Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set

by Carrie Summers

  A peculiar emotion crossed her face—respect?—before her mask returned. “Fair enough. I’ll gather help. Now mind explaining exactly what’s gone wrong with our sky?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “WE’RE READY, BOSS,” Daonok said. Behind him stood a woman with a careworn face. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun, and she carried a satchel stuck through with dozens of fishing lures. Her hand rested on a little boy’s shoulder. Both of the newcomers were wide-eyed after the disappearance of the sun, but their faces held determination, too.

  “You’re from the village of Warlin on the southern coast,” Daonok said to Da. “Just a small cluster of shacks, but it’s the only home you’ve known. Brill here and your younger son came to fetch you back. You and this lad . . .” He gestured at Jaret. “. . . Have been shirking your duties for far too long, hoping to strike it rich in the mines. Your village needs you, what with the strange waves hitting the shore. They need a man with expertise in longline fishing, someone who can read the currents and aim the casts to pull something in while the boats are beached. Otherwise, the whole lot of you will starve.”

  “Got it,” Da said. “Anyway, you’re right. The mines weren’t what I hoped. And look what it’s done to my boy . . . Arm finally healing after a section of the tunnel caved in and smashed it. Plus he’s recovering from a sickness of the lungs earned in the stagnant air.”

  Daonok gave him an approving smile. “If you’re ever interested in a trade that’s less honorable than egg-peddling . . . You have a knack for tall tales—we could teach you how to use that for more lucrative purposes.”

  Though he could scarcely sit up, Jaret’s eyes widened in excitement. I nudged him in the shoulder, careful not to overcome his feeble strength. “Don’t get any ideas,” I said.

  Da turned to me. “I won’t ask you to give this up. My heart breaks to let my little girl risk herself this way, but I know you think there’s no choice.”

  “There isn’t a choice, Da. Look outside. It’s happening. I’d give anything to go back to Istanik with you and sell eggs for the rest of my life. Well, actually . . . Maybe not.”

  He chuckled. “I know what you mean. I wish none of this had ever happened, though I wouldn’t take the Nocturnai from you. You saw the chance to make something of yourself, and you took it.”

  I curled my toes. Those first days after the nightcaller trial had been hard. I’d been terrified my secret would come out. But now, the days when being punished for lying—even if it meant my execution—seemed almost idyllic. With darkness choking the Kiriilt Islands and storms battering our shores, with the extinction of our civilization looming, I would’ve given anything to go back to the beginning. Maybe I could’ve done something different. Maybe I could’ve stopped this.

  But I had to keep fighting. I couldn’t wallow in my regrets. I nodded and met my father’s eyes. Da clapped his hands on my shoulders then pulled me into a hug. I leaned my face against his shoulder and closed my eyes to keep the tears from coming.

  “Tell me you’ll survive this, Lilik. Give me that hope.” His low voice rumbled in his chest.

  “I . . .” My throat shut down around the words. I’d started this whole ordeal as a fraud. If I didn’t make it back to Istanik, I didn’t want my last moments with my family to be another lie. Another falsehood. I swallowed and began again, “Da, I can’t promise anything. But I swear to you that I will fight my hardest to get back to you. Or to bring you to me, in Ashkalan. You’ll love it there.”

  A silent sob wracked his body, but Da choked the rest back. Gripping my shoulders again, he held me at arm’s length. “I love you, little bird.”

  I smiled, my lower lip trembling. “Love you too, Da.”

  Jaret tried to stand, but his knees buckled. I waved a hand to keep him from trying again and sat beside him on the cot. He was at an age where it had to be embarrassing to hug his sister, but he did it anyway. “You keep Da safe, okay?” I said.

  “No one will mess with him with me blocking the way,” he said with a faint smile.

  “That’s my brother.”

  “And Lilik, whatever you do,” he said. “Don’t be an idiot about it.”

  I smiled at him and ran my knuckles over his scalp. “Don’t you know I’m incapable of idiocy?” I asked.

  “Yeah, right.” He smirked.

  Daonok had an ear pressed to the wall. “We best go. We’ll want to reach the edge of town before real panic sets in.”

