s emotions surged across our bond—sadness and regret and longing for a different world. A different fate.
You know as well as I do how difficult it is to understand the future even when you can glimpse it through the duskweaving. You feel the whirl of possibility, but interpreting that is not within our ken. Yes, I knew that if a rift were opened it would take both types of channelers working together to fix it. I joined with Purviiv… She’s the woman who helped Paono—
Yes, I remember. The Vanished life-channeler.
Here’s the thing, Lilik. I did knowingly withhold a few things from you. The magic I’m going to show you—a trueweaving—reveals more about the future than either of its components. I sensed that if we came to this point… well, the truth is, I knew you’d be dead. I’ve been hoping since the moment you arrived on Ioene that my understanding of the future was wrong. Because you’ll see—you’re about to learn more about the future than you ever wished to see. Sure, I could’ve told you I’d envisioned you here. Now. But why? Why tell you that you had less than a year to live?
Finally, I understood why his comments had such an edge to them, the reason for his constant sarcasm. He’d been protecting himself. Protecting me, maybe, because if we became too close, it would only be harder for him to lie to me.
I think I understand, I said.
And I’m sorry I was too afraid to tell the truth.
I thought back on the time I’d had with Raav. We’d been through so much, so many struggles. But I’d had so much joy from our time together. If I’d known it would end so soon, I probably wouldn’t have allowed myself the pleasure.
Again, the Hunger pressed against my control. With a shiver, I forced it back to the crevices of my heart.
I’m sorry it has to be this way, Lilik, Peldin said quietly. But let’s begin so that Paono can release his hold on the dawnweaving sooner. Life-channeling has always hurt both the channeler and the living. Go to the first symbol.
With a nod, I stepped forward and laid my hands on the rune. As I did, I felt the vitality of the nightstrands trapped within the pigment. Paono stepped up beside me and did the same.
Now, Peldin said, each of you must release every boundary between your minds. Paono must be able to feel, through you, the nightstrands. And through Paono, you’ll sense the sparks. The difficulty lies in baring your soul—every corner of your mind—to the other person. With Purviiv and me, it took many days. And finally, though I’m ashamed to admit it, a few sleepless nights to break down our inhibitions.
There won’t be a need for that, Paono said abruptly joining our conversation. I’ve nothing to hide from my best friend.
I hesitated. This might be easy for Paono, but it wasn’t for me. He’d always been honest and had never seemed as if he felt he had something to prove. Whereas I constantly wondered if I was just a fraud. I couldn’t stand the thought of him realizing how inadequate I actually was compared to the face I showed the world.
Already, I felt him casting away the last barriers between his mind and mine. I swallowed.
On instinct, I reached for Tyrak. But he wasn’t there. The dagger was lost somewhere high on Ioene’s slopes. There was no one to reassure me.
Deep within my mind, the Hollow One stirred and crouched for another assault. My fear strengthened it. I had to stop.
“I’m afraid,” I said at last.
Paono stepped closer. “I know. You’ve always tried to hide what you assume are your weaknesses. You’re afraid that people won’t believe in you if they see your imperfections. Don’t forget, I know you, Lilik. And I love you for your faults as much as your strengths.
I searched his face for hints he might be lying. Nothing but sincerity colored his expression. I balled my fists, grimacing when my fingertips plunged through the flesh of my not-quite-real hands. Fine. I’d let Paono in. He’d only have himself to blame if the things he learned about me destroyed his illusions.
With a deep breath, I pulled away the final curtains shielding my inner self. Paono’s spirit joined with mine, and our weaves converged, two rivers rushing together to form the ocean.
I was floating on my back in a turquoise sea. I knew two things. First, the sea was many things. It represented our trueweaving, my magic joined with Paono’s. The future, the past, and moments that might have been were all embodied by the gentle waters. Second, I understood that I wasn’t really swimming. This ocean was just a way for my island-raised mind to understand what was otherwise beyond my comprehension.
I rotated so that my head and shoulders were out of the water. I couldn’t touch bottom; a glance down gave no hint of the depth. Scissoring my legs and fluttering my hands, I kept my head above water and spun in a lazy circle. Sunlight glinted off ripples on the surface. Beside me, Paono faded into existence.
He sank then came up spluttering. After a moment, he looked around, not frightened but certainly bewildered.
“Interesting…” he said simply. “What now?”
I squinted across the sun-sparkling waters. In the distance, a low island peeked above the surface.
“There,” I said pointing. And I knew, instantly, that the island represented my Need. And Paono’s Want. Just a lazy swim away.
Paono set out, swimming confidently as only an island-born can. I followed, feeling the sun on my back. With a flush of embarrassment, I realized I was wearing just my underclothes. But the emotion vanished quickly. None of this was real, and anyway, I’d swum with Paono many times before.
I made it about ten paces before a cloud skidded across the sun, its shadow sliding across the water to swallow me. Something clamped on my ankle. Cold iron. An abrupt weight levered my legs down, nearly sucking me under.
I kicked against it, peered through the nearly clear water, and gasped at the sight of an Ulstat cannonball chained to my ankle by heavy links and an iron cuff. I froze, shocked, only to be dragged beneath the surface. Frantic, I kicked and managed to get my face above the water. But when I inhaled, spray from my thrashing arms splashed down my throat. I coughed, struggling.
