Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set

by Carrie Summers

  Footfalls shook the small landing as the woman moved to the curtained window. “Message for you,” she said, holding an envelope up to the glass. I nudged the stained fabric of the drape aside and read the lettering.

  To: Lilik Boket, Prime Councilor, gutter district

  From: Olev Ulstat, Prime Trader, House Ulstat

  At the sight of his name, my lip twitched. “Not interested,” I said through the door.

  The woman’s shadow retreated from the window. “I think you will be.”

  A solid thunk shook the door, and I jumped back, hand falling on Tyrak’s hilt. Moments later, however, the woman left, her footfalls shaking the splintering staircase. In the silence that followed, Mother and I stared at one another.

  I shrugged and opened the door. The morning sun glinted off the nightforged blade of the boot knife the woman had used to pin the letter to the wood. Mother’s eyes widened at the gesture. Trader Ulstat clearly wanted to prove something by using a nightforged weapon where a simple hammer and bootnail would have worked to fasten paper to wood.

  After slipping the new nightforged blade into my satchel—I had an idea of what I might do with it—I read the message aloud to my mother.

  Councilor Boket,

  House Ulstat requests a meeting. A skiff will bring you to the Ulstat flagship. Arrive at the seaward aspect of the northern harbor guardstone at midday. After the discussion, you will be returned to shore, your safety guaranteed by trader honor.

  Signed,

  Olev Ulstat

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  IN FOUNTAIN SQUARE, I thought I’d saved the gutter district from any more damage by stopping the fighting. I was wrong.

  I learned the news as soon as I descended the staircase and looked around. Even though the brawl in fountain square was largest of the fights, nowhere in the slums had escaped damage. If anything, the spots where House guardsmen had tried to intimidate handfuls of gutterborn had fared worse. Belongings were strewn in the streets, yanked from homes by Council guards. In a few places, the traders’ fighters had tried to light fires. Thankfully, the gutterborn had managed to chase them off and smother the flames.

  But the devastation didn’t hurt nearly as much as the news one of Jet’s runners brought from the barracks strip. There, the wardens had endured half a dozen different clashes with the mercenaries. Two men had died. For me.

  Mother followed me as I walked slowly through the slums, bound for the strip. The search for a new place to stay could wait.

  On an alley near Nan’s cottage, broken glass glittered on the cobbles, like stars fallen in the night. Two doors out of the half-dozen opening onto the narrow street had been broken down, hinges ripped from the walls. Inside, families sat around breakfast tables. When I caught a mother’s eye, I expected blame, anger. Instead I saw determination.

  “We’re no worse off than when the collectors come,” she called out the door. “Doors can be mended.”

  I tried to take heart from her encouragement, but the sight of her young son crawling on a floor where House guards had stomped booted feet and threatened innocent people with nightforged weapons wouldn’t leave my mind. I’d started this battle. If we didn’t win, the blame for the gutter downfall would be mine alone.

  “What are you going to do about the Ulstat meeting?” Mother asked quietly.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to lose the opportunity to talk with them. It’s important to know your enemy.”

  But you’d be an idiot to let them take you aboard one of their ships, Tyrak said.

  I cleared my throat. “But I’d be an idiot to get in their boat.”

  Sounds like something I’d say.

  “You’re doing it again, right?” Mother asked. “I feel like I was so close to hearing this time.”

  Hello, Lilik’s mother!

  “Her name’s Maajidi.” I squeezed the dagger hilt.

  “Do you think it’s possible?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “We’re . . . family. The affinity probably extends to you.”

  Family. Even though I’d forgiven her—mostly, anyway—for abandoning us, I still found the word hard to say. She might be my mother, but I just couldn’t put her in the same category as Da and Jaret. I suspected it would probably always be that way. But seeing the way her face lit when I called her my family, I hoped I could manage to love her someday. At least a little. No matter what wrongs she’d done before, she was doing her utmost to make up for them.

  We turned the corner onto the street that ran closest to Nan’s, and I sighed in relief. Her cottage was unharmed, the door securely closed, drapes drawn over unbroken windows. A small curl of smoke drifted from the chimney. Ordinarily, I would stop to check on her. But not until I finished delivering my condolences.

  “Do you know the way?” Mother asked.

  “Jet said a man will meet me at the edge of the strip.”

  I thought about what Jet’s messenger had told me regarding the lost wardens. They’d been trapped in a scuffle against both mercenaries and House guards. One had died on the street, and the other had succumbed overnight despite the healers’ attempts to save him. Both men had been husbands. One left two children behind.

  Mother’s face was somber, her voice low. “The collectors kill more people than anyone admits. They go too far trying to extract the tax. When someone is reported as missing, we all know what really happened.”

  I shook my head. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but it doesn’t change anything. If not for me, Aronek Kanit and Bur Troanevi would have woken up alive this morning. Maybe the tax collectors would have killed them another day, another year. But last night was on me. I can’t make it better, but I can take responsibility.”

  She sighed. “I shouldn’t try to make you feel better with empty reassurances. It’s hard for a mother to see her child hurting. But I’m proud of you, Lilik. So proud.”

  As am I. You are . . . Well, you know how I feel, Tyrak said.