  With a grunt, Da picked Jaret up from the cot. Outside, a mule waited, pulling a small wagon for Jaret and the other boy to ride in. According to Daonok, they were fisherfolk from a southern village. The family’s father had been lost at sea the year before, and the woman had been supplementing her fishing by providing a safe stopover for the traveling smugglers, as well as a shed for stashing goods. She’d been in the city to purchase necessities, and had made contact with the thieves moments before the darkness struck. My father’s strong arms would be extra protection for the return trip across the night-locked island.

  “I need you back quickly,” Caffari said as Daonok opened the door for my da and brother and their pretend family.

  “Got it, boss,” Daonok said.

  As the door swung shut, I wanted to run to it. I wanted one last chance to hug my family. Caffari must have noticed my legs tense. She laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “They’ll be safe in the south. I am certain of it. But you have to let them go before things get more dangerous here.”

  Outside, the sky was the color of a ripe plum, black with just a hint of purple. Inside the safe house, fifteen of Caffari’s smugglers crowded the small space, leaving just a few paces for Caffari to circle, fiddling with one of her throwing knives.

  The thieves smelled faintly of sweat, but more strongly of the lamp black that darkened their faces. They wore soft-soled boots and clothing of supple leather in black and gray. Crossbows were slung in holsters, quivers of bolts across backs. Daggers hung in sheaths. Occasionally, someone drew their blade. The metal had been darkened to hide glints, but the sharp edges still shone in the flickering light from the lanterns.

  Caffari noticed me inspecting her men and women. “We weren’t prepared for the last attack, and time was short. But we’re professionals. Few can match us in this sort of operation.”

  I nodded. As long as they could do more than sneak around in the dark. Success tonight would take as much boldness and daring as stealth.

  The door opened without warning, and steel hissed as every smuggler in the room drew their weapon. A slight woman with hair cut above her ears entered the room.

  “Always knock,” Daonok said. Caffari’s right-hand man sat on a crate near the door that opened into the main boarding house. He rolled a pair of brass knuckles back and forth across his palm.

  The newcomer nodded, blushing, before turning her gaze to Caffari. “Sorry, boss. Update from the square.”

  I stiffened. Had they already strung the nooses? Dragged the prisoners up onto the platform? My hands made fists—I shouldn’t have waited. I should have gone in alone if I’d had to.

  “Go ahead,” Caffari said.

  “Unchanged. Ten guards on the prisoners, plus six archers watching from windows around the square. The boy fell asleep, poor little rat. One of the guards woke him by spanking him with the flat of his blade. Laughed at the little fellow.”

  At least they weren’t dead. But at the thought of the guard tormenting Skink, I gritted my teeth. I’d thought I’d never reach the point where I considered killing someone lightly. But in my imagination, I drew Tyrak across the man’s throat.

  The Ulstats are making me into a monster, Tyrak. First I tried to kill Trader Ulstat in his sleep, and now the most terrible thought crossed my mind . . .

  Go easy on yourself, he said. You don’t know what I just thought of doing. My guess is it’s much crueler than your idea.

  “Anything else?” Caffari asked.

  “There’s rumors of
a mob forming in the northern miners’ camp, but I can’t confirm it. No one knows if and what the miners are demanding. More worrisome . . . there’s word the Ulstat guards have wheeled some of the land-bound cannons away from the harbor defenses and closer to town. City guardsmen are worried the Ulstats expect an attack. But the defense garrison has received no warning.”

  Caffari nodded, face grim. “We’ll keep an eye on those situations. But for now, we proceed as planned. You may go. Tell the men already in place that we move within the hour.”

  As the woman stepped toward the outer door, the entrance to the boarding house swung open with a squeal. Once again, every rogue in the room grabbed for their weapon. The boarding house proprietor, a wiry bald man, stepped out with his hands raised.

  “Always knock!” Daonok rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t anyone listen?”

  The proprietor swallowed and touched fingers to his brow. “Apologies. A bit flustered just now. I came to tell you I’ve been summoned to House Ulstat same as every business owner in the city. Never mind the city’s close to rioting and we ought to be home protecting what’s ours. We’ve been called to witness. There won’t be anyone watching the front, so I’m barring the door.”

