Fate of the Drowned (The Broken Lands Book 3)

by Carrie Summers

  No!

  I cocked my ear, searching the slopes above us, but the sound didn’t come again. Shaking my head, I decided it must’ve been my imagination.

  But the girl in the road was real, and my soldiers looked ready to attack her.

  “Wait,” I called. At the same time, Lilik ran from behind the guard tower, her auburn curls askew. My heart panged at the sight. She wasn’t Savra anymore. I had to pull my eyes away.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Lilik called as she trotted closer. The soldiers ignored her, looking to me for a command.

  I nodded. “She’s just a child.”

  “Innocent children don’t appear out of nowhere,” a Stormsharder muttered.

  “I said, don’t harm her.”

  With obvious reluctance, the soldier removed the point of the dagger from the girl's coat. He kept a grip on her arm, though.

  Lilik was breathless when she arrived at the opposite side of the group. Storms, but the woman was beautiful. It had been so difficult to have her around the last few days, but at least there’d been no shortage of hard work to do. The distraction made things easier.

  The soldiers stiffened when the girl drew herself up. “I must speak to the Emperor,” she said.

  I strode closer. “Who are you?”

  Her eyes met mine. “The seal is failing. The void rises. I can tell the Emperor how to defend what the ancients made, and maybe how to craft a barrier that will hold back the dark forever.”

  Her words struck deep. But after the trap at Jaliss, I couldn’t afford to be too trusting. I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Lilik’s movement caught my eye. It was so difficult not to look at her. As she circled the group of soldiers threatening the girl, I couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips. Savra’s hips. I wanted to grab her and pull her close. But I couldn’t, and I might never hold her again.

  As Lilik stepped into view, the girl turned to see who approached. Her eyes, already wide, were suddenly the size of platters.

  “Savra!” she shrieked. She tore free from the surprised soldier’s grasp and shoved aside another of my defenders. Like a bird in sudden flight, she flung herself into Lilik’s arms.

  A look of sorrow deeper than the Gray Gorge fell over Lilik’s face. “I’m so sorry. But no. I’m not Savra. Not anymore.”

  The look of confusion on the little girl’s face was so profound, I felt struck all over again by the knowledge that Savra was gone. Lilik ran a hand over the girl’s hair, smoothing the straight, wheat-colored locks. She crouched down, face to face with the girl, and they spoke in low tones. The girl shook her head fiercely. Lilik’s lower lip quivered as she brushed a tear from the girl’s cheek. After more hushed conversation, Lilik finally stood. She kept an arm around the child as she guided her toward me.

  “Kostan, I would like you to meet someone important. This is Avill Padmi. Savra’s sister.”

  ***

  Yellow glow from half a dozen lanterns filled the gatehouse and chased away evening’s shadows. Around the table, strewn now with layer upon layer of maps and notes on supplies and census information, my leadership sat in expectant silence. No doubt they felt it was my right to speak first, but I had no idea what to say.

  Looking at Savra’s little sister, I couldn’t fathom how I’d failed to notice the resemblance. They shared a straight nose, delicate eyebrows, and eyes that seemed to shine no matter their surroundings. But the real similarity was in how they carried themselves. Both Savra and Avill moved with humble confidence, sure of themselves without needing to impress others. It had been one of the first things I noticed when I’d met Savra in the Graybranch Inn.

  The silence had grown awkward. Inhaling, I put my thoughts in order.

  “I have a feeling Avill’s story will take some time,” I said. “Before we begin, I want to be sure you’ve all heard the news. Jaliss has fallen.”

  Savra’s sister sucked in a quick breath. I swallowed, regretting that this was my introduction to her. I would’ve given anything to welcome her as a family member, to ask after Savra’s parents, to embrace her and feed her the best meal the garrison could produce. Instead, I was laying the realities of an unwinnable war upon her shoulders.

