Raav was sitting behind Tkira. I looked away from his smile of affection for the coarse woman. Otherwise, I might smile too and give her the idea I was mocking her.
“And here we are,” Jet said. “Ashkalan…”
His words died in his throat as we crossed from the narrow channel into the open water of the harbor. The instant the channel walls fell behind, fear slapped me, a frigid wave to the face.
I nearly cried out.
“What is it?” Tkira whispered, only to turn white and wild-eyed moments later.
I didn’t answer, only pointed at the city above. Built upon a set of terraces reaching high up the mountain, Ashkalan had once surrounded the harbor like a gray-robed priestess cradling a child. But now, the city had been corrupted—I had no doubt of that. Dark symbols had been painted on the terrace walls, ancient runes in a language I didn’t understand. It was neither the flowing script of the Vanished nor any of the alphabets used by the Kiriilti.
But even if I couldn’t read the symbols, I had no doubt as to their meaning.
We were not welcome here.
“We have to go. Now.”
“Rot, I think I’m going to—” Jet gagged and coughed and nearly lost his breakfast over the rails. He dropped the oars and slumped, trembling, into the bottom of the boat. His eyes darted back and forth, and his mouth went slack with fear.
I whipped my gaze to Raav. Ordinarily dark and smiling, his eyes held dread.
Swallowing the metal-taste in my mouth, I grabbed the oars and started turning us around. After a moment, Raav shook free of his trance.
“Grab the tiller,” he said, his voice tight. “I’ll row.”
As we switched spots, his gaze kept flitting to the dark runes on the wall. Mine too. What had happened here?
“Do you feel it?” Tkira said. “The presence?”
At once, I knew Ashkalan was the source of the hungry malevolence that had been waiting for me for days. Evil lived here, and we’d delivered ourselves to its gaping maw. Death watched us from above. From all around.
I closed my eyes as Raav yanked the oars, pushing us toward safety. Our progress felt so agonizingly slow. Any moment, we’d be turned inside out. Made hollow.
When we crossed back into the narrow channel, the sensation vanished as quickly as it had come. I took several shaky breaths before I could uncurl my fingers from the tiller.
“What in the rotted fish guts was that?” Tkira spat.
“I felt hollowed,” I whispered. “Any longer and—”
What did you just say? Tyrak asked.
“I felt that one more minute there and I’d be scraped clean on the inside. Nothing left. A sucked-dry shell.”
The fear I felt from Tyrak’s spirit at that moment was as strong as any emotion he’d shared with me.
The Hollowness, he said. Some called it the Hunger.
You know what was wrong with Ashkalan?
During the cataclysm, there were a few who speculated the breaking of our islands was more than the fire spawned by Mavek’s rogue coven. Outcasts mostly. No one paid them much heed when they talked of a shattering in the aether. A great hollowness lying beneath, jealous of our vitality.
As we coasted through the channel, Jet blinked, recovering from the experience. After a moment, he climbed onto the bench and took the oars.
He took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes darting back toward the city. “We best get back aboard the ships. Need to find a safe anchorage.”
I swallowed. “Everyone’s tired. We need rest.”
Tkira and Raav nodded agreement.
“As long as it’s far away from here,” Tkira said.
Chapter Six
CAFFARI AND CAPTAIN Altak turned the ships around, sails flapping as the big vessels came about and caught the wind again. A short distance back along the coast toward the lagoon, we’d spotted a small scoop of a bay earlier in the day. On the way there, as our ships slid over the waves, I thought about Ashkalan. Those symbols on the wall. Who’d made them? Was Tyrak’s story about the hollowness true? Maybe Mieshk had done something to Ashkalan. It might explain how she’d gained so much power even without the figurine. But from what Tyrak said, that story had come from an isolated few.
Still…the similarities were eerie. I shuddered at the memory of how it felt inside the harbor. No matter how I tried to focus on other things, I couldn’t rid my mind of the sick feeling I got every time I thought of Ashkalan.
Raav seemed equally affected. He’d hardly spoken since we climbed back over the Midnight’s rail.
