Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set

by Carrie Summers

  “I guess I could look deeper . . .”

  Raav paddled over next to me. “I’ll help you if you get overwhelmed,” he whispered.

  By that, I wondered if he meant he’d kiss me again. I assumed not with everyone watching. Still, I wouldn’t mind too much if he did.

  I opened the sea gates wide to let Zyri fill my thoughts. For a long time after the girl’s death, none of the souls understood how to exist in their new forms because no channelers guided them. Zyri had swirled on the currents of aether surrounding Ioene, brushing up against the other spirits and their memories, reaching for a purpose.

  And then, the first Nocturnai had come. There were no channelers, but among the newcomers were a few whose blood pulsed with familiarity. Descendants. As gifted as Mavek’s Hands had been. When they called, the strands came, only to realize the horror of being forced into artifacts for which they had no affinity.

  “The nightcallers are distant descendants of the Vanished, of the type of priestesses gifted with compulsion,” I said aloud. “The survivors must have landed in the Kiriilt Islands when they fled the cataclysm. I wonder why there’s no record of them.”

  “And I wonder when they’re going to tell us how to get home.” Tkira sneered when she spoke.

  “Wait . . .” I trailed off, thinking.

  The cool water had chilled my muscles, making my legs stiff and wooden. I kicked harder to get my heart pumping while I tried to fit the puzzle pieces together. The others fell behind.

  The ancestor-gods. Mieshk was using the old superstition to cement her authority. Maybe the trader custom of deifying their ancestors from the Vanished who escaped the cataclysm. Many of Mavek’s Hands had been exiled just before the eruptions. Maybe that coven had fled south, giving rise to the trader lines and their nightcalling talent. I thought of my mother, born and raised in the Outer Isles where tiny fishing villages and artists’ colonies clung to hard rock. Perhaps another line of ancestry—and the channeling talent—ran through the Outer Isles and dipped roots into the more settled Kiriilti Islands as well.

  That insight explained much, but it wasn’t helping us form the plan. I delved back into Zyri’s life, trawling for ideas. She remembered a city on the mountain’s opposite side. A harbor the size of Istanik’s.

  Yes! I could follow Zyri’s memories to the city. There’d be construction materials. Shelter. No need to delve into the island’s heart in hopes of blindly stumbling upon another haven.

  I let her recollections of the city blossom in my mind. Built on the steep walls of a massive harbor, tier upon tier of buildings stretched up to the bowl’s rim. Connecting the harbor to the ocean, a deep channel cut between vertical walls. Carvings decorated the cliffs, scenes of everyday life. Beyond the channel, sails pulled boats on the trade winds, waves breaking against their bows. Another memory flashed, of Zyri’s ship fleeing through that breach in the cliffs while boulders rained from above. The landslide had blocked the entrance, sealing off the harbor and hiding the city from sight. But . . . wait . . . before the final stones had fallen, Zyri had looked back.

  “There were still boats at the docks,” I said. “Speaker! Are they still . . .?”

  I recalled the wood that hadn’t decayed even after a thousand years. It was almost too much to hope for. I held my breath.

  You speak of Ashkalan, don’t you? Our city. I don’t know, Lilik. We don’t perceive the mundane world as you do. We’d hoped to lead you there. But we spoke already about the choices you must make. And your first was to rescue your friend.

  The sounds of huffed breath and light splashes filled the air. The others had caught up while I’d stopped to speak to the speaker.

  “I don’t want to get our hopes up,” I said. “But there was a place. A city. Huge. Zyri remembers boats! I mean—-it would be a miracle. So much has changed here since her ship sank—”

  I shook my head. It was wrong to recount the girl’s death to the others. Just reliving it through the memories felt like I was violating her last moments of life. Disrespecting her death.

  “I’m sorry you died, Zyri.” Islilla swam up and stared into my eyes as if she could see the other girl within.

  I smiled at her kindness, deciding not to tell her I didn’t think Zyri could hear.

  “Look.” Raav pointed along the coast where a jut of land hid the remaining shoreline. A faint glow haloed the mountain’s rising flank. “Their fires.”

