Definitely anger now. “Perhaps you’re not the best person to be lecturing about keeping your word, Journeyer Tersic.” Sachin spoke from between his teeth.
“Well,” she murmured, “the mistake was mine. It goes to show you cannot expect a child to keep every oath he makes.”
Sachin’s eyes sparked, and Falean’s cheeks flushed. They glared like there was nobody apart from themselves in the room. Uncertainty darkened Anjita’s eyes as she glanced between them.
No one’s looking. Do it now! Avlingai cried.
Surreptitiously, Munayair snatched a handful of ash from the box and stuffed it in her pocket. She bit back a grin and drained her bowl.
Good work. Avlingai’s laugh rolled like a wave towards the shore, spray rising from the wind.
“Sachin,” Lady Tarokh warned.
He snapped his gaze away from Falean and gulped his wine, glaring at nothing. When Anjita tried to meet his gaze, he didn’t even glance at her.
Movement attracted Munayair’s attention. She looked over to see a tiny white cat threading its way through the lounging partygoers. No one else paid it any mind, and Munayair grinned as she watched it come closer and closer. None of the other illusions had come up and rubbed themselves on her leg. She rubbed its head, marveling at its lifelike fur, and it blinked mismatched eyes up at her. One amber and one blue.
Eyes that see into heaven, Avlingai cooed.
A clattering sound rang through the courtyard and the door burst open. The cat jumped to her feet and fled. A blue-and-bronze uniform clanked into the room, shoving through the crowd. He stopped in front of the pavilion and bowed to Sachin. “Young Lord Tarokh, Captain Behdad sent me with urgent news.”
Sachin’s face darkened and he beckoned, wiping his lips with his napkin. The guard bent close and murmured in his ear. Sachin hissed, “Absurd. That’s never happened before.”
The guard bowed again. “It’s confirmed, my lord.”
“I’ll leave immediately.” Sachin jumped to his feet. He was pale-faced, with two vibrant spots of color on his cheekbones. He turned and bowed to the rest of the table. “My apologies, Mama. I have urgent business to attend to.”
“What’s happened?” Anjita asked, frowning.
Sachin’s hand trembled as he smoothed the front of his tunic. “The Night Watcher is inside the city walls. He’s finally come to face me.”
Anjita pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes going wide, while Falean’s hands seized around her bowl. The entire courtyard had fallen silent, every noble gawking. Munayair’s stomach lurched as she swirled the wine in her bowl.
It worked! Avlingai cheered.
Chapter 20: Golden
“Oh, Sachi, must you?” Lady Tarokh fretted. “And in your best tunic!”
“Sorry, Mama, no time to change.” His eyes burned with excitement as he turned to the rest of the table. “Well, ladies, up for some late-night entertainment?”
Munayair recorked her jar and hid it in her pocket. She patted the hard lump and giggled again, filled to the brim with golden delight as a bowl was filled with wine. I’m barely even drunk, she thought gleefully. This is perfect.
Nothing can go wrong, Avlingai replied with confidence.
Lady Tarokh gulped her wine and tapped the bowl, signaling the servant to pour her another. Too excited to speak, Sachin bounced from the room, leading the three women out, followed by his mother’s shout:
“Sachin Iman Tarokh, if you ruin another tunic, I shall take the cost of a new one out of your retainer!”
All four of them loaded into the waiting carriage. Sachin took the reins and urged the horses down the winding driveway at high speed. Ten mounted soldiers waited outside the gate with torches and grim expressions. Two other officers waited on restless horses. Sachin leaped from the carriage onto a saddle, and a pale, nervous groom climbed into the driver’s seat. Munayair sat forward when she saw Sachin’s hunting horse. It was a magnificent blue roan, the tips of its ears curving inward to form an almost perfect circle. Her father’s warhorse might be taller and stronger, but this was the most graceful creature she had ever seen. “Wow, wow! What a beauty!” she cried.
It’s that horse again! Avlingai cheered. Things are going our way.
Rough hands jerked her back into her seat. “You are forbidden to drink anymore,” Anjita growled.
Journeyer Mahil, you are fast and deadly, Avlingai said, but also a bit of a wet blanket. He and Munayair giggled together, curled in the seat, while the others did their best to ignore them.