  Caffari smacked her fist into her palm, leather gloves muffling the sound. “That rotted tide scum. He isn’t really going to hang the boy yet—just wants to put on a show. He’ll make another grab for Lilik before acting.”

  The proprietor’s brow knit as he tried to understand her words. After a moment, he shook his head. “It’s not the gallows. Been called to witness a marriage.”

  The shock felt like a punch to the throat. The wedding. Raav had agreed.

  Caffari was cursing and muttering to herself. She whirled on the small woman who’d stopped short of leaving when the other door opened. “Get runners to the advanced parties. We have to delay until the rotted ceremony is over and people get back inside.”

  I staggered backward, waving my hand in the air behind me until I brushed fingertips over the sacks of grain I’d used as a bed that morning. Collapsing onto them, I stared, eyes unfocused.

  “We can’t stop it?” I heard myself ask.

  “An Ulstat ceremony with every merchant in the city called to witness? While mobs gather in the outskirts?” Caffari said. “Not a chance. I happen to value my life. Besides, we work from the shadows. Who and when traders choose to marry is none of our concern.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I CAN’T STAY here right now,” I said as I stumbled for the door. “I’ll be back within the hour.”

  “Lilik,” Caffari said. “Stop. Why risk it?”

  Memories of the times I’d spent with Raav swamped my thoughts. My hand landed on the door latch, cold metal against my skin and my scars.

  “It’s just something I have to do,” I said.

  “If we’re going to move, it must be tonight,” Caffari said. “After the ceremony but before the mobs disrupt our plans. Time is critical.”

  “I won’t let you down,” I said as I slipped out the door.

  With my face hidden deep in a cowl, I rushed through the streets. There had to be something I could do to stop this. My last moments with Raav circled in my mind. This isn’t goodbye, I’d told him. But it was. I’d disappeared in the night with no warning. No explanation. And now he had no choice but to tie himself to Ashhi Ulstat.

  Of course, he’d claimed he would leave her. Forsake his fortune. And I still had a hard time believing the other members of the former Trader Council would hold him to a contract made with an Ulstat. But the truth was, I was scared, deep down inside, that Ashhi would fool him like she had me. I’d been convinced she was different. I’d trusted her, even started to like her. Without me there, was it possible that Raav might fall under her spell, too?

  Along the streets, torches and lanterns had finally been lit. The flames blazed high. Hungry. Cold stars shone down on Ilaraok, an echo of the darkness surrounding Ioene. I kept thinking I glimpsed the aurora, but it was just my imagination. The air tasted of night, smoke sinking to fill the streets, supper bubbling in the stewpots. Gutterborn filed toward the grounds of House Ulstat. Few spoke, a fog of silence and fear clouding the air. I heard mutterings about the sudden nightfall. Superstitious talk of omens. Ill-blessed marriages. And in the lowest whispers, heard only with Tyrak amplifying my senses, people spoke their hatred for House Ulstat and the young man marrying into it.

  I remembered Raav’s kiss.

  I wanted to cry.

  No commoners were permitted within the Ulstat grounds. Instead, the metal slab of the outer gate had been slid aside, leaving only the inner gate of iron bars between the city and the House grounds. A set of bleachers had been erected before the gates, allowing at least fifty witnesses a good view through the bars while the latecomers crowded in where they could. On the other side of the gates, his face lit red in the glow of the torches, Raav stood with hands clasped before him. To the onlookers, he might have looked merely somber. Serious, to match the gravity of the ceremony.

  But to me, he looked devastated. Shadows filled the grim lines of his face, and his shoulders were tense, the muscles stark beneath the thin weave of his tunic. The tailoring fit his form precisely, and the sigil of House Ovintak was embroidered on the chest.

  Though at a casual glance, it appeared that his hands were loosely clutched, the blanching at his knuckles showed his efforts to remain calm. As I stood near the edge of the crowd, my whole body hurt with my inability to stop this. I didn’t know how I’d expected to halt the marriage. I wanted to yell to Raav, but that would lead to my capture. Instead, I rose onto tiptoes, hoping fate would bring his eyes to mine.

