Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set

by Carrie Summers

  Crouched at the thicket’s fringe, I peered up and down the shore. Anker’s body was gone, which was a relief. I’d never seen a dead person. Well, unless you counted Anker himself, in those panicked moments of the fight. I didn’t know how I’d react to his lifeless form.

  The beach appeared empty, just a stretch of black gravel broken by tufts of dried seaweed and the occasional thrust of a larger, wave-battered rock.

  “Wait here for a minute,” I whispered. I hopped down from the brush-choked shelf, feet crunching in the pumice, and stepped toward the water to see farther down the coast.

  The ocean’s scent was stronger here than near the lagoon, probably due to the piles of seaweed at the tide line. Out to sea, jellyfish danced and twirled in the swirling waters where the wave motion mixed with hot jets from the lava. The stars glittered. Altogether a welcome change from the lagoon’s crowded confines. Heiklet was the ideal companion for a day like this. Quiet and pleasant. Not much older than my brother Jaret, in many ways she reminded me of him.

  I strode up the beach to the leaning boulders and peeked inside, raising my palms to light the interior. The bed shelf was just as I remembered, padded with a mat of sticks atop leaves and seaweed. On the floor—

  Wait. I dropped to a crouch and held my hands over the fire right. The coals were still warm. Hot, even. Reap and rot. My feet slipped as they paddled the gravel, digging deep trenches while I scrambled back toward Heiklet.

  My stomach leaped into my throat when a shriek pierced the air. I pushed my legs faster, long strides flying over the beach.

  “Run! There’s too many—”

  Something clamped down over Heiklet’s words, cutting her off. I froze.

  Another scream, this one muffled. Near the spot I’d left her, a pair of dark figures dropped to the beach, coming into aggressive crouches.

  I stared, paralyzed. Heiklet. The men shuffled forward.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  I couldn’t fight two grown men, plus however many were with Heiklet. Flight was my only choice, get away and return with help. I whirled and sprinted down the shore. Behind me, running strides crunched in the gravel, gaining.

  I cut hard inland, nearly losing my footing. With terror digging talons into my back, I vaulted with a crash into a thorny tangle. Sticks clawed at my arms, legs, and face. I plowed on with blind panic, stumbled and went down onto a bed of rocks that felt like knives. Rolled. Scrambled forward. Behind me, my pursuers grunted and complained when they entered the patch of thorns.

  I couldn’t outrun them, had to do something besides run like a terrified rabbit before the hunting hounds. I needed to use my knowledge or my size.

  The thought flashed to life, a chance to use my advantages. If I could make it.

  Veering toward Ioene’s cone, I willed my cramping legs to pump as I scrambled up talus and scree, bound for the intricate folds and cliffs of the island’s shoulder. Atop the first steep pitch of land, I shoved a boulder back down the slope. It smashed into the scree, loosing a clattering avalanche of smaller stones. The men below cursed and ran sideways.

  Not pausing, I continued up with heaving breath. A couple more obstacles like that, and I might make it.

  At the next vantage, I sprang onto a boulder and glanced back. The men weren’t far behind, perhaps a minute or two. They scrabbled up the mountainside, using hands and feet and not speaking. I could hear their breath rasping in and out. Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I shook my head. These people were determined. Mightily determined. And my carelessness had delivered Heiklet to them. What would happen to my friend?

  Keep it together, Lilik. Guilt could come later. I’d be no help to her if I were captured, too.

  Hefting a pair of rocks the size of large goose eggs, I threw my hardest. The men raised their hands to deflect the missiles, and I used the moment to jump from the boulder and continue on. I was over halfway there.

  By the time I neared the cliffs marking my high point on the day I’d fallen into the crack, I caught a hint of sulfur in the air. Good. The vent was still releasing steam.

  I tore off my sleeveless jacket and wrapped it around my nose and mouth. It wouldn’t work for long—I’d get woozy from the poison gas almost as fast as the men would. But I didn’t need long.