  I nodded. I knew what both of them felt about me. And down inside, even if I had moments of doubt, I believed I could live up to their respect. But that didn’t change the task that lay ahead. Jaw clenched, I put one foot in front of the other.

  At the street marking the edge of the strip, I spotted one of Jet’s men two corners down. He noticed me and came at a brisk walk.

  “Councilor.” He seemed unsure whether to bow, salute, or simply shake hands.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” I said. “Which one is first?”

  “Aronek Kanit’s wife. She’s close.”

  The warden turned on his heels and led off into the barracks strip. After a few hundred paces, he headed up a dark stairwell and knocked at the door for a second-story room.

  The dead man’s wife answered, face tear-streaked. When she spotted me, she slammed the door.

  Guilt slapped me like a breaking wave. I’d at least hoped for the chance to tell her how much her husband’s bravery meant to everyone. But I wasn’t the bereaved one here. I closed my eyes while I controlled my emotions, remembering how I’d felt on Ioene when Peldin spoke to me after Heiklet’s death. How much angrier would I have felt if she’d been my sister rather than a close friend?

  I dropped my walls, reaching for the dead man’s spirit. Hello? Arokek? Only silence answered my thought. Maybe I could try again later, after his wife had a chance to grieve in peace. Swinging my backpack off a shoulder, I pulled out the first of two packets of coins I’d quickly bundled and left it in front of her door.

  “I’m deeply sorry,” I called through the door. The money wouldn’t bring back her husband, but it would make things easier for a while.

  Swallowing, I turned to the warden. “And the other?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to deliver your regrets to the family? It might be easier.”

  “It’s not about easy,” I said. “They need to know the sacrifices mean something.”

  You sure that’s the whole explanation? Tyrak asked. You
aren’t just punishing yourself as a way to get rid of your guilt? Because it doesn’t work that way.

  I considered his words. Though he hadn’t accused me outright, the hidden meaning was there. Was I martyring myself, thinking that could absolve me for decisions that ended in the men’s deaths?

  No, I said. I need to do this because I’m their leader. I don’t expect thanks or forgiveness, but I hope someday the families will look back and realize their loved ones died for something worthwhile. For someone who understood the sacrifices she was asking for.

  As we descended the stairs, Tyrak slipped from the dagger and surrounded me, briefly, with the sense of his body. Warm and steady, he walked within and around me, before retreating to the bounds of the dagger.

  I’m here for you, he said.

  Outside, the alley was quiet. Unlike the other parts of the slums where the damage was limited to homes and possessions, the barracks strip had lost people. I felt eyes on me while I followed the warden deeper into the neighborhood but kept my spine straight. Things would probably get much worse before they got better.

  “Is Jet down here?” I asked. While we were moving through the streets, I’d come up with an idea for responding to the Ulstats. The proposed time for me to meet with them was fast approaching—the sun would reach its high point within a couple hours. I couldn’t allow them to take me hostage, but I could still keep a dialog open.

  “He hasn’t left the post since last night. We are hoping he’ll accept relief soon. Maybe you can convince him.”

  I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  The children of the second man who’d died for my cause were playing on the front stoop. By the look of them, the family hadn’t had much to eat over the last few years. The older, a girl, carried herself like someone who was six or seven, but she was the size of a four-year-old. Her younger brother had arms no bigger around than Tyrak’s hilt. Playing some sort of game with a rag and a handful of stones, the children scarcely looked up at me when I climbed the step.

  They don’t know yet, Tyrak said. I’m almost certain of it.

  His theory made sense. The children would learn what had happened to their father, but it wouldn’t be an easy conversation. Beside the door, a window was shuttered against the morning. Unlike some areas of the slums, few of the buildings in the strip had glassed windows. Shutters kept out the weather, and unfortunately, the light.

  As I tapped lightly on the door, the shutter cracked. A pale face showed in the gap. Moments later, the shutter closed. No one came to the door.

  “Mum’s tired this morning,” the girl said. “She doesn’t want us to bother her.”

  Swallowing, I crouched down in front of the girl. “What’s your name?”

  “Eshali.” She picked up the rag and dropped it over another rock. “These rocks are people. This one is hiding from the soldiers,” she explained. “But the others are brave.”

  “They’re all brave,” I said. “Just like you. Would you do me a favor, Eshali? Can you tiptoe inside and put this somewhere your mum will find it when she’s feeling better? You’ll be much quieter than me.” I pulled the other coin packet free and set it at the little girl’s feet.

  “Okay, after this game. Towsil!” she screeched, snatching a rock from her brother, who’d plucked it from the playing area and was preparing to throw it across the alley. “That’s Mister Fells!”

  “I’d be really grateful if you’d take that in soon,” I said, lowering my voice to a whisper. “It’s an important mission.”

  Her eyes brightened as she sprang up to head inside. “Like Da does. He protects us.”

  As hard as I tried to remain strong, I couldn’t pretend any longer. Looking at the little girl who’d just lost her da for me, I felt the abrupt urge to be sick. “Yes, like your da,” I said, my voice cracking.

  It’s okay, Lilik. You did well.