  Gaff spun to face us. “All right, kids. Essential information only from now on and keep your voices low. Chances are they won’t hear anything over the hiss of steam and their fires.”

  “So we’re going ahead with this plan?” Tkira asked. “Lilik goes ashore and tries to get her friend to set the diversion. Meanwhile, we try to forget that she’s the only thing keeping Mieshk from destroying the island.”

  Gaff shifted one of his floats. “We agreed we’d use all our advantages.”

  Tkira rolled her eyes. “Just making sure.”

  “You have anything to add, speaker?” I asked. I’d hoped Zyri’s memories would give me an idea for the rescue, especially after I insisted on coming. Failing that, maybe the other Vanished would help.

  Did I mention I’m not sure you’re sane?

  “I believe so.”

  We’re doing what we can to reach Paono. If we break his mental barriers, you’ll be the first—actually, Paono will be the first to know. Followed by the entire Vanished civilization. Then you.

  “Thanks.”

  Silently, we swam wide around the point. I couldn’t help but stare. Mieshk’s people had ten bonfires strung up and down the beach. In the middle, the largest fire I’d seen blazed atop a platform of stacked stones. Supplies were stacked near it. Lumps on the beach gravel appeared to be people sleeping, while others milled around the fire, tossing on sticks.

  As for Mieshk, there was no mistaking her scarecrow figure and stick-straight gait, even at a distance. She strode up and down the beach, imperious. I suspected she still had that stupid rod clutched across her chest.

  Their boats—shallow draft vessels as much low-railed rafts than anything—had been pulled up halfway onto the beach. Once the boats shielded us from sight, we swam toward shore using the vessels as cover. Raav left his floats and the small rucksack of supplies with Gaff and slipped between two of the boats, touching down in the shallows.

  Slowly, he stood higher and peered up and down the shore. After a few minutes, he returned to the group.

  “They have Heiklet down near the lava end of the beach. She’s—” He cleared his throat, a pained expression on his face. “It looks like they’ve fashioned a whip.”

  I swallowed a sour taste. “I’ll go now.”

  “Wait,” Gaff hissed. “Don’t forget that if things go wrong, you just run. Don’t try to salvage the situation. We’ll regroup back at the sanctuary.”

  I nodded.

  “But Lilik,” he said. “Don’t let anything go wrong.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  CROUCHED BENEATH a rock overhang near the freshwater spring, I winced as stone crystals chewed into my back. My thighs cramped from the sprint across the beach. I’d come ashore amid steam from the lava flow, running—I hoped—like a shadow through the fog. But each footfall in the gravel had sounded like the roar of a landslide. Each movement had been the hulking gait of a wounded yak. My heart crammed into my throat, beating erratically. I couldn’t swallow. At any moment, Mieshk’s lieutenants would burst from the thicket and skewer me with their fishing spears.

  But none came, not yet, and while the moon rose from the sea, I waited. Moonlight spilled across the land, deepening shadows and glinting off stone and water. Finally, I let myself believe I’d made it without detection.

  I’d spotted Paono before wading ashore. He worked at the camp’s fringe, sorting crates and bundles and toting buckets to a stash at the edge of the beach. When I saw him pick up two buckets, disappear into the foliage near the spring, and return with hi
s load sloshing, I knew where I’d attempt to make contact. Unfortunately, he’d been called off to another task just as I crept ashore. I assumed he’d resume filling the buckets afterward, but if he didn’t show in an hour, I’d advance on the beach and figure out another way to get his attention.

  I shivered when the cool breeze licked my wet skin, but I worried more for the others. The longer I remained ashore, the greater the chances that one of them would be noticed. Cold and slow from their prolonged time in the water, they’d be easy to catch.

  Sticks cracked, and I heard voices. My heart fluttered—I’d expected Paono to come alone. Now that the moon had risen, the overhang wouldn’t hide me from more than a casual glance. Panicked, I retreated to the brush on the far side of the clearing. My breath rasped in and out while I panted and threaded backward through tunnels in the thicket.

  When they clambered up onto the rocky shelf, I froze. My view filtered by the brush, it was hard to pick out features, but Paono’s silhouette was unmistakable. He stood with the particular ease I’d always envied.