  I stopped when I saw the mist rising, ghostly, from the hole in the ground. Chest heaving, I turned to face my pursuers. One, two, three . . . I counted slowly to twenty while they approached. When I could see the shadows in the hollows of their faces, I spun and continued up, just fast enough to convince them I was still attempting to flee.

  One of the men let out a low growl. The steam was closer now, stinging my throat through the cloth.

  When I felt the first brush of lightheadedness, I cut sharply to the right, leaping from boulder to boulder. My legs seized and ached and wobbled, but I ignored the pain.

  “Strange.”

  I heard just the one word, probably carried to my ears by a lucky swirl of air. After another hundred paces, I climbed a small hill of rubble. Pulling the jacket from my face, I sniffed the air. No hint of sulfur. No damp poison seeping into my body.

  I squinted and spotted the men’s collapsed forms, slumped across the rocky slope.

  Crumpling to a seat, I dropped my head to my knees. Safe, for now. I’d managed it.

  My leg muscles cramped and throbbed while I watched the motionless forms. My scrapes and cuts settled into a dull burn. Time stretched out like a ray of moonlight cast over the endless dark sea, and still they didn’t move.

  The realization crept into my heart like tea suffusing water, darkening what had once been clear. I’d escaped, yes. Those men wouldn’t chase me anymore. In truth, those men would never chase anyone again. The last time I’d blundered into the poisonous air, I’d been rescued from the fumes by falling down a crevice. But without that salvation . . .

  I stared. Were they dead already?

  When I next inhaled, it was a shaky breath full of the desire to cry. But I wouldn’t. Not now. These people had set an ambush, captured Heiklet. Like it or not, she’d put her faith in me, and I’d failed her.

  We had to rescue her, and every moment that I sat mourning my actions was a delay I couldn’t afford. I pushed to my feet, legs like liquid under my weight, and began picking my way down the slope, leaving the dead men behind me.

  Regrets are a privilege earned by survivors.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  RAAV WAS SWIMMING when I surfaced.

  “Lilik!”

  Warm hands landed on my shoulders. “What happened? You’re bleeding.” He flopped onto the pool’s edge, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out. “Bring water! Now!” he called.

  From behind, hurried footsteps scuffed over the stone ledge. A water skin touched my lower lip, gentle as a mother’s caressed. Raav’s concerned face hovered over me, lit by the wavy blue light that filled the lagoon. Home. Sanctuary. I closed my eyelids, sank down deep, let him care for me.

  After he’d gone over my face and limbs, Raav patted my cheek. When I opened my eyes, the group circled me.

  “Tell us what happened, Lilik. Then you can rest.”

  Heiklet. I had to get up. Help. Organize the rescue.

  I muscled into a seated position, gagging when my head swam. Raav slipped behind me and, crouching, propped his forearms under my armpits to support my weight.

  “They took Heiklet.”

  He dropped to a seat and nudged me to lean back against his chest. “You mean, they captured her and you got away?”

  I nodded. “We didn’t see anyone or we never would have gotten so close to the beach.”

  “Did they follow you back?” Gaff said, already holding his crutch like a club.

  “No. I—I managed to lose them.” I couldn’t admit I’d killed two men. Deep in my soul, I clutched at tatters of hope. Maybe the wind had shifted, blowing the noxious tendrils of steam away. But even if my heart wanted to believe that, I knew the truth.
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  “We have to rescue her,” I said. “It’s all my fault.”

  Raav squeezed my elbows. “We all agreed on the plan.”

  “Rescue. Okay,” Gaff said. “We’ve got to find a way around the lava flow. Foilwood raft?”

  “Wait.” Raav’s chest vibrated when he spoke. “They’ve got ten times our people, and they’ll be waiting for our attempt. We need a better plan than rushing headlong into their camp. Anyone?”

  No one spoke. There was no good answer. Legs splayed to either side of me, Raav wrapped me close. He turned one of my arms palm up. “Look,” he whispered in my ear.

  Lines of starlight crisscrossed my skin. Every scratch and scrape had healed and shimmered in the night.

  “Oh,” I said.

  “Some had already closed when I wiped the blood away.”

  I swallowed, turning my hands to hide the glow. “We can’t abandon Heiklet. She went out there for the good of the group.”