“Shouldn’t we leave her?” Anjita whispered anxiously. “What if she gets hurt?”
Falean hesitated, then shook her head with a line between her eyebrows. Frowning, Anjita sat back in her seat, tugging at the tightly-laced dress.
“Well?” Sachin snapped at another officer.
“This way, sir,” he said, wheeling his horse and leading them at a fast canter through the darkened streets.
The carriage thundered around corners on two wheels, threatening to tip them onto the cobblestones. Howler hung very low, teeth bared in a snarl, while Bader rested on the horizon, little more than a sliver. Anjita clung to the seat, muttering under her breath—either praying or cursing. Beside her, Falean sat with folded hands and a composed expression.
Munayair grinned at the stars wheeling overhead. Her theory had been right. Getting drunk was how she could meet the Night Watcher! The first time she had seen him in the inn yard was also the first time she had been drunk. And the always-intoxicated Bast wandered in his forbidden grove without coming to harm. Now she was drunk again, and he came.
The carriage skidded around another tight corner and the stars jolted. She lowered her eyes, swallowing back nausea. Drinking did come with a few drawbacks.
Luckily the frenzied ride soon came to a halt, and the groom reined in the sweating horses. A company of foot soldiers marched into view from a side street, fifty strong. Sachin wheeled his agitated mount and began spouting brisk orders. “Red company and I will circle around and flush him out. You six, stay with the adepts. Be ready.” He indicated a few soldiers, and they trotted forward to surround the carriage. The rest dispersed with a great noise of boots and rattling weapons. Soon the three women, their guards, and the trembling groom waited alone in the dark street.
Munayair’s hiccupping giggles echoed from the silent buildings. Anjita motioned a soldier over and commandeered his light bow. Falean bent and fetched a sheath from inside her boot. While most of the soldiers watched in silence, one young man ventured a question. “Why do you need weapons?” he said. “Surely you have all you need with your spells.”
“Silly.” Munayair shook her head, chuckling louder. “Word magic doesn’t work on spirits.”
None of the soldiers would look at her. They seemed afraid of her for some reason she couldn’t fathom.
Falean crooked a finger at the man who had spoken—boy, really, not yet able yet to shave. He stepped towards her, eyes wide. “What’s your name, soldier?” she asked.
“Ab—Abhi, milady.” His hands tightened around the spear haft in his hands.
As he watched with shining eyes, she drew her dagger from its sheath so the blade flashed in the moonslight. “You see these markings?” she asked.
“Y—yes, milady,” he whispered.
“This blade was forged from pure iron, engraved with a blessing to strike true, and quenched in saltwater. We will not allow the Night Watcher to escape this time, will we?”
Abhi stood a little straighter. “No, milady.”
She touched his shoulder and smiled. “Then get ready. It will not be long now.”
They waited. Anjita’s knee bounced. The soldiers passed around a long-stemmed pipe. Inside Munayair’s mind, Avlingai sang a silly tongue-twister in Old Taellori. Beaming at the sky, she hummed along while counting Howler’s teeth.
… kag vgitch, goanotch, mchamchtch, guudotch …
… we fall, attack, tremble, sing ...
&
nbsp; Anjita whirled toward Munayair. “Cut it out!” she cried.
Falean held up a hand for silence. “Did you hear that?” she breathed.
Instantly, every soldier was on alert, spears and bows held at the ready. They scanned the street grimly, the whites of their eyes flashing in Howler’s pale light.
Something moved on top of the three-story building nearest them. It rose and elongated, a dark shape silhouetted against the wolf moon’s grin. A cloak billowed around it, disguising its shape, a sheathed sword in its hand.
Munayair saw it first. Waving, she cried, “Wow, wow, what a cool shadow!”
The soldiers reacted on cue, half kneeling and loosing arrows in a deadly storm. The rest stepped forward and aimed spears. The dark shape didn’t flinch as missiles flew all around him. The soldiers drew back for another volley.
“Spare your weapons.” Falean held up a hand. “He’ll come to us.”
