After a moment of silence, I opened a gap in my mental barrier.
Mavek? I asked.
You’re ready?
We are.
I’ll give you directions as you walk, she said. There’s a faint path leaving from the far end of the beach.
“Follow me,” I said as I lifted my rucksack.
“Hey, Councilor?” Jet asked.
I smirked at his insistence on using a title for me. I slowed my pace so he could draw even with me.
“Something’s been bothering me,” he said. “You say this Mavek’s initiates were responsible for the cataclysm. You sure it’s a good idea to let her guide us?”
I suppressed a cringe as I imagined Mavek’s reaction to his words. She didn’t need more reminders of her part in the end of her civilization.
“If she bears responsibility for the evil acts of her students, then I’m just as guilty for failing to stop Mieshk Ulstat.”
And I’d respond that you bear no fault for Mieshk’s actions, Mavek said. But it’s one thing to hear those sorts of reassurances and quite another to believe them. I am quite familiar with that predicament.
I think we understand each other well, I said.
But as I said, we should talk little lest we alert Mieshk. Perhaps in the days to come we’ll have more opportunities to speak freely.
True to Mavek’s words, a narrow path, scarcely visible between tangles of overgrown foliage, struck up into the jumbled wilds on Ioene’s slopes. Peering, I could make out the ancient slate flagstones that prevented the brush from erasing the path entirely. That explained how Mavek knew the path’s location. Distance and direction in the physical world were quite difficult for the nightstrands to perceive. But with her memories of the island’s past, she could help us navigate.
I started to take the lead, but Jet laid a hand on my arm.
“Please let me,” he said, wrapping a hand around his sword’s hilt. “Just in case.”
I drew breath to object, but thought back to Daonok’s words. Lips pressed together, I nodded. As Jet crashed through the brush that overhung the path, I stepped in behind him. Raav followed me. Lithe and nearly silent in his movement, Daonok roved to either side and ahead. Tkira brought up the rear, grumbling as she hiked.
As we walked, my hand drifted to Tyrak’s hilt. After Mavek’s warning about alerting Mieshk, I was nervous about speaking to him through the aether.
I wanted to ask him his theories about how the nightstrands were hiding. But I’d understand soon enough—Paono would explain everything. My chest warmed in anticipation at the thought of seeing my best friend again.
The Vanished pathway wound higher and higher up the volcano’s flank. Where the slope steepened, steps made of ancient stone blocks cut through cliff bands. In the center of each step, a slight depression had been polished by the soles of long-ago shoes. As we trudged, single-file, I inhaled the perfume of kivi blossoms, the smell of the sea, and the acrid breath of the volcano.
Ahead of me, Jet scanned the darkness, hand on his sword. The nightforged boot knife I’d given him poked up from the holster on his knee-high leather boots. The sight brought a smile to my lips.
After about an hour’s walk, we reached a small clearing.
Best spot for a quick rest, Mavek said.
Rather than speak to her within my thoughts, I nodded, knowing she could perceive the action.
I turned to the others. “A quick break.”
Jet dropped his rucksack and pulled out a loaf of bread, breaking off a portion for each of us. As I chewed my first bite, I sat on a rock at the edge of the cleared area. A stand of foilwood, its pale bark looking like bony fingers in the moonlight, overhung the trail beside me. I grabbed one of the small nuts that had fallen from the branches.
“After I fled the Nocturnai, I made camp beneath some boulders,” I said, smiling sadly. “I was away when the others found my cave. They gobbled up my stash of foilwood nuts. Spent an hour spilling their guts after that. All except Heiklet, who was smart enough not to eat something she didn’t know was safe.”
“Oh, tides, that was awful,” Raav said.
“Heiklet… I truly miss that child,” Tkira added.
Abruptly, I felt a quiet presence prying at my walls. My heart stuttered as I opened a gap, wider than the one I’d left for Mavek.
Lilik…? a young voice said.
My breath left my body in a sigh of wonder. Could it be?
Heiklet?
Lilik! I thought it was you but I couldn’t be sure until—
Stop! Mavek roared in my head. You’ll give them away! Mieshk will kill them!
“Heiklet’s here,” I whispered. “I can hardly believe it.”