  “Our scouts heard the report from a shepherd. The aurums fought valiantly but…” Despite all my years in Scion training, my voice still caught on the words. Those brave mages had given their lives so that we might have a chance to fight on. “We believe none survived. We don’t know how long the Spawn will remain in the capital, but we should assume the worst. The Riftspawn could be here by morning the day after tomorrow.”

  Beside Avill, Fishel sighed. Others drew breath and swallowed. Eyes darted over the papers. We’d worked so hard, but placed against a horde of nearly indestructible monsters, our papers and our wagons and our work details seemed a pitiful defense.

  “It’s not much time, but we’ve already had more than we’d hoped for. Our plan is sound. We may not win, but I believe we’ll meet them with strength rather than as frightened prey fleeing the wolves. And judging by Avill’s words, she has information that may help us.”

  In the relative warmth of the gatehouse, the girl had removed her fur overcoat. Beneath, she still wore what looked to be two or three warm layers, but I got a sense of how slight of build she really was. Savra had told me she was twelve, maybe thirteen now, but Avill’s size would’ve had me believe she was much younger. As everyone’s attention turned toward her, she did not shrink away but rather leaned over to pull something from her coat pocket. A strange look came into her eyes as her hand closed around the object. It seemed almost as if she carried wisdom and burdens far too expansive for a child her age.

  Avill laid her open hand on the table, showing us a pale-yellow stone. Like the wardstones, it was polished to a sheen. I raised my eyebrows in question.

  “This stone was given to me by a woman called Sheshik,” she began. “A headwoman of the Free Tribes. The stories she told me are so many and so important that she gave me this memory stone—I never could keep them in my mind otherwise. The stone has been passed through her people for more than a thousand years.”

  When the girl paused, Sirez leaned forward. “Would you indulge me, child? I’d like to know how you…” She twirled her finger in the air. “How you found yourself among the Free Tribes. And how exactly you journeyed here from the Wildsends.”

  Avill nodded, unperturbed by the questions. She pulled a necklace from beneath her layers of clothing, a greenish-white disk of stone carved with strange symbols. “It’s a Maelstrom-relic. We call it the Wind’s Gift—it allows me to ride the winds.” She glanced at me. “The quotas never said that we had to give up every relic we found, only that each one would bring us food for a month.”

  I leaned forward and down until I caught her eyes. “When I Ascended the throne, I hoped my first act would be to abolish the Decree of Functions. Fate had a different plan for my reign, but I assure you, no Prov will be punished for daring to keep the results of their hard work. That necklace is yours to keep.”

  She inclined her head, carefully slipping the pendant back inside her shirts. “Long, long ago, the Free Tribes were known as the Lethin. Before the flood came for them, they’d built a tremendous civilization. It had spread from the Icethorns to the very edges of the continent. They were skilled in many types of magic, but their earth magic especially gave them the power to create wondrous things. Unfortunately, they reached too far. The master mages pulled so much energy from the earth that they tore substance from the barrier separating our realm from the void. The void rose like a flood. The flood. They managed to create a seal but only at the very end.”

  Avill scanned our faces, her eyes narrowed as if daring us to doubt her tale. Since their introduction, Lilik had kept an arm around Avill. Now she leaned toward the girl's ear. “I believe you,” she said. “Go on.”

 
“As do I,” I said. “Don’t feel that you need to convince us. We’ve seen the threat for ourselves.”

  “Many Lethin gave of themselves—gave their lives, even—to endow the seal with the power needed to hold back the void. Mind, Body, and Essence. Each component was bolstered by a nexus of vitality where the earth mages locked the power into stone. Afterward, the survivors left the mountains. They became the First Tribe and vowed to remain in the Wildsends, keeping the story alive in case the flood ever rose again.”

  Avill swallowed with some difficulty. Falla quickly slid a waterskin to her, and the girl drank before passing it back with a grateful look.

  “Sheshik began to see signs of the void’s return more than a decade ago,” she continued. “She tried to warn the Empire without success, and finally, she taught me the stories in the desperate hope that I could convince the throne to listen.”