Even as she spoke, the figure shifted. In one fluid motion, he stepped off the rooftop and dangled from the edge before dropping to the street. He landed lightly, without a sound. The soldiers were rigid with terror, hands tightening around weapons. Quickening breath echoed in the stillness.
Golden joy overflowed from Munayair. “Wow! Wow! So clever you are. ‘He’ll come to us.’ And he did!” She leaned close to Falean and kissed her. She was very soft and smelled like rosemary.
Falean stepped away, frowning. “Miss Sarem-Ori, control yourself.”
In silence the Night Watcher rose to his feet and turned, face still in shadow. He stood only ten paces away. A motionless shape distinguishable from thick moon-shadows only by the glitter of eyes.
Anjita moved first, darting forward with a cry. She loosed an arrow, pursued by a spell. He moved one step and somehow both went wide. The spell blew a chunk of plaster out of the wall and the arrow thunked into a tree. The boy, Abhi, followed her. His wild swing tangled in her sleeves, sending the two of them tumbling almost at the shadow’s feet. Courteously, the Night Watcher bent and offered a hand, which Abhi gawked at and Anjita took, grumbling. Once she was on her feet she herded the boy back, nocking another arrow, but the shadow made no move to follow.
“Wow! Wow! Amazing!” Munayair threw her arms around Anjita. Her aim was wild and the kiss landed on her nose.
Anjita threw her off with a curse. “Stop being so useless! You’re the spirit expert, so do something! You.” She pointed to Abhi. “Stay with her.”
“I ... I’m sorry, milady adept,” he whispered, cheeks darkening in the moonslight.
She shook her head. “Don’t leave her side, you hear? I’m counting on you.”
He nodded, jaw hardening in determination. Clutching his spear tighter, he stepped after Munayair. She was chasing a slow-drifting firefly and muttering the tongue-twister over and over.
“Kag vgitch, goanotch, mchamchtch, guudotch, igkh guudkh kukharder … vgitch, goan—no, goanch, no, vgitch, goanotch, mtch—no, vgitch. Stop making fun of me, Av, you’re just jealous you’ve got no tongue to trip over.”
A shadow stood in the middle of the street, waiting for … what? The soldiers closed in with silent purpose, weapons raised high. Falean stood with the silver dagger clasped in front of her. She signaled with two fingers, and they attacked.
The Night Watcher shifted, the eye of the storm, using the spearmen’s strengths against themselves. Jabs went wild, seasoned warriors tripped over their own feet. More than one went sprawling. He moved among them like smoke, here one moment and gone the next. Blows meant to cleave him in half instead cracked cobblestones. Spearheads barely even stirred his cloak as they passed by. All the while, he had never unsheathed the sword he carried in one hand.
Munayair had lost track of the firefly and now, turning, noticed the dramatic scene. “Wow, wow!” She clapped. “Keep trying. You can do it!” She grinned, raising both fists encouragingly.
When she spoke, the shadow turned, and Howler’s light glinted in his eyes. All the soldiers came to a ragged halt, panting, and the street filled with silence as everyone waited. The Night Watcher hesitated and took half a step in her direction. Abhi stepped in front of her, trembling spear leveled at chest height.
“Loose!” Anjita cried.
The archers let loose another volley. Against all odds, every weapon missed that dark shape. It was hard to see how, especially since Munayair’s vision was blurred and she saw three Night Watchers instead of one. All she knew was he never moved.
A sound like thunder preceded a troop of guards rounding the corner, Sachin in the lead. He shouted orders, and they attacked, crying out in defiance. Half hurried around to cut off retreat from the rear. The rest alternated between darting in with jabbing spears and sheltering behind shields. Nine out of ten jabs resulted in a shattered spear haft. The Night Watcher still had not unsheathed his sword.
This is so entertaining, Avlingai said, even better than a shadow play.
One of the guards stood apart with the bansuri flute raised to his lips. He began to play, and from the first note a peaceful lassitude fell over the street. Stay, be still, no enemies await here.
That spell is so soothing, Avlingai chuffed.
Anjita clapped her hands over her ears, and even Falean had to shake her head to dislodge the compulsion. Munayair had long ago forgotten fear and the music only made her feel like moving. She grabbed a soldier by the hands and twirled them around, laughing. Why had she avoided dancing in the past? She was so good at it!