After we reached the bay and dropped anchor in the shallow waters, Caffari summoned a pair of her smugglers and sent them ashore in the dinghy to scout. Soon after, I gathered with Caffari, Daonok, and Raav at the bow of the ship. The crew of Zyri’s Promise lowered their rowboat with Captain Altak and Tkira inside.
Their oars splashed quietly as they approached. From behind me, came the constant rumble from Ioene’s fiery belly. But in my head, there was only the sound of my circling thoughts.
Once Captain Altak and Tkira climbed aboard, they joined us near the ship’s bow. A grim mood cloaked our group. Things were much more troubling on Ioene than we’d expected.
“About Ashkalan,” I said. “Tyrak spoke of a legend from his time. A great hollowness underpinning our world and aether. He doesn’t know if there’s any truth to it.”
The silence held while wavelets slapped the Midnight’s hull. Agitated by the motion, phosphorescent algae made a glowing ring around the ships. More lines of shining aquamarine lit the tideline where wavelets met the gravel shore.
Captain Altak’s face was drawn. Though it had been just a few days since I told him of Nyralit’s fate, he already looked thinner. Pale. “There’s much we don’t know,” he said. “Your nightstrands are gone, and your friend Paono is nowhere to be found.”
“Not to mention, we haven’t spied Trader Ulstat yet,” Caffari added.
“We won’t solve anything tonight,” I said, glancing at the rising moon. It was the second moonrise since I’d slept, and my thoughts felt both rigid and slow. “Agreed?”
“Agreed. For now, let’s talk about rules,” Captain Altak said. “No one goes ashore unless it’s necessary. What else?”
I glanced toward shore, looking for the scouts. Though I couldn’t see them, toward the east end of the beach, the night foliage rustled. “We need a safe perimeter,” I said.
Caffari nodded toward the beach. “Their first task is to find spots to set lookouts. Afterward, we’ll clear what foliage we need to give good sightlines on any approach.”
“We sleep on the ships,” I said. “If the mountain erupts like last time, we’ll want to be able to immediately back them off from the shore. We can’t afford to lose these vessels like we did the Evaeni.”
At the reminder, Captain Altak grimaced. Surely, the mention of the ship he’d shared with Nyralit only made her loss all the more painful. I wished I hadn’t had to bring it up.
“We keep the oars ready,” Caffari said. “Sails neat but loosely furled. If anyone raises the alarm, we retreat. It doesn’t matter who spotted the danger. There’s too few of us to begin with. We simply can’t lose people before our fight even begins.”
When she finished speaking, she pulled a throwing knife from the small pocket on her thigh and started cleaning underneath her fingernail. I felt a twinge of amusement. I could learn a lot from the bandit leader about how to look casual even when I was terrified.
“So what’s next?” Raav asked. “How do we move forward?”
I searched the others’ faces for ideas, but everyone was looking at me. I’d brought them here with claims that I’d free the island. But I’d expected to have an entire lost civilization advising me.
“We need information more than anything,” I said. “Tomorrow, I’ll lead an expedition to the lagoon. It’s our best chance of finding Paono.”
“And if he’s not there?” Tkira asked.
/> “Why don’t we answer that question after some sleep,” I said.
Around the circle, my friends nodded. None of us were at our best. And we needed to be if we were going to win here.
“So, who goes with you to the lagoon?” Raav said. I could hear the tension in his voice. He wanted to come, but he didn’t want to undermine my authority with the group, especially since we were the youngest members.
“I’d like your help in searching for landmarks, Raav,” I said. “Daonok, you’ll help us move stealthily. I’d like Jet’s sword.”
Thinking I was finished, Tkira screwed her face up in insult.
I barely stifled my grin. “The captains should stay with the ships. But Tkira, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like your eyes and opinions.”
Raav’s hand was on my back where the first mate of Zyri’s Promise couldn’t see it. As Tkira struggled to rearrange her expression to something resembling gratitude, Raav squeezed my side, tickling it. Sometimes it was a little too easy to rile Tkira. I shouldn’t take advantage of it.