  “As the Emperor said, we believe you,” Sirez said. “We know the seal is failing. But we know little of how to stop it.”

  Avill wrapped her fingers around the yellow stone and kept her eyes on me. “I will say this to you in the same way it was told to me. Please forgive my manners, your highness.”

  “The proper form of address is your Eminence,” the Prime Protector said.

  Avill didn’t seem chastened by the correction—I gathered the trials she’d endured lately had armored her against harsh words. But I raised a hand to quell any more scoldings from the Prime.

  “Please call me Kostan. And please don’t mince words. I do have one question before you go on, though. When you mentioned earth magic, are you saying the Free Tribes have geognosts?”

  She cocked her head as if considering. “I hadn’t thought of it, though I suppose the powers must be related. We don’t know much of magic in Cosmal.”

  Another wave of grief slapped me. How had it been for Savra when her spiritist powers began to surface? With no one to explain what was happening, she must have been so frightened. I swallowed and motioned for her sister to continue.

  Avill’s brows were drawn together. “In fact, I think that must be it. I hadn’t thought to look for the signs. But now I remember little things. The winds always seemed to calm while they were centering the hides over a shelter. The pile of moss they burned for warmth was never wet, even after a snowstorm. I don’t think they realize they’re using the magic, though. Sheshik believed that my pendant’s power was related to—as she said—ancient earth magic. But altered because it came back from the Maelstrom.”

  The theories made sense. We’d never known how geognosty had risen among the Atal, but it must have come from intermingling with the Free Tribes. And Parveld had already explained that the magic granted by the Maelstrom-metals had been swallowed by the Hunger long ago and now had come back tainted. It could easily be the same for Maelstrom-relics.

  “Thank you, Avill,” I said. “I won’t interrupt you again. Please finish your story.”

  The girl pulled the memory stone to her breastbone. “You must defend the seal components that the Lethin created to push back the flood.”

  She held her hand out like a blade and curled her ring and pinky finger to her palm. “Imagine these fingertips are the loci of power for Body and Essence,” she said as she wiggled her index and middle finger. “Sheshik said you could find the thumb’s locus if you look deep beneath Steelhold.”

  I chewed my lip at the mention of Steelhold. She had to be speaking of the shattered Heartstone.

  Blinking as if in the throes of an idea, the Prime shuffled parchments until Stormshard’s map of the Icethorns lay atop. She held her hand over the map in the same configuration Avill had shown us. Centering her thumb over Jaliss, she rotated her hand back and forth, brow knitting as her fingers passed over markings indicating ancient ruins.

  “Is this what you mean we should do?” I asked. “That we can find these… What did you call them?”

  “Loci. The three components of the seal. The Body and Essence loci lie atop one another. One shallow and one deep into the earth. The Free Tribes remember the distance between Steelhold’s locus and the other two components as the distance an eagle flies in a day.”

  I glanced at the Prime who’d lifted her hand and ran fingertips over a pair of sites close enough to Jaliss that a bird could cover the distance in a day.

  Sirez joined the Prime in bending over the map. She traced distances and measured them with the first knuckle of her index finger. “Maybe here,” she whispered, pointing to a nearby valley.

  “Say we’d already found this stone beneath Steelhold,” I said. “What happens when a locus is destroyed?”

  “It took all three components to finally banish the void and seal the rift,” Avill said. “Sheshik believed that if any of them should fall, the void’s influence would strengthen. The flood would rise. But if all three are destroyed, our world will be lost.”

  I squeezed my temples between my thumb and middle finger. “Parveld’s trap makes all the more sense to me now.”

  “But if we can hold the rest…” Sirez said, still poring over the map.

  “Then what? We can’t last forever in the mountains.”

  “You have to agree our situation is better than we thought,” Fishel said. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s saying there are two more Heartstones. One atop the other. It seems to mean that if we find one, we’ll likely find the other.”