The guards might as well have been swinging at shadows, for all the good their bravado and crafty strategy did. The Night Watcher turned their momentum and strength against them. He sidestepped so their sorties stumbled into each other. Ferocious blows whistled through empty air, and arrows shattered against stone. Even as the music rose high into the night sky, gentle and commanding, his pace never slowed. After several long moments of this humiliating treatment, the guards backed away. Somehow Munayair’s dance partner escaped, but someone else stopped beside her. She spun again to see Sachin. Her heart swelled with fondness at his cocky grin.
“Wow! Wow, Sachi.” She reached up to cradle his face. “So handsome you are.”
“Miss Sarem-Ori!” he protested, wriggling when she kissed him.
Gasping in alarm, Abhi tugged on her arm, so she let Sachin go and pouted. “Everyone is so serious.”
They should drink more wine, Avlingai agreed.
“And then the spirit will come to them!” Munayair laughed.
Sachin shot a curious look at her. “Are you talking to someone, Miss Sarem-ori?” he asked.
Abhi shook his head. “It’s the drink, my lord. She’s soused to the ears.”
Clustered into a new formation, the soldiers rushed forward to attack again. The street rang with the sound of clanging metal, grunts of effort, and thudding boots. The bansuri’s voice soared like a dove, and Munayair closed her eyes, swaying to the sound. Although the golden warmth filling her demanded to be shared, everyone she had tried to gift it to had rejected it. She knew they would like it if only they would give her the chance.
You cannot always share the gifts you’re given, Avlingai said.
“You are the only one who understands me, Av,” she said. Sachin watched her silently, curiously.
The Night Watcher paused, turned, and looked right at her. He twirled the sword and one corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. An obvious challenge. An invitation.
Munayair froze. “Of course,” she realized.
Avlingai’s purring satisfaction rose to meet her new determination. Perfect.
No sooner had she decided than she was moving. With the quickness of feet of someone who had trained with weapons from a very young age, she ran straight for the shadow. Abhi charged beside her, pale-faced, spear swinging. Falean stepped after him with a shout, too slowly. Her hand closed on empty air. Stumbling forward, he pushed Munayair out of the way of another soldier’s sword thrust.
And stepped into the path of the blow
himself.
Chapter 21: Mortal
A loud clang rang around the street. Munayair blinked, unable to process what had happened for a long moment.
Everyone came to a ragged halt, gaping. The flute squawked and fell silent. The Night Watcher’s blade, finally unsheathed, blocked the blow that would have killed Abhi, whose quivering spear dangled from nerveless fingers. The sword flashed back into its sheath, and the offending soldier’s weapon clattered to the street, leaving him wringing numb fingers. Abhi backed away, gasping soundlessly.
Unheeding, Munayair stepped forward. She was fascinated by the face half-hidden, half-illuminated by Howler’s light. The glittering eyes fastened on her with unwavering attention.
Behind her, Sachin heaved a sigh. “At last.”
“Wait,” Abhi managed to whisper, reaching out to drag Munayair back.
“Let her go, boy.” Sachin’s voice was loud and precise. He gestured, and the soldiers retreated. Reluctantly, Abhi joined them.
From this distance, she could see the eyes illuminated by Howler’s sparse gleam. Unlike the rest of the street, the silver moonslight didn’t drain them of color. They flashed at her, bright as gold.
I’ve seen eyes like that before, Avlingai hummed. A long, long time ago. He fell silent.
Words rose from the morass of Munayair’s brain, emerging unbidden from her mouth. “Your eyes are beautiful,” she exclaimed. “I’ve seen spirits with eyes like jewels, but never gold.”
A tremor ran through the waiting soldiers, nervous giggles. She took one step closer, then another. The Night Watcher stood like a stone. The grin slipped off his face.
“Is that all it takes? Compliments?” Anjita grabbed a spear from a nearby soldier. “Night Watcher, you’re the finest swordsman I’ve ever seen.” She saluted and charged. The spirit’s eyes narrowed, although he never looked away from Munayair. One moment Anjita was attacking and the next she was flying, landing with a wet thump on a pile of refuse.
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