I didn’t let my smile show. Daonok’s underlings might interpret it as gloating. Instead, I nodded. “Thanks. And tell Caffari to meet me after. We have an expedition to Ioene to organize.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“THERE’S REALLY NO more?” I asked as I stuffed the last bite of a cinnamon-dusted sweet bun into my mouth.
Raav’s mouth drew up at the corner. “You could keep a bakery in business single-handedly, it seems. And no. That’s the last one.”
We sat on a rooftop overlooking the harbor. Down below, Trader Ulstat’s army was busy contending with the rigging on unfamiliar ships. Fleet-footed and with no desire to be lurking around when the Ulstat guards arrived, Daonok’s people had convinced the crew and captains of the ships to melt away into the city, leaving the trader with few able seamen to work the decks.
Caffari’s group had done the same along Trader Ulstat’s marching route. Almost every building he’d searched for would-be oarsmen had been deserted, the inhabitants alerted minutes before by Caffari’s rogues. Unfortunately, our warning had come too late for a few. Standing on the docks, the small huddle of prisoners looked around with fearful eyes. I didn’t need to worry, though. From my vantage, I spotted a small and stealthy smuggler darting between stacks of cargo. Another quick dash, and he’d be within reach of the rope binding the prisoners to the anchor cleat.
All told, Trader Ulstat had taken just three ships. The others were either too small to brave the wild seas beyond the harbor mouth, or too large for his small force to crew. I was glad. Raav had promised to repay the captains their losses, and I didn’t want him to have to spend too much. Plus, stopping and sinking three vessels would be much simpler than halting ten or twenty. And it would be easier to keep track of the survivors as they swam to shore. Despite his bluster, Daonok had agreed to capture any half-drowned guardsmen who sloshed onto the beach. I didn’t yet know what I’d do with my prisoners, but surely I’d figure out something.
“Hey, Raav?” I said while we waited. At the same time, I extended a tendril of affection to Tyrak. I wanted him to know this was for him as well. “There’s something I should tell you. Tyrak and I have a special bond. You felt some of it, I’m sure, when I was joined with your spirit.”
He sat up straighter, face unreadable. “I did.”
“It’s been confusing for Tyrak and me because we both remember his love for Zyri. And she’s still part of me, too.”
Raav clenched his jaw, but he didn’t move away. “I can imagine,” he said guardedly.
“When I saw you—when you kissed Ashhi, it hurt so much. I know you were just pretending—now. But at the time . . . I couldn’t handle it. Tyrak and I are close. We’ll always share Zyri. But someday, I hope to reunite them. It was so hard to watch you choose someone else. And it made me realize there’s a right person for all four of us.”
Tyrak was silent for a while. I’ve been hoping you’d choose me, he said at last. Much of that comes from my feelings for her ghost. The traces of her that still live in you. But not all.
When you’re back together, the confusion will go away. I’m sure of it.
But without you, we can’t even be together. There is no Zyri and me without you to channel us.
I chewed my lip. I can’t accept that. Not until we’ve tried everything.
He touched me with a thread of affection tinged with sadness. I’ll try to believe in that. Thank you for being honest with both of us, Lilik. It needed to happen. And you won’t get rid of me so easily. We’re still friends, right?
We’re more. We’re shadowbound. Joined by a bond so powerful it spawned legends during your time.
“You didn’t mention any of this before,” Raav said. “Why?”
Shame heated my cheeks. “I was afraid. I thought I might lose you both if I admitted the truth. And . . . it’s a problem of mine. Sometimes it’s easier to lie than face the consequences of honesty.”
“But you’re sure now?” he asked, fixing me with a stare. The sun had begun its slide toward the sea in the west. Red light, further darkened by the haze of smoke, colored the strong lines of his face.
I nodded. He hadn’t touched me since I started the conversation. The tension in his body scared me. Had I made a mistake in coming clean?
“Will you tell me if you have doubts again? I deserve to know, Lilik.”
My gaze fell to the docks. The thief edged close to the prisoner’s rope, knife bared. I dragged my gaze away and forced myself to meet Raav’s eyes.