  The slow beat of drums announced the procession of the bride. Dressed in a silk gown that bared her back and a neckline that plunged halfway down her belly, Ashhi strode from her family’s home. Her lips, painted nearly purple, curved in a seductive smile while her eyelids remained half closed. I wanted to vomit.

  As the Ulstat girl approached, Raav swallowed and dropped his hands to his sides. I scanned the gathered Ulstats and their servants. Despite having seen the sword plunge into her gut, I still hoped to spot Nyralit. But she wasn’t there. If she were simply injured, wouldn’t Trader Ulstat force her to bear witness to the union? My lip trembled as I curled my toes and held back tears. I would defeat the Ulstats single-handedly if necessary. For Heiklet. For Nyralit. For Raav and the future we might have had.

  Hips swaying, Ashhi joined Raav before the gathered crowd. When she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, he stiffened. In the glow of the torches, his eyes threw daggers at Trader Ulstat. A faint lift of his upper lip showed a sliver of teeth. Good. Let him be angry. Because the alternative was that he might find happiness with Ashhi. He didn’t know what kind of creature she was. He had no idea she’d betrayed us, and most likely she’d given him the same false confession she’d given me about not wanting the marriage. And I had no way to let him know.

  A clerk for House Ulstat stepped forward and read from a long scroll, describing the combining of House assets under Kiriilti law. Around me, the crowd shifted. Mutters were silenced by the gate guards baring the steel of their blades. After the first scroll was finished, the clerk drew another from a tall leather case. Merchants sighed with annoyance as the man droned on. The gutterborn marriages I’d attended had been festive, full of songs and speeches and declarations of devotion. But not this wedding. This was all business.

  Finally, they came to the specifics of the union. All of Raav’s wealth was to be relocated to Araok Island. Once House Ulstat gained control of Ioene, the assets would be moved again, to Ashkalan. Ashhi would be given the management of the fortune due to the recent fall of House Ovintak and the Ulstat lack of confidence in Ovintak abilities.

  With each statement, Raav blinked, long and slow. His House was being dismantled, and it was largely by his hand.

  Finally, he clenched his fists. Ashhi noticed, and she took one of his hands
in both of hers. Stroking it, she stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear. Raav visibly relaxed at her reassurance.

  I wanted to scream.

  Soon, a servant brought forth a tray with an ink pot and a pair of quills. As if reluctant, Ashhi grasped a quill and looked at Raav with questioning eyes. Pressing his lips together, he nodded and picked up the other.

  They signed together, each placing their name at the bottom of the scroll. The gathered commoners shifted in their seats, and only when Trader Ulstat signaled one of his guards to rattle his cudgel against the base of the stands did the crowd take up a desultory cheer. Rising on her toes once again, Ashhi pressed her lips to Raav’s. For a moment, he stood frozen. And then slowly, as if awakening from a daze, he placed his hands on her back.

  The kiss grew deeper as Ashhi pressed herself harder against him, and Raav’s hands slid over her skin, stroking her back. He was enjoying it.

  I couldn’t handle it anymore. Regardless of the attention I drew, I shoved aside the people crowding behind me. Running from the scene, I gagged and stumbled, shoulder thudding against the wall surrounding House Ulstat. I spat bile onto the ground before me and ran on.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  AS I STAGGERED through the streets, arms crossed over my belly, I spotted families taking comfort together inside their homes. The candles inside the ugly buildings blazed so bright. But outside, the darkness pressed in, a crushing force.

  Unfortunately, I’d taken a wrong turn while running from the grounds. I’d lost my bearings, and it seemed every turn just took me deeper into unfamiliar parts of the city.

  Toes catching in the ruts, head bowed and tucked deep inside the cowl, I just kept moving. If I stopped, my loneliness would catch up to me. If I paused, I’d never find my way back to the slums and Caffari’s safe house.

  As I marched, Tyrak slipped the bounds of the dagger. He walked beside me, a warm presence. If it’s any consolation, he said. You still have me.