  Gaff lowered down to a seat. “They may still have her at the beach. If we’re quick, we might catch them before they take her to the village. Did they look ready to move, Lilik?”

  The lagoon’s water rose a couple finger’s widths, gurgling when it filled pockets and cracks. Soon after, it drained back out. There must have been large waves washing the island. I made a quick count of the days we’d been on Ioene. Three or four weeks, maybe. There’d be a few more months before storm season. The waves now were likely just a fluke swell.

  “Lilik?” Raav squeezed me gently.

  Right—my fatigue was making my mind wander. Would they still have Heiklet on the beach? “I didn’t see a raft. There were hot coals in the shelter. I’d guess that Mieshk left a few men to watch the coast on this side of the flow. Could be quite a while before the raft comes back.”

  Gaff grunted. “Could be. How many men you think?”

  My mouth moved, but no words came out. However many there’d been, there were two less now.

  “I led two of them off,” I said. “Don’t know how many were guarding Heiklet. I couldn’t see her. Just heard her scream—” My voice cracked and died in my throat.

  I tried to stand. My legs quivered, then wobbled, then collapsed. Raav scooped me up like a child. “Lilik’s too weak to lead us back right now. We’ll plan while she’s resting.”

  He carried me to our room and laid me on a bunk, pulled a blanket over me.

  “Hey, Lilik?” he asked, grasping my hand gently. “I felt like you were holding something back. Is there anything else we should know?”

  I mouthed the words, too soft to hear.

  “Huh?”

  He leaned so close he nearly covered me.

  “I killed them. The two that chased me after the others grabbed Heiklet.”

  Raav’s whole body stiffened. His arms shook when he lowered his face and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Lilik. So sorry.”

  I stared at the ceiling. “I was only thinking about escape.”

  “Shh. It hurts, I know. We can talk about it later. And the others don’t have to know. It will be just you and me.”

  “Thank you.” Exhaustion flooded me, cold seawater filling my veins. A single tear leaked from the corner of my eye, and I turned to face the wall.

  Someone crept into the room while I rested—an earthenware plate clacked when set on the floor beside my bunk. I didn’t turn over.

  I drifted in and out of sleep, floating in guilt when awake, and when I slept, strange dreams needled me, visions of nightstrands tunneling into my flesh, chewing on my muscles, turning me a strange, glimmering white inside and out.

  The stone-carved bunk beneath me hummed against my scars, an almost-tickle that was neither annoying nor soothing. I imagined that, in time, I’d get used to it.

  Finally, when the crescent moon rose over the amphitheater’s rim, silver light pressing in through the room’s windows, I sat up and nibbled a nut cake.

  My heart felt shredded by shards of volcanic glass. I’d lost Paono, my best friend, because I was too afraid to share the truth with him. Next, I’d doomed Heiklet with my carelessness. I’d killed two men without stopping to question my actions. And to balance it all, what good had I done? I’d taught five people which foods they could eat, and in return, they were exiled from the rest of the expedition. Some recompense.

  I pulled a lamp down from the shelf and lit it. Silver flame flared, flecked with gold. When I knelt, cold stone pressed against my kneecaps.

  I’d never believed in the trader deities. I still didn’t. And no other imported religions had taken root in me either. Sometimes it seemed I was alone in my lack of belief. Many Kiriilti, farmers especially, built shrines to the spirits of fecundity worshiped in the Waikert jungles, even though the savages attacked our cities and burned our fields. Even the traders had superstitions beyond their ancestor-gods. They tossed offerings overboard when they sailed near the Stornisk maelstrom, casks of wine and crates of grain meant to appease the dark god who stirred the water into endless froth.

  Every once in a while, I’d joined my father at the beach, sitting cross-legged to ask for blessings from the creator spirits who pushed the islands from the deep. An old belief lost to most. My father learned it from his grandmother and kept the tradition to honor her. But for me, the ritual was nothing more than a chance to spend time with my father. To enjoy the sun rising above the sea mists, and to watch dolphins ride the gently folding surf.