“From now on, you’ll know everything in my heart. I swear it.”
The tightness around his eyes softened. Raav breathed deep, his pulse throbbing in his neck. “I trust you,” he said. Scooting closer, he draped an arm across my shoulders. “But from now on, you have to trust me too. I would have understood once you explained. At least, I think I would. I’ve never held two people within my mind. But you had her memories. You can’t help but be affected by her feelings.”
As I leaned my head on his shoulder, the thief slipped his blade under the ropes. He must have hissed an explanation to the prisoners; I couldn’t hear anything, but the small group tensed and prepared to run.
The rope sliced clean, falling away from the cleat. Bursting from their huddle, the commoners and thief ran together, plunging into an alley. I heard the snick and clatter as the caltrops trap sprung, scattering spikes behind the fleeing group.
A few Ulstat guards shouted, and took up a desultory chase. But upon seeing the wicked gleam of the caltrops, they stopped short and looked to Trader Ulstat for direction. The man stomped across the deck of the largest ship, whipped off his jacket, and threw it to the planks.
“Forget it,” he yelled. “Time to cast off.”
Following his words, guardsmen and ruffians clambered down to the dock and started unwinding ropes from the bollards. Oars emerged from the sides of the ships, nudging the vessels away from the decrepit wharf.
“Ready?” Raav asked.
“I was ready for this weeks ago.”
I opened to the aether, unfolding the protections of my mind, vanishing into my Need. Like little pinpricks, my scars began to itch, then sting as if I were being bitten by hundreds of ants.
It’s amazing, Lilik, Nyralit said, abruptly beside me. I feel your potential. Our joined abilities.
Afraid I’d break my concentration, I didn’t answer. Instead, I focused on moving my awareness away from my surroundings, falling deeper and deeper into the embrace of the nightstrands. The spirits pulsed all around me, a great, vibrating tone. Unlike the duskweaving I performed from inside the aether, I did nothing conscious to bind them. Instead, it felt the other way around. The strands lifted me, merging their energy with mine.
Tyrak had said I shouldn’t expect to control the magic; only my Need determined the effect. But I tried all the same. I Needed to stop Trader Ulstat from joining Mieshk on Ioene. Even if he sought to oust her, his presence there would only make my task harder. I Needed to keep those ships from leaving the harbor. Storm swell or not, I could not risk having them survive the voyage and make landfall at the volcano.
Fate whirled around me, the great wheel of possibility spinning and tilting and spreading endlessly into the future. Yet I had no sense of a choice. Only that my Need approached. It made sense; the choice was clear. Trader Ulstat must be stopped.
In my thoughts, I heard the nightstrands gasp and mumble in joy and astonishment. My scars burned as light rays shot from them.
Can we stop them? I asked into the aether. Sink the vessels and end the Ulstat threat?
Ripples traveled the weave, the strands responding. Power swelled in and around me, a bubble of possibility. I stood and fixed my eyes on the water. Tugged by the oars, the ships wallowed toward the harbor mouth. Already, they’d crossed half the distance despite the ungainly motion of untrained crew and oarsmen. A breeze stirred the pennants atop the masts, and guardsmen fumbled with the rigging as they hoisted sails.
&n
bsp; I couldn’t understand. Why was nothing happening?
Leesa? I don’t sense a choice. Am I wrong about that?
I tried to imagine the actions I’d taken before, casting myself into the maelstrom of fortune.
There is only one path this time. But we don’t yet feel your Need’s moment, only that it’s approaching.
Do you see darkness? I hated to ask the question. So many had died. Nyralit was gone. All because of my Need.
Leesa held her silence for a moment. The future is clouded. I can’t say. But it’s time, Lilik. Your Need calls us.
At once, the power burst from me, a raging torrent that spilled across the harbor toward the ships. Caught in its blast, the sails flapped and bellied. Ships righted their courses, steered with assuredness toward the harbor mouth. The crew started moving with renewed vigor, imbued with the efficiency of seasoned sailors.