Lilik, you have to get away, Heiklet said. Now!
Clap shut, child! Mavek snapped. Unless you want to watch your friends die. Paono is close, Lilik. He knows you’re coming. Gather your things.
Confused, I lifted my rucksack. I swallowed as I turned to the others. “Mavek says Paono is close, but…” My brows drew together. “Something’s wrong. Just moments ago she told us to rest.”
My hand fell to Tyrak’s hilt. Noticing the gesture, Jet stiffened. Grabbing his sword, he bared a hand’s width of steel.
“What’s happening?” Tkira said, even as her hands curled into fists.
Daonok had been pacing back and forth along the trail while we snacked. Now, he drew his dagger and dropped into a crouch.
Your little friend is confused, Mavek said. She had no channeler to guide her into her new existence.
Run! Heiklet screamed.
When the first twig snapped, Jet’s sword sang as he pulled the full length of steel from the sheath. Men roared as they leaped, crashing through foliage near the exit to the clearing. An arrow whizzed past my ear.
“Run!” I yelled. But as I spun to race back down the trail, two more men stood from their hiding places and blocked my path.
“Rot,” I muttered, pulling my weapon free.
Chapter Eight
HOW COULD YOU, Mavek? Rage blackened my thought as I shoved it into the aether.
Before me, one of Mieshk’s followers, an oarsman from the failed Nocturnai, snarled and circled. He was trying to force me to turn my back to one of his fellow ambushers. I held Tyrak in a defensive posture as I quick-stepped toward my group. We were outnumbered, but if we could fight back to back, we could protect each other.
The man struck, and I parried. My blade missed his arm, but I followed my slice with a kick to his gut. Air whooshed from his lungs, smelling of decay and the poisoned scent of a starving body devouring its own muscles. Every one of the ambushers had sunken cheeks and glassy eyes.
My shoulder met Tkira’s, and we closed ranks. Glaring at the closest attackers, I raised my dagger again. In the dark of the island, the blade reflected the blue-green light of the heavens.
When Mavek answered, the sadness in her voice was as deep as an ocean. I fought her, Lilik. But I couldn’t resist her command to seek you out and deceive you. I wasn’t strong enough. None of us are, anymore.
Behind me, Jet grunted as he blocked an attack. The blow forced Jet to step back, pushing our group toward the brush that edged the clearing. The movement brought me within arm’s reach of the two men nearest me.
I deflected the clumsy attack of a scrawny man, a former deckhand from the Evaeni. I remembered him—he’d been wiry before, but the weeks on Ioene had turned him skeletal. My deflection knocked him off balance; I stepped close and elbowed him in the hollow of his throat. The man gagged.
Spotting an opening, the other nearby attacker struck. He aimed a rusty knife at my ribs only to be stopped by Tkira’s fist to his face.
As our nearest ambushers staggered back, I risked a glance at the rest of the clearing. All told, six men and two women circled us. They were tired and emaciated. If their ambush had gone as planned, they might have killed or subdued us before we’d managed to draw weapons. But thanks to Heiklet’s warni
ng, we might win this.
To my right, Daonok growled. “Bunch of rotted novices. I almost feel guilty.”
Leather rustled when he sprang. I heard muffled bumps and the wet sound of flesh parting.
“How do you fare, Daonok?” Tkira called.
“My blade’s a wee bit dirty now,” he responded. “I’ll have to wash the blood off later.”
The first mate cackled. “Anyone else want to try us?”
The scrawny man nearest me shuffled forward but made the mistake of a quick glance his fellow ambushers. At that moment, Tyrak flowed from the dagger and sped my reflexes. Together, we shouldered the man backward. His hands flew up in an attempt to catch his balance, and with a leap, I brought both forearms down on his weapon hand. His knife clattered to the ground.
A heartbeat later, Daonok jumped in front of me and plunged his dagger into the man’s shoulder.
“Wait!” I hissed. I didn’t want anyone to die if we could help it. Most of Mieshk’s followers had started as innocent crew of the Evaeni. No doubt they felt trapped by that choice.