“Everyone good with that? Caffari? Vidyul? Are you all right with staying aboard?”
“If you’re asking whether I’d rather go wandering around on an erupting volcano controlled by a half-mad tyrant who can melt stone,” Caffari said, her mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I’m okay staying with my ship.”
“After… whatever that was in Ashkalan, I’m happy with a deck beneath my feet and sails at the ready,” Captain Altak added.
“Tomorrow, then?” Daonok asked.
“See you then,” I said.
After a long hug, Raav and I parted ways in front of the door to my cabin. I watched him stroll down the hall and enter his room before I slipped into mine.
Like every ship—except Zyri’s Promise with her wood impervious to rot and fire and the softening of age—the air in the Midnight’s hold smelled musty and damp. But I was used to it by now, and the embrace of solid wood let me forget about the smoldering volcano above us.
I wasn’t quite ready for sleep, so I grabbed a rucksack from a hook on the wall and began packing supplies for tomorrow’s journey into the dark. After stuffing in the oiled leather jacket Caffari had given me, I opened my sea trunk and stared at its contents.
Last time I ran off into the wilderness, all I had was Mieshk’s discarded cloak, three swallows of water and a hunk of hard bread, I commented to Tyrak. This is a luxury.
I’m glad one of us can take the optimistic view, he returned.
As I searched for a woolen vest or overshirt to bring for warmth, a light tapping came at my door.
“Come in,” I said, only to jerk in surprise at the sight of Daonok’s face when the door swung open.
I could tell he was nervous by the way he ran his thumbs over the outer knuckles of his fingers. I stopped what I was doing to give him my attention.
He swallowed. “Let me start with this. No one doubts your bravery, Lilik.”
“And?”
“Actually, it’s more of a ‘but.’ No one doubts your bravery, but I was there when your Da begged you to come home safe. Everyone else on this voyage is willing to let you risk yourself. Even if they don’t show it, they’re terrified of Mieshk and the darkness and the volcano. It’s easy to let someone else take the risk. But I was a da once—had a little girl—and I know what it’s like to lose a child. So I couldn’t let you just go out there tomorrow without asking you to think hard about whether it needs to be you taking the risk.”
Stunned, I set the rucksack down and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I can’t even imagine losing a child.”
“I’m not telling you this to earn your sympathy, though I certainly do appreciate it,” he said quietly. “You might wonder what sort of path leads a man to become a criminal. I didn’t start out as a thief or a smuggler or a pirate, but grief has a way of changing a life’s course. At any rate…” He laid a hand on the door. “…What you do is your choice, but I wanted to remind you of the people waiting for your return. Maybe there will come a time when you must be the one to take the risk. But a trek through the dark to this lagoon? Why not let someone else go?”
I pressed my lips together and stared into my sea trunk, thinking. “I’m not sure what else to say besides I’ll consider your words. Thank you, Daonok.”
After he’d left, I sat on the bunk, hands loose on my knees. Maybe Daonok was right. Maybe I should sit this one out, if not for my family then because I’d be needed against Mieshk later. My magic against hers—I’d known from the beginning that only an ability like mine could counter her talents. But how could I just sit here while others risked themselves?
In any case, I set aside my rucksack for now. Sitting on my bunk, I felt the call of my pillow. I could pack in the morning.
Chapter Seven
LILIK… LILIK…
I rolled over; the voice must have come from my dreams.
Wake up. I don’t have much time.
Drowsily, I rubbed my eyes and blinked.
Lilik…
“Hello?” I mumbled aloud.
Thank the stars. You’re a difficult one to rouse.
I didn’t recognize the voice, a female who sounded middle-aged, or maybe just weary.
“Who is this?” I asked.
A friend.
A friend. In the aether. My mind finally jumped out of the chasm of sleep. I sat bolt upright, the wool blanket pulled tight and scratchy against my neck. Throwing myself wide to the aether, I felt the woman’s presence. A stranger. From the emotions radiating off her, I got the sense that she was earnest yet guarded. Regretful and a keen observer.