Confused, I stepped toward the edge of the roof. Raising my arms higher, I waited for the light to lance from my scars, skewer the hulls. Burn holes in the ships and let the sea inundate the holds.
The power raged harder, no longer a directed stream, but an immense, tidal wash. I felt the island beneath me, the vast sea spreading in all directions. The waves tore at its surface, an angry lashing of energy emanating from Ioene. Slowly, my feet rose from the roof. My body drifted higher, granting a vantage of the strait beyond. With a final explosion of strength, the power gushed from me, cascading over the strait and the sea beyond.
The waves quieted.
At the mouth of the harbor, the sea was a tranquil invitation. Not even a whitecap marred the surface. Yet the wind still blew upon Trader Ulstat’s small fleet, urging the ships away from the island and into the sea beyond. As the vessels surged into the open water, wakes cutting a rumpled trail through the otherwise mirror-perfect sea, the furor returned to the ocean behind them. In a stark line hundreds of paces aft of the ships, waves once again rose from the water, roiling the ocean in a complicated dance.
I hung, suspended above the rooftop, my heart full of shock and betrayal as the wind and the calm pushed Trader Ulstat north. Toward Ioene.
Why? I couldn’t help the anger in my voice. How could the strands or fate or my Need betray me like this?
No one controls your Need, Tyrak reminded me. It just is.
I sank toward the timbers of the roof, slowly enough to see that the calm channel remained open, escorting the Ulstat fleet.
But I Needed to be rid of him.
No, you wanted to be rid of him, he said softly. It’s different.
Yes, I understood that, but it still didn’t make sense. Why would my Need send my enemy to the place where he could most easily hurt my cause?
As I descended, I folded my legs, landing cross-legged upon the roof. From behind, I heard the rustle of clothing. Raav joined me. Moments later, Caffari grunted as she climbed onto the rooftop. She stalked across the timbers and crouched on my other side. I didn’t bother to look at either of them. My horror over my failure was too strong. I felt nothing but shame.
“I can’t say I understand what just happened,” Caffari said quietly. “Though my people won’t be too upset. None were looking forward to dealing with a bunch of soggy Ulstat guards.”
“I’m confused, too, Lilik,” Raav said.
I blinked, eyes fixed on the open water where the ships had escaped. My toes curled inside my shoes. When I’d performed the duskweaving from inside the aether, I’d sensed the choices. Though I couldn’t understand how to choose a vortex, I had an inkling that it might be possible, despite what Tyrak said. Maybe someday I could learn how. But just now, Leesa and I had sensed the same, single course. There was no choice. It had to be this way.
After a while, I took a deep breath. “There has to be a reason. He must still have a role to play if we’re to win on Ioene.”
That’s right, Tyrak said. None of us know the future.
Caffari snorted. “If you say so.”
Raav laid a hand on my shoulder. “You believe that Lilik? Because if you do, I trust you.”
Straightening my spine, I nodded. “I do. I couldn’t begin to tell you why he’s necessary. But I have to believe he is.”
Caffari was busy scratching a stick figure into the roof timber with the point of her blade. “So about Ioene . . . My people have a bit of work to do here. Seems they’ve been inspired by you, believe it or not.” She pointed to the spray of waves off the coast. “They want to help the commoners get to high ground before the storm worsens. We have quite a few hidey-holes up in the hills, and we’re willing to share, considering the grand promises you’ve made about Ioene.”
“Not promises,” I said quickly. “We still have to get there. Take back the island. Heal whatever damage was done between Mieshk and the Vanished coven.”
She grinned. “I mentioned a few difficulties. But after what you did in the mine and at House Ulstat, I’m having a hard time convincing them you’re as unworthy as you pretend.”
Raav squeezed my knee. Planting my palms on the rooftop, I closed my eyes. Images of the last days swirled around my thoughts.
“We never finished our conversation about . . . what did you suggest? Terms?” I said, turning my face to the afternoon sun and letting its rays warm my skin.
“About that . . .” the bandit leader said. “I’d like to adjust my demands. I didn’t think my smugglers would follow you. But I realize now that anyone who wouldn’t is an idiot. Good riddance.”