Daonok cast me a glare and then clubbed the man on the temple. The ambusher crumpled, limp.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t objected quickly enough for all of Mieshk’s followers. By the time I spun to take in the rest of the scene, three former deckhands lay bleeding on the ground. Two had vacant eyes and slit throats, and the other wriggled feebly, hands clutching the gaping wound in his abdomen. Blood slicked the ancient paving stones of the clearing, reflecting the glow from the heavens.
“Enough!” The voice was a shrill screech. I grimaced as I searched for the source. “Drop your weapons!”
Nearly a dozen knives and swords hit the ground. With Tyrak still clutched in my grip, I whirled.
It took a moment for me to understand why so much metal had clattered to the flagstones. What in the rotted tides? My friends had all laid down their swords and were now looking at the discarded weapons in bewilderment. Tkira had been fighting barehanded, and she stared at her open fist as if unsure what to do with it.
“I said… Drop your weapon, Lilik.”
The voice was behind me. I spun as Avilet Majkut rose from her hiding spot near the clearing. When the Evaeni had sailed from Istanik, five nightcallers had been aboard. Heiklet, the youngest, had died as a result of Mieshk’s brutality. Katrikki and I had returned home aboard Zyri’s Promise. Avilet and Mieshk had remained on Ioene. To tell the truth, I had nearly forgotten her. During the Nocturnai, she’d lived in Katrikki’s shadow. I’d assumed Mieshk had used Avilet in the same way she did the sailors, treating her as an expendable resource.
I was wrong. Where before, Avilet’s skin had been smooth, the light cocoa color so common in the Islands, cracks now split her cheeks, the gaps an angry, fiery red. The surface of her flesh looked charred and dry. Her hair, once shoulder length and shining, was reduced to scattered tufts. But worst of all, her eyes glowed red.
My mouth was hanging open. I shut it with an audible clap. On the ground, the man with the slash across his belly writhed. No one but me seemed to notice.
Avilet’s lip twitched. “Maybe you didn’t hear me,” she snarled. “Drop. Your. Weapon.”
She stared at Tyrak, expectant.
“I have no idea why you think I’d do that,” I said.
Avilet flinched as if struck. As she crashed through the brush toward the clearing, I grabbed Daonok’s arm and shook. “What are you doing?” I hissed.
It’s the compulsion, Lilik, Mavek said. I always suspected it was possible for a soul priestess to command the living if she gained enough power. I’m sorry to say Mieshk proved me correct.
Beside me, Tkira finally recovered from her shock. Hissing and spitting like an alley cat, she leaped on the nearest ambusher.
“Stop.” Avilet’s command arrowed across the clearing. For a moment, I felt a desire, ever so faint, to obey. But it certainly wasn’t strong enough to change my actions. Tkira, on the other hand, froze.
Avilet stepped into the clearing and strode toward our small group. “You,” she said, tapping one of the ambushers on the shoulder. “Pick up your weapon and kill Nightcaller Boket.”
Without a word, the man, an oarsman judging by the piles of muscle that remained on his arms and shoulders despite weeks on the island, crouched and hefted a blacksmith’s hammer. Roaring, he jumped toward me.
Aided by Tyrak, I easily sidestepped the attack.
Why aren’t her commands working on me? I asked Mavek. And for that matter, why are you telling me all this after you brought us here to die?
The man’s charge took him past me, leaving his back vulnerable for a strike. I raised my blade but hesitated. If Mavek’s words were true, he’d only attacked because of Avilet’s command. Should he die for an impulse he couldn’t control?
Lilik? Tyrak said. That was our chance.
I know. Just wait, I responded.
I’m not sure, Mavek said. I think her compulsion fails on you because you’re a channeler. And strongly aurora-blessed at that.
The big man spun. Regret flashed in his eyes as he raised the hammer and swung again. I ducked, and the iron head of the mallet swooshed over my head. As I rose, I aimed a kick for the side of his knee. Beneath my toes, bones crunched. Something snapped. The joint buckled, and he yelled through gritted teeth as he hopped backward.
“I said, kill her, you incompetent fool!” Avilet screeched.
The man stepped forward, his knee giving and bending at an unnatural angle. But still he kept coming, forced by Avilet’s words.