  Now I wished more than ever that I’d found a god. I needed guidance. Comfort. Lacking religion, I prayed to the one thing that had filled my dreams since childhood.

  “Blessed Ioene,” I said. “Help me accept my actions. Help me atone. If I am ever to return home, help me bring comfort to the families of the men I killed. Help me understand the way forward.”

  The earth shook beneath me, and I dropped my palms to the floor for balance. A vibration like a song thrummed up my arms, swelling where my collarbones formed a hollow at the base of my neck.

  Following the song, the whispers rose to a roar. Indecipherable. A babble. Shh! One voice screamed, louder than the others. I jerked my hands from the floor, and the noise stopped.

  Keep trying. A single whisper blew through my mind like a breeze. Male, again. Maybe the same voice as the one I’d heard before the tunnel collapse. You are a channeler.

  I squeaked and then spoke tentatively. “Nightstrands?”

  The voice was gone. A shiver crawled my spine and fled out my fingers and toes.

  Once again, I set my hands on the floor. Yes! You don’t need that, but it helps.

  “Can you hear me?”

  Channelers don’t need to speak. We can hear your thoughts if you direct them properly. But yes, I can hear you.

  “What’s a channeler? Who are you?”

  So many questions. You, Lilik, are a channeler. A type of soul priestess. In raw power, as strong as the long-ago masters. We are the builders. The Vanished. I am our speaker.

  “Lilik?” Islilla poked her head in the door. “You’re awake. I thought I heard you.” She turned. “Raav! She’s up.”

  These things need time to explain, Lilik. Speak to your friends.

  I nodded dumbly. From outside, I heard scrapes and grunts. Raav shuffled in the door carrying a storage chest. He looked at my disheveled state and chuckled before setting down the trunk.

  “Sleep well?” he asked.

  “I . . .” I blinked. “I guess.”

  His eyes were warm. “Good. You deserve it. So . . .”

  My thoughts still echoed with the whispered words. I felt disconnected from myself as if watching the scene from afar.

  “Do we have a plan?” my distant self said.

  “Well, yes and no. While you were sleeping, Tkira hiked far enough to see the beach. It seems we have a problem. But at least Heiklet is still on our side of the lava.”

  “A problem?”

  Tkira ducked inside. “Mieshk is moving in. As far as I can tell, they’ve reloca
ted the whole camp onto your little beach. Bonfires. Crates of supplies. The whole deal.”

  “An invading army,” I said.

  Raav nodded. “Instead of building a seaworthy ship, Mieshk has a fleet of shore-huggers.”

  I looked back and forth between Raav and Tkira. “She traded away her chance to get home just to attack us?”

  Raav shrugged. “Seems so.”

  “We can’t stay here with her so close,” Tkira said. “Even if they never find the lagoon, foraging is too dangerous now. We need to discuss our options.”

  “Heiklet comes first, right?” I felt like butter in a churn, spun so quickly that I didn’t know which way was up.

  The nightstrands’ speaker had called me a soul priestess. Did he mean that the nightstrands were the souls of the civilization that lived here before? The Vanished? I shuddered, horrified. We’d been journeying here to create nightforged goods for five hundred years, calling the strands to us and infusing our creations with them. Had we been imprisoning these souls the whole time?

  “Yes, Heiklet first,” she answered.

  “Just give me a few minutes,” I said to Tkira. “There’s something I have to do. Something I have to learn.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  THE LAMP STILL sputtered, silver flame dancing on a wick that had grown too short. I twisted the little brass knob to pull more cotton from the oil reservoir, and the flame steadied. Tiny sparks of gold rose within it.

  I knelt and laid my palms on the floor. “We’ve been enslaving you.”

  Yes. But you didn’t know. You’re innocent.

  “I’m sorry.”

  We forgave your kind hundreds of years ago.

  “You’re the reason the nightforged weapons are so responsive. You give them awareness. I’ve heard that a nightforged sword seems to swing an instant before the wielder decides which way to cut.”

  And many other things. But the more you think about it, the more you’ll regret. None of you knew what we were, and we had no way to tell you. Our dead have always spoken through channelers—