  With a nod to Mother—she understood; her eyes were full of tears—I hurried away from the scene. At the next cross street, I turned hard away from the sight of the children and finally staggered to a wall. My breath came in quick, stabbing inhalations. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I said.

  Her arms wrapped me, awkward but warm all the same. “Shh. You can. You will.”

  Having followed at a respectful distance, the warden waited silently while I collected myself. By the time I looked at him, a shell of ice encased my heart. It would protect me for a little while, but one wrong move and it would shatter.

  “I’m ready to see Jet,” I said.

  With a quick bow, the man set off in the lead. The chief warden of the strip wasn’t far; we crossed no more than half a dozen streets before reaching his post. Until recently, I hadn’t realized how small the neighborhood actually was. Most likely, everyone here knew the men who’d been killed.

  “You need to let someone else take over for a few hours,” I said as soon as I was in earshot.

  Jet’s face was set in hard lines. “I couldn’t walk away until I knew things would be quiet this morning.”

  “I don’t want to have to order you.”

  The big man smirked. “From anyone else half my height, I wouldn’t consider anything they said an order.”

  “But since I’m the one who’s asking . . .”

  “Unfortunately, I’m not sure who to get to stand in my place,” Jet hedged.

  “I got it, Chief,” our escort quickly volunteered. “Slept from midnight until dawn.”

  “I see I’m thoroughly outnumbered,” Jet said with a sigh. “Only the most bullheaded commander ignores the advice of his people.” He looked at me. “And his leader.”

  Stiffly, he heaved himself from the stool. When he stretched, his back cracked loud enough to hear from five paces away.

  “I’ll walk with you,” I said.

  His brows raised. “You want to make sure I don’t sneak back to my post?”

  I shrugged. “And I need your help with something.”

  “All right, Councilor, it’s a deal.”

  I hadn’t thought to ask where Jet lived, but I’d assumed it was somewhere within the strip. When he led Mother and I across the street which marked the unofficial boundary of the neighborhood, I paused, confused.

  He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I figured you’d peg me for a strip resident.”

  “Only because I found you defending the area.”

  “Someone had to step in. I had a selfish interest too. If the soldiers had free reign over the strip, what would stop them from roving farther uphill?”

  “Good point.”

  “Lilik, about this coming evening,” Jet said. “I sent word through the slums asking people to abide by the curfew. We need more time to prepare defenses before we provoke the Council again.”

  “You think they’ll listen?”

  He turned and cast me a grin. “Of course. I told them Councilor Boket had ordered it.”

  I couldn’t help the little ember of pride that flared when he said it. I’d given him permission to put my name on any decisions he made regarding the warden, but I didn’t think he’d find my approval so important that he’d use it to add weight to his commands.

  After another few minutes’ walk, we arrived at a door, iron-bound with hinges that wouldn’t give nearly as easily as the kicked-in doors near Nan’s home. Scanning the front of the building, I noticed sliding panes in the windows rather than the standard fixed framing—on hot days, they could be opened to let the breeze through. A small, potted plant stood beside the door.

  Jet pulled a key from his pocket and shoved it into the lock. Another sign that he had more resources than most gutterborn. I wondered about his history.

  He satisfied my curiosity as he twisted the doorknob. “My father was a soldier,” he said. “Hired from a filthy port city on the west coast of Reknarish when he was twenty. In addition to his fee for fighting the traders’ wars, he made plenty gambling in the holds of their warships.”

  “Reknarish. I’ve ne
ver met anyone from that far away.” I’d only heard rumors of the place, a continent so big it took months to sail just one coast.

  “You look Kiriilti, though,” Mother said.

  “My mother was. Da gave up fighting when they got married. He taught me about war because he thought I should know how to protect myself. And the family he hoped I’d have one day. That part hasn’t been easy to come by, of course.”

  “You aren’t married?” I said.

  He shrugged. “The right woman hasn’t decided to give me a chance yet.”

  I glanced at the single red bud on the plant beside the door. So the flower pot was his? Jet was full of surprises. As for the soldier father, at least I knew where he’d learned tactics. When he fought the mercenaries, did that mean he was battling his father’s friends? Their sons?

  “Are your parents alive?” I asked.

  Jet shook his head, his expression abruptly sober. “Waikert,” he said simply. Nudging the door opened, he gestured for us to go in first.

  “I shouldn’t,” I said, glancing at the sun. “Not much time. But that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I got a message from the Ulstats. They asked me to meet them aboard their flagship. I plan to refuse, but I’d like to suggest an alternative.”

  At the mention of House Ulstat, Jet’s face had darkened. He cast a suspicious glance toward the harbor area. “You’re best off avoiding them clean,” he said.

  “I’m not so sure. I’m thinking we meet on neutral ground. I’ll demand they send an actual Ulstat. Each of us will be allowed a single adviser plus five armed guards who will stand off at twenty paces.”

  Jet balled his hands into fists. “Absolutely not!”

  “We can’t give up the chance to get information.”

  “Then send me, Lilik. You can’t expose yourself.”

  I shook my head. “You have to lead the fighters—they’re lost without you. I’m nothing but a figurehead when it comes to taking back our homes and city.”