  In the few short weeks we’d been apart, Paono had broadened through the shoulders while his jawline hardened. Soft curls of hair had grown over his eyebrows. In that moment, I missed him more than I missed the sunlight. Thoughts of Tyrak brushed my mind. He used to weave kivi flowers into silly necklaces for Zyri. She loved the perfume that drifted up and ringed her head.

  Paono’s companion giggled. Katrikki fell into him and set her hands on his chest. They staggered forward, wrapped around each other. He laid a hand on her hip.

  Next to the spring water pool, Katrikki planted her feet. She tilted her face up, waiting for a kiss that didn’t come.

  “What’s that?” Paono was looking right at me. “Fireflies?”

  Oh, rot. I’d been so shocked and revolted by the scene I hadn’t remembered to close my hands to block the glow. I pressed deeper into the brush, clamping my palms against my thighs.

  “I think there’s someone here,” Paono said, advancing.

  He wasn’t going to leave without investigating. I could run, but given my lack of a head start, he’d catch me.

  “Hi.” I stood from the bushes, knowing how stupid I looked with sticks shoved through my hair and my sodden shirt clinging.

  Katrikki lips pulled back from razor-straight teeth. “It’s Lilik! What a nice surprise.” She scurried forward and snatched Paono’s hand.

  Instantly tense, Paono tried to turn and check whether they’d been followed, but Katrikki’s weight on his arm anchored him.

  “What are you doing here? Mieshk will kill you!” he hissed.

  For a moment, I saw my old friend in his eyes. I saw home, the spires of Istanik against the deep blue sky, flocks of birds wheeling around their roosts. A meat pie floated in my mind, flaky crust studded with raisins. Inside, gravy steamed, thick with cream. Paono and I always split one when he brought home extra coin from the crabbing.

  “I . . .” My jaw locked up and my eyes stung.

  Paono stomped across the rocky shelf, dragging Katrikki behind him. He crashed through the brush and grabbed my wrist in his free hand. With both of us in tow, he shoved deeper into the thicket, stopping only when there was an opening large enough for all of us to sit. Katrikki grimaced when he pulled her down.

  He released my wrist but kept Katrikki’s fingers entwined with his.

  I didn’t know what to say. The last time we spoke, he’d told me to stay away from him. He’d been so angry that he’d abandoned me in the middle of a volcanic eruption.

  My best friend had changed. The gentleness in his eyes was gone. Corded muscles stood out on his forearms. He had a trader clinging to him.

  I wanted to cry.

  “I heard that you called me a traitor.” My voice sounded like a whiny little girl.

  Paono glanced sideways at his new girlfriend. “Lilik, why did you come?”

  “Why do you think? For Heiklet. I wouldn’t abandon someone that’s loyal to me.” My unshed tears burned in my eyes. Yes, I’d made a mistake. I should have told him about the figurine earlier. But when I had told him the truth, he’d left me because of it.

  I glared, daring him to argue about loyalty.

  “You really want to go into this now?” he said. “Because we could have a long talk about fault and blame.” His face was made of hard lines, chipped from stone.

  “Fine. No.” I spat the words. “I came to rescue Heiklet. That’s all.”

  “Well, honorable or not, it was a stupid idea. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Yeah, so? What do you care if I get hurt? You hate me, right?”

  His nostrils flared when he sighed. “Lilik, someone had to stay behind to protect you. I couldn’t do it if Mieshk didn’t trust me. I’m sorry I called you a traitor, but I assumed you would understand. I assumed you would also realize that someone on the inside would set Heiklet free. It’s just taking more time than I’d hoped.”

  “I—”

  “I’m still not sorry for leaving you under that boulder, though. You have a long way to go to earn my forgiveness.”

  “I already said I was sorry.” It was a pathetic defense considering what he’d just told me.

  “Okay. You’re sorry.” He glanced back toward the encampment, maybe checking the approach to the thicket. Maybe dismissing my words as useless.

  I wished I could show Paono my heart. Hand over my soul and let him search it through and through. Because I regretted everything, and the guilt was a black stain I couldn’t wipe away, but nothing would take back my mistake. All I could do now was try to be better, to fix this.