  Maybe he was right. Still, I shook my head. “It’s only an advantage if I can use the stones for defense. Parveld nearly killed me last time I tried.”

  “If I may continue,” Avill said quietly, “I think I can answer some of your questions.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. She reminded me so much of Savra. “Go ahead, Avill. We’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

  “You lost the first seal component. Is that what I understand?”

  I nodded, apologizing with a shrug.

  “The Jaliss locus was flawed,” she said. “The Lethin know that much. One of their own betrayed the effort to seal the barrier. So perhaps you shouldn’t give up yet, Kostan.”

  Leaning back, Sirez snorted in amusement at my expense. “So what do the Lethin suggest we do? Assuming we successfully guard the remaining Heartstones, what then?”

  Avill shook her head. “You won’t be able to. The best you can hope is to defend them for a short while.”

  The Prime looked up from the map. “Come again?”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but the Lethin’s civilization was many times more powerful than the Atal Empire. Especially their magic. You must hold the loci as long as you can. But eventually, the flood will rise up and drown you. Your only purpose for defending the seal crafted by the Lethin is to gain enough time to close the rift at its source. That’s where the Lethin failed. They believed themselves so powerful that their bindings would work from a thousand leagues away. Even if the nexus beneath Steelhold hadn’t been flawed, many of the First Tribe were adamant that their seal would eventually fail. Only by facing the void directly can you hope to stop the flood.”

  I rubbed the tabletop with the pads of my fingers. “From what I understand, the rift is in the center of the Maelstrom. Did the Lethin leave a suggestion on how to get there?”

  “Sheshik said you might ask that. And she told me to answer you this: unfortunately, if they’d known how to fix a rift that lay beneath one hundred leagues of ocean water, they’d probably have done it right in the first place.”

  “I see,” Sirez said quietly.

  No one else spoke.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Savra

  Above Westpass Garrison

  KOSTAN! AVILL!

  I swirled in the air around them, diving through their bodies, screaming at the top of my lungs.

  Kostan had heard me when the soldiers had surrounded Avill. I was sure of it. He’d cocked his head and looked around.

  But no matter how I shrieked, he couldn’t hear me
now.

  The Emperor and my sister trudged through the camp, leading a group of Stormsharders who’d volunteered to serve as guides. More groups were being sent ahead. They would leave throughout the night. With the Riftspawn a day and a half away, there was no more time to wait for the road to be cleared.

  Just a few campfires burned, and after the blaze the night before, those were placed at least twenty paces from the closest shelter. As Kostan and my sister walked, the Emperor searched the faces of the huddled Provs. Their eyes were hollow, their cheeks sunken. Their expressions pleaded with him for salvation. Kostan represented the only hope they had left.

  He approached a young couple. Avill followed behind without any of the timidity I might expect. My sister had changed in the time we’d been separated. She seemed so much older. I was desperate to hold her and ask her what had become of Mother. But I had no choice but to hover near and hope someone else would ask the questions the burned in my heart.

  “Hello, friends,” Kostan said.

  Two pairs of eyes stared up in mild confusion. “Good evening, your eminence,” the man said. He looked around as if searching for hospitality to offer his sovereign. His wife huddled close, hands wrapped around his upper arm. On flat rocks set near the low flames of their campfire, a pair of trout lay beheaded and baking.

  “I bear bad news,” Kostan said, crouching. “Jaliss has fallen.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. Despair filled her aura.

  “How soon before they’re here?” the man asked.

  Kostan laced his fingers together and stared at the fire. “We don’t know. But we can’t hope for much time. These are choices I never wished to make, but the best hope for the survival of the Atal Empire is to send our quickest citizens ahead tonight. The wagons can’t travel, and not even horses can cross the landslide debris. A few groups have gone ahead already. I’d like to send you in a band guided by a Stormshard ranger. You’ll be expected to keep up, and the word of your guide will be law. Will you go?”