I opened my eyes and took in her grinning face. “You don’t want to lead?”
“Let me be an adviser. And a disciplinarian if it comes to it. But I wouldn’t presume to make choices for you. Not after what I’ve seen.”
Sitting straight, I held out my hand to shake hers. “It’s a deal.”
“So, as leader of this new enterprise, what are your orders?”
I grinned. “After you help the gutterborn to safety, gather your best people. We meet tomorrow at noon to lay plans to retake Ioene.”
Tyrak slipped the bounds of the dagger and gave me a phantom hug. Friendly this time, without the longing that had colored our relationship.
I have no doubt that you’ll do it, he said.
DARKBORN
Book Four
Shattering of the Nocturnai
Carrie Summers
Chapter One
“GET BELOW OR lash yourself to a mast!” Caffari yelled as she stomped past, her voice nearly stolen by the howling wind. “You fall overboard in seas like this, and you’re lost for good.”
The bandit queen leaned hard, shoes scrabbling for purchase on the tilting deck as she scrambled for the front of the ship. The forward deck was veiled by wind-tossed spray; when I caught a glimpse between gusts, Caffari was lashing her wrists to the wheel. Overhead, clouds roiled, bruised with vivid purples and greens. The wind whipped strands of hair into my eyes while salt spray scoured my exposed skin.
I swiped water off my face and searched for the nearest mast. I was not going below. No way. My stomach was already churning as violently as the surrounding sea. If I were going to die today, I wouldn’t do it vomiting in the bottom of the ship. Besides, if we sank, I’d much rather try to swim than be trapped in the hold.
As I staggered toward the mainmast, sailors ran past, weaving and stumbling over the rocking deck. Squinting against the spray, I searched the deck for Raav. His years of shipboard expertise on House Ovintak’s trading fleet had made him indispensable during the six days we’d spent fighting heaving seas. But this storm was far worse. Deadly, judging by the grim urgency in the smugglers’ movements. Surely Raav was somewhere on the deck helping with preparations.
Unfortunately, most figures were nothing but shadows in the storm. I couldn’t spot Raav in the spray.
A handful of smugglers had already gathered in a circle around the mainmast and were passing a coil of rope around the group, tugging it tight to secure everyone. I ducked under the loops of rope and helped pass the c
oil around.
Now and again, the spray parted, allowing a glimpse of the front deck. Caffari still stood at the wheel, stalwart. At the forward mast, a pair of crewmen lowered the sail, leaving just a small triangle exposed to the wind. Anything more, and the gale would tear the canvas to shreds. Less, and there would be nothing to keep our ship from being turned broadsides to the waves, smashed and sunk beneath the heaving gray waters.
The other sails had already been furled. After a last pass of the rope around the group, the smuggler beside me knotted the end. Now, we could only wait and hope. Tossed back and forth against my neighbors, I closed my eyes to the fury of the storm and opened my mind to the aether.
My connection to Tyrak was a solid link of comfort. Sheathed at my waist, his spirit swirled within the confines of the dagger. But otherwise, my mind felt only unbounded emptiness. No spirits dwelt near this vast and heartless tract of ocean.
Some course you led us on, Tyrak commented.
Don’t blame me. It was my Need.
Before leaving Araok Island, I’d gathered energy from the aether, hoping to conjure fair winds to push us straight to Ioene.
Unfortunately, the effects of my magic, called a duskweaving, weren’t under my control. Instead, fate and fortune decided how to fulfill my Need. And more often than not, I couldn’t even choose what I Needed. So when my duskweaving had finished, instead of calm seas and full sails, we’d ended up with a ship’s compass that no longer pointed north, but rather suggested a direction for our next tack.
Even so, I’d hoped the guidance would help us weave through the worst of the storms spilling off Ioene. Instead, the rotted device had steered us straight into this tempest.
Anger flickered when I thought of Trader Ulstat’s fleet, carried toward Ioene by another of my duskweavings. Unlike our ship, his vessels had been given the favorable conditions I’d hoped for.
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 71