“Paono!” I yelled.
I couldn’t see him, could only swim and thrash and hope to keep my lungs clear.
Wind stirred the sea’s surface. A wave slapped my face. With it came a vision. I saw Raav walking along one of the slate-flagstone streets in Istanik’s trader district. His back was turned, but I would recognize his figure anywhere. His wide shoulders tapered to a slim waist, and his confident strides were unmistakable as he walked toward his home. Someone was with him, a woman. They were holding hands. I couldn’t see her face. But I knew she wasn’t me—her hair was too short, lighter, and with a slight wave in it. My heart ached at the sight. But what should I expect? I was dead. I should hope for him to find happiness someday.
The image faded, and sunlight stabbed my eyes as the clouds parted for just an instant before boiling thunderheads clapped shut over the sun. A downdraft from the coming storm roared across the water. Again the cannonball pulled me under. With the cold water pouring over my head came another vision of Istanik. My home. Ruined. The spires of the trader Houses had been toppled; broken stone was strewn across the streets. Gaping holes had swallowed entire blocks.
And the gutter slums were gone. Flattened. Nothing but charred bones remained.
Warm hands slid under my armpits, dispelling the sight. Paono was here, and he tried to help me swim. But the weight on my ankle dragged at us both.
Somehow, I understood what the
anchor was. The Hunger that lived within me had entered our trueweaving. With it dragging at me, I couldn’t swim. I couldn’t reach my Need.
A wave washed over us, and abruptly, I saw hundreds of visions. I was drowning in futures. Another girl from another time huddled in a dark stone cell. The nightstrands spoke to her, but she didn’t understand their words. Elsewhere, a young woman with hair the color of fire and tattoos from wrists to shoulders pored over a book, desperate for answers, as the city around her quaked. Grief deeper than the sea beneath me filled her heart.
I gagged, and water spewed out of my mouth.
“Don’t fight, Lilik!” Paono yelled. He rolled me on my back, face to the dark-bellied clouds. I sucked in a deep breath, coughed out more seawater, and inhaled again. Fat raindrops began to spatter my face.
“Help swim if you can,” Paono said as he started stroking for the island.
Another wave crashed over my face, but I held my breath just in time. Still, another fate flashed to life within my mind. Ioene exploded in a world-ending spray of flame and darkness.
Paono coughed as a wave smacked him in the face, and we stopped moving for a moment while he recovered. From the iron band around my ankle, heaviness crept up my leg. My bones were filling with lead because the Hunger was inside of me.
When I risked a glimpse ahead, the island was invisible beyond the angry waves. We weren’t going to make it. The Hunger was going to drown us both.
“We have to cast off the illusion,” I yelled. “There is no sea.”
“What?”
“It’s a construct of our minds. Because we can’t understand the weave of time and fate. But you’ll still drown if you keep trying to swim.”
As I tried to detach from the frothing seas and the inexorable pull of the iron chain, I heard Peldin screaming from far, far away. You’re too deep! You must only skim the surface of the magic!
“Remember where you are!” I yelled to Paono. “Ashkalan!”
I closed my eyes to the crashing waves and roiling skies. As if in response, the water grew colder. More sinister. Throwing me back and forth. I needed to find my way out of the currents, but I couldn’t concentrate while struggling against the waves.
With a last deep breath, I pried Paono’s hands off of me. He snatched, trying to regain his grip, but I batted away his attempts.
The weight of my inner darkness pulled me down. Away from my friend.
Once again, I closed my eyes. I remembered the smell of cinders. The gray-white stone of Ashkalan. The cold undersides of my toes where they overhung the fronts of my ratty old sandals.
With a roar of an entire sea dropping off the edge of the world, the ocean vanished, depositing me in the mist-soaked air of Ashkalan.
Beside me, Paono crumpled, face pale, eyes flitting back and forth beneath his lids.
“Paono!” I yelled, dropping to a crouch. I tried to slap his face, to wake him from the nightmare sea but my hand passed straight through his flesh. Still, though I stood on the terrace wearing the ratty clothes of my youth, looking for all the world like a living, breathing girl, I was nothing but a ghost.
“I’m pretty sure I saw the lava burn you to a crisp,” a weak voice said. “Then again, we Ulstats are cursed with the tendency to see and hear things that aren’t really there.”
Sitting on the low wall, Mieshk planted an elbow on her knee and cradled her chin in her hand.
Chapter Twenty-Six
AS SHE WATCHED me, Mieshk hunched over her belly, a shell of the sneering trader heir she’d been. I was so shocked by her arrival that it took a moment for the sight of the harbor behind her to register. As soon as it did, the roar pounded my ears.
Before, the rift had been small gash in reality, a black and sucking rent hanging above the harbor waters. Now, it was a gaping hole so wide it swallowed the harbor completely. Worse, as I watched, the sea rose. A massive wave crashed through the narrow corridor between the harbor and sea, funneling down the empty gullet of the Hunger. At once, like the massive tidal waves spoken of in ancient histories, more waves crashed over the tops of the cliffs that defended the harbor from the sea, rushing into swamp the lowest levels of the city.