I brushed my hair out of my face. Are you one of the Vanished?
Yes, I’m fortunate they still accept me among their ranks. For my sins, they should have banished me long ago. My name is Mavek. I suspect you recognize it.
I gasped despite myself. During Vanished times, Mavek had been the leader of the group of soul priestesses skilled in compulsion. But, like now, the ability to compel souls against their will had been too tempting for some of the initiates. Though Mavek had tried, she hadn’t been able to control her prodigies. A rogue coven of her young initiates had brought about the first cataclysm.
I do, I said, careful to keep judgment from my thought. Where’s Peldin?
Hiding. Afraid. The aether is dangerous now.
But you’re not hiding.
I’m not. I failed before, and if I hid now, I’d fail again. With these words, the regret that emanated from the woman swelled, a steely-gray emotion.
From what Peldin said, you did your best.
Then I needed to do better, she said.
Mavek, where are the others hiding? They need to come out. I will protect them, but I need advice—I can’t fight Mieshk alone.
So many questions. Yet every time we speak, we risk alerting Mieshk to our location. We must hurry.
Hurry where?
I’ve come to take you to Paono. He can provide you answers, but he doesn’t wish to speak through the aether for fear it might draw Mieshk’s attention. Prepare for a trek. Quickly. Best if we move in a group of four or five, big enough for defense but not so large as to gather notice.
Paono! Joy flooded my heart at the thought of seeing him again. Just when our situation had seemed desperate, he’d found a way to get in touch with me.
Leaping from my bunk, I whirled and yanked out clothing and a waterskin, spare socks and a swatch of oiled leather to wrap food in. A knife. If only I’d had one of those on my first trip into Ioene’s wilds. Once again, I grinned at the luxury afforded by having time to prepare. “Okay,” I said aloud. “Give me a minute.”
Just hurry.
At ease in the darkness, Daonok breathed deeply as he paddled our boat toward the shore. The oars splashed with each stroke, sending curls of blue-green phosphorescence swirling behind the rowboat. Hidden around a curve in the coast, toward or beyond Ashkalan, a new lava flow oozed into the sea, hissing as i
t raised a cloud of steam that glowed red against the sky. Above the billowing mass, the aurora shifted and shimmered.
Behind me, Tkira kept a loose grip on the tiller. In the bow, Jet watched the shoreline, hand on his sword’s hilt. Raav and I sat side-by-side on the bench as our boat cut through a school of glowing jellyfish.
The sight of the translucent orbs reminded me of watching the sea creatures boil over a cookfire in our lagoon. At the memory of chewing the springy flesh, my stomach turned. I’d eat them again if I had to. But I hoped I wouldn’t have to.
When the boat scraped the gravel of the beach, Jet hopped out and seized the rail. As he held the boat steady, the rest of us clambered out, splashing down in the cold water. Together, we dragged the boat up onto the shore.
Tkira yawned as we stretched and tramped toward the tangle of night foliage at the edge of the gravel beach. I’d woken my friends from their first sleeps since before we’d spotted Ioene on the horizon. Tkira had found plenty of reasons to complain about being roused early. But the eagerness in her eyes betrayed her griping.
As we approached the edge of the beach, I searched the snarled brush for signs of Caffari’s lookouts. Their hiding spots were invisible to me, but a swirl of warm air descending from the mountain’s peak picked up the scent of lampblack, the smell of the dark pigment mingling with ash and a slight hint of the sulfurous vapors that I knew too well.
A long, flat boulder near the edge of the beach provided a bench. As I sat, I swung my rucksack around to my lap. I pulled out a waterskin and took a deep swallow. The water was warm and tasted of stale wood—it had come from kegs stored deep in the Midnight’s hold. Not very refreshing.
“Anything to finish before we leave?” I asked.
Both Daonok and Jet, new to the island, cast nervous glances at the fiery summit. Jet clenched his jaw as he shook his head. For Daonok’s part, he narrowed his eyes at me. I needed to try to speak to him alone. His words had affected me, but I was the only channeler among us. No one else could follow Mavek’s instructions.
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 75