“The rest of you. Attack her!”
At once, everyone in the clearing moved toward me.
Rot, Lilik! Run! Tyrak yelled. He filled my body with strength, nudged my gaze toward a gap between the advancing attackers. I couldn’t help but lock eyes with Raav. Profound pain darkened his gaze as he stooped to pick up his short sword.
The gap was too small. There were too many of them. I wouldn’t make it. Whirling again, I judged the distance between Avilet and me. Four long strides would bring me to her throat, but Daonok crouched between us.
“Daonok,” I said in a low voice. “I need you to resist. Remember your daughter. Do this for another father who’s waiting for his child to return.”
The struggle was plain on his face. His cheeks twitched as he fought. From behind, a hand fell on my arm. No time left. I shook free, dashed forward. As I darted around Daonok’s crouched form, I tensed, expecting a blow from his dagger. None came, and I shouldered into Avilet.
We tumbled into a tangle of snarebrush, the recurve thorns gouging my hip and arm. Avilet’s flesh was hot, burning everywhere it touched mine. She shrieked. Ignoring the pain, I rolled her over, pressed my elbow into her throat, jammed my knee into her gut. Smoke and steam rose from the points of contact.
“Call them off!” I yelled. Behind me, I heard quick footsteps. Growls. In just moments, blades would slip between my ribs.
But Avilet just grinned, charred lips pulling back from blackened gums. “And return to Mieshk a failure? Never.”
Someone grabbed the back of my tunic and yanked me off her. I struck behind me with an elbow. Hit flesh and heard a grunt. But whoever it was didn’t release their grip.
Yelling, I kicked and slashed with Tyrak. Hit nothing. The needlelike point of an edged weapon pressed against my lower back. I felt the first, sharp pain as the blade entered my flesh.
Sprawled before me, Avilet laughed.
Desperate, I threw my mental walls aside and reached into the aether. Only Heiklet and Mavek answered my call. A duskweaving of three.
Even as I tried to bind our energies, the blade bit deeper, shattering my concentration. The spiritbinding fizzled as I cried out in pain.
No! Mavek called into my thoughts.
An instant later, I felt her vanish from existence. At once, the aurora flared, its power strengthening as Mavek’s life force joined the shimmering lights. A burst of energy rattled the ar
ea. Above Avilet, a boulder teetered on its perch atop a rock shelf. With a grating sound I felt in my molars, the boulder rolled, tilted, and smashed down atop Avilet as she writhed in the brush.
The massive stone crushed Avilet’s chest, pinning her so that only her head and shoulders stuck out from beneath her new tombstone. The moment stretched out while her mouth opened then shut. The red glow left her eyes and the cracks in her charred skin. I felt the sensation of her sudden absence as if a bubble had popped. At once, the night air felt cooler. Calmer.
At once, the hand holding my tunic relaxed, and I collapsed to the ground. Behind me, someone coughed.
“Mavek failed in life, and again in death,” I whispered. “But in the end, she sacrificed herself for us. That’s how I’ll choose to remember her.”
A strangled sob came from behind me. Rolling over, I looked up into Raav’s wounded eyes. My blood darkened the tip of his sword.
“Tides, Lilik. I couldn’t stop.”
I blinked.
“I nearly had control twice,” he cried, voice tight. “But the impulse was too strong. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
His fingers uncurled, and the sword hit the ground. Raav collapsed to his knees, staring in horror at his blade. Another cry escaped his throat.
It wasn’t his fault. Heiklet hadn’t spoken since the fight began, and her voice in my head shocked me again. None of them could fight her. I’ve watched.
I started toward Raav before the thought struck me, a cold dagger of apprehension through my chest.
Heiklet? Is it the same with Mieshk? I asked. As a nightcaller, Avilet had wielded just a fraction of Mieshk’s talent. If Avilet could command Raav to kill me, what hold did Mieshk have on her followers? What horrors could she force my small army to commit? I thought of Mieshk’s sentries, rigid on their watchtowers. Her other followers scrambling from place to place as if the alternative was fire.
It’s worse, Lilik. For both the nightstrands and the living. I’m sorry. Like you, I can resist. But the other strands… At least Paono made them safe.
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