And with a choking and gurgling sound, the Hunger sucked the ocean down. With each passing second, the void grew.
As horrorstruck as I was, the sound from the mountain above plunged another dagger of terror into my heart. I spun to see raging, molten devastation spill from the crater lip.
“What’s happening!” I screamed.
Mieshk stared at me, eyes hollow. “The Hunger covets our life. And with every scrap of stone or leaf or laughter that it swallows, its desire only grows stronger. Its power only increases.” She looked over her shoulder then turned back to me. “Much longer, and that rift will crack the world wide open.”
Cataclysm.
I closed my eyes in an attempt to find calm. Another wave cascaded over the seaward cliffs in a waterfall one thousand paces wide. The Hunger sucked it down.
“As I mentioned, the Ulstats have a particular affliction,” Mieshk said. A despondent look crossed her face. “Madness. Unfortunately, I suffered from our curse. I didn’t realize it until your friend took it from me. Burned it away with my magic. Leaving me to see, with perfect clarity, how far I’ve fallen.”
She glared at Paono’s slumped form. His breath was shallow, his skin gray. A flash of anger heated my face. Why was Mieshk still alive? Why had Paono passed up the opportunity to end her forever?
Out of habit, I reached for the dagger sheath at my hip. My hand passed straight through my flesh.
Mieshk raised her eyebrows at my insubstantial flesh. “Interesting.”
I wanted to throttle her then throw her into the Hunger she had wakened. Still, the raw power from the trueweaving sizzled through my body. Maybe I could use Paono’s magic andWant to destroy her right now. I could bring lightning down from the sky and watch her die in a flash of light. I spared the thought a few, delicious seconds, but a flaming blob of lava plummeted from the sky and fell straight into the gate before us. The Hunger roared. The rift widened. Deep in my soul, the Hollow One surged.
Gritting my teeth, I turned my attention back to Mieshk. “Help me,” I said. “I can close the rift, but I need Paono to wake up.”
A desolate smirk landed on her face. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you beg. The gutterborn who had the impudence to pretend she was something more.”
“Yes, if that’s what you’d want to hear, I’ll beg.”
“Kneel,” she said flatly.
Rage vibrated in every corner of my body. I hit her with my iciest glare. I tried to make my feet move, but my pride resisted. Undone and wretched, she was trying to regain the only thing that had mattered in her lift, a sense of power.
Paono is open to you, Peldin said, abruptly in my head.
Not a good time, Peldin.
And I say that it is. You and Paono complement one another. He recognizes your strengths, openly and freely. It’s time for you to see his.
What in the rotting midden heap was he talking about? Paono was unconscious. Did Peldin agree that I should Want to hit her with a lightning bolt? Somehow I didn’t think so.
What would Paono do now? he said.
He would do the exact same thing he’d done on the crater rim. He’d grant her undeserved mercy, something I really struggled to understand, much less act on.
I tried to think about it rationally. I’d seen the kindness over and over growing up with Paono. His gentle words could turn the most spiteful old laundress into a smiling friend who’d scrub his filthy socks for free. But he wasn’t doing it to manipulate anyone. Compassion came naturally to him.
As long as Mieshk saw an enemy in me, she’d never help. She’d do everything she could to humiliate me before throwing herself to the Hunger. Mieshk didn’t care about living; I could see it in her eyes. She’d never been given a reason to care other than her quest for power. I’d spe
nt far too much time in House Ulstat. I knew the conditions she’d endured. But maybe, with the madness expunged from her mind, she could find a way to reverse her beginnings.
But I couldn’t pretend to like her. It’d been hard enough to simply ask for her help.
I understood now what Peldin meant. I couldn’t get past my own, stubborn pride to treat Mieshk with compassion. But Paono acted that way on instinct. His mind was open to me. I could draw from more than the strength of his magic. I could draw from the strength of his heart.
I groped through the aether until I found the link between us and followed it back to Paono’s mind. His current thoughts, no doubt consumed with thrashing across the waves on the sea of possibility, were a roiling ball that I was afraid to touch. But beyond, I sensed the tranquil core of his spirit. To me, it was a blue-gray sky, or maybe that quicksilver sea I’d swam when I’d first been pulled into his dawnweaving. In any case, I stretched my awareness until his inner spirit joined with mine. In a way, it reminded me of aurora meeting fire. His steadfastness provided boundaries to the fiery side of my personality that caused a lot of problems but also gave me the determination I needed.
As I withdrew my senses from the aether, I brought his strength with me. Both of us, together.
Before me, Mieshk scowled. “I see,” she said. “You still haven’t learned how to behave in front of your betters.”
Any other time, I would’ve snapped off a retort. Instead, I stepped across the terrace and sat beside her on the wall. I tried to ignore the sucking Hunger behind us for just a minute more.
Paono’s compassion urged me to lay a hand on hers. For once, I was glad my flesh was insubstantial—I wasn’t ready to touch her. Instead, I turned to her with a gentle expression. Not a smile; I didn’t want her to think I was mocking her.
Darkborn (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 4) Page 20