  “I mean it,” I whispered.

  Katrikki leaned against his shoulder and tucked her long hair behind her ear. “And now you’re here for Heiklet. So what’s your great plan?”

  I stared at her, expecting Paono to tell her to butt out. This conversation was between me and him. But he said nothing, simply raised his eyebrows.

  “Why do you want to know?” My words sounded petulant, but I couldn’t help it. “So you can run off and tell Mieshk?”

  Paono’s upper lip curled. “That’s unfair, Lilik. Apologize, or we leave now. I’ll guard the approach to the spring long enough for you to get away.”

  I waited for him to say something else, something that showed he hadn’t actually chosen her over me. Fistfuls of leaves crunched in my hands.

  “You have no idea what Katrikki is thinking,” he said. “No right to assume that she’s allied with Mieshk.”

  “Except that both of you are part of Mieshk’s army,” I said.

  “We didn’t have a choice. None of your new friends invited us when they stole the raft.”

  My jaw muscles hurt from clenching my teeth. With no answer for the accusation, I just glared.

  “Apologize, Lilik. I know you’re stubborn, but I won’t let you mistreat her.” He wrapped an arm around Katrikki’s shoulders.

  I wrapped my arms over my chest to hide the sight of my breaking heart. “Fine. Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” Paono said. “Katrikki? You okay?”

  The trader nodded. I felt humiliated.

  It was all I could do to keep from sneering when I spoke. “If either of you betrays me, you’ll hurt my friends, too. It may not be polite or kind or fair, but I have a duty to protect them and choose carefully who I trust. It’s not personal.” Except it was. Nothing could make me like Katrikki Korpit.

  “Take the chance, Lilik,” Paono said. “Think about all our years together. Would I be with someone who was following Mieshk?”

  He was with her. Somehow, hearing him say it hurt more than watching them show it. I felt as if a gray curtain had finally fallen on our friendship. The inside of my chest was a sodden landscape, ruined, as if floodwaters had just retreated and left a jumbled, wet mess behind. All that remained was my duty.

  And my duty was to save the friends I had left.

  “If you trust her, I’ll try. So. You’ll help us?�
�

  Paono and Katrikki shared a glance.

  He nodded at me. “Like I said, you should have let us free her. We’ll help if it means you get out of here sooner. The voices say you’re the one to lead the Nocturnai off this island, so as far as I’m concerned, the only thing that matters is keeping you safe.”

  I dropped the twig I’d been fiddling with. “You hear them? They told me they haven’t been able to break through to you.”

  He can hear us! Why didn’t the fool say anything?

  “Since around the time you ran away,” Paono said. “They’ve been yelling at me, and I don’t know how to make them stop.”

  “Did you try talking back?” I asked.

  “What voices?” Katrikki looked nervous, but she kept her white-knuckled grip on his hand.

  “I’ll tell you later.” He laid his free hand against her cheek before returning his attention to me. “You mean, just talk? Like I have imaginary friends? Have you considered how stupid I’d look?”

  I snapped another twig off the brush behind me. “Just try it,” I said.

  He ignored my suggestion. “The voices say that while you go to the city, I have to get your statue away from Mieshk.”

  What? No. Paono wasn’t made for that sort of thing. He was a hard worker. Dependable. A crab pot hoister, not some hero.

  I spoke to the air. “Leave him out of it, speaker.”

  “Huh?” Katrikki said.

  “Just having a conversation with my imaginary friend,” I said evenly.

  You have your duties and choices. Paono has his. And so far, he’s proved he’ll do what’s best for the greater good, while you’ve come back here for a single girl.

  “But—”

  Don’t deny it.

  I pressed my lips together. The Vanished would not make me feel guilty or foolish for refusing to leave Heiklet with Mieshk.

  The speaker’s voice was gentler when he spoke again. I’m sorry, Lilik. I would have made the same choice when I was alive. It is difficult for us—you’ve endured the pain we feel when we must sacrifice one of our numbers to balance the souls that Mieshk feeds to Ioene. We’ve become hardened to the notion that individuals must be lost to save the whole.