“No placements here. I’ll have to go a little farther,” I said.
It looks harder ahead, Tyrak commented.
Yeah, well I don’t think I can reverse that last move. Not without falling. And I can’t exactly stay here. I’ll run out of energy.
Now that I’d let myself admit it, my arms were getting tired. Standing on the small ledges, I’d burned through much of the strength in my calves, too. I glanced back at my last point of safety. When I’d pounded the spike into the rock, it had felt solid. But what did I know? I’d never tested one of these pitons.
I swallowed and scanned the rock again, hoping I’d missed a little gap I could use for one of my smaller pitons. Nothing. A crystal crumbled from beneath my right toe as I adjusted my stance. The sudden bolt of fear caused my leg to start to tremble.
I took a deep breath and examined the next moves of the traverse. Tyrak was right. The holds got thinner. My hands began to sweat, the moisture slick against the rock. One hand at a time, I let go and wiped my palms on my trousers.
Just focus. You can do this, Tyrak said. My gaze flicked back to the ledge where the others watched in tense silence. The thief holding my rope had it in a white-knuckled grip.
I closed my eyes and turned my face back to the rock, swallowing. After a deep breath, I opened my eyes and scanned the rock ahead. Where the fingers of my right hand were wedged in the crack, Ioene’s energy tingled through my scars. I focused on that, imagining the island’s magic guiding me. As I abandoned myself to the sensations, I envisioned the stone as a large map. Somehow, feeling Ioene within me, I could sense where the rock might fracture. With my lips pressed together, I released my left hand from the knob it was pinching. I focused on my balance as, one by one, I wiggled the fingers of my left hand into the gap where my right hand was jammed.
I breathed shallowly through pursed lips as I worked my right hand free. From my shoulders to my knees, I held tension in my body to keep from swinging out from the rock while I stretched for a hold I couldn’t see. The fingers of my right hand crabbed along the face until they latched an incut edge that had been hidden from sight. But it hadn’t been hidden from my mind’s eye. Ioene had shown me the way. Hopping to switch my weight from my right to my left foot, I edged my right toe around a bulge in the stone and curled my foot until the leather of my shoe landed on a large toehold.
With a whoop of joy, I transferred my weight to the new stance. The balance was much more secure, and I was able to unclip a piton from my shoulder sling and shove it into a crack just above my head. Three solid whacks of the hammer sank the spike deep into the rock, and I clipped my safety rope through the carabiner. Back on the ledge, I heard my belayer sigh with relief.
I looked back and grinned as if I’d never been concerned.
Ahead, the traverse looked easy by comparison. As I dried my hands on my pants one more time before continuing, Raav’s head popped out of the chimney.
“What is she doing?” he asked Paono.
“Just being herself,” my friend responded.
A swirl of wind capered down the mountainside, lifting my hair as I hurried across the remaining moves before the pedestal. Far below and out to sea, waves crashed against the reef. My forearms were aching from the strain of holding my body weight on edges no wider than my fingertips, but I wasn’t concerned.
Soon enough, I stood on the pedestal, a wide table big enough for our entire group to gather. As my belayer had instructed, I searched out fissures for three more piton placements and pounded the spikes into the rock. On the last one, I managed to smash my thumb. I yelped, and the rope at my waist came tight. When my belayer saw me sucking my thumbnail, he rolled his eyes and paid out slack. After knotting the rope to the new anchor, I took a deep breath of the sea air and turned to examine the path ahead.
Glassy eyes and a too-bright grin greeted me. Mieshk’s follower jumped at me from behind a pile of rubble where the pedestal met the cliff face.
I yelled and raised my hammer in defense.
Chapter Fifteen
THE WOMAN’S HAIR was ratted. Dirt smudged her face. But beneath the filth, I recognized her. The cleaver in her hand confirmed it. Weeks ago, I’d known her as the head cook aboard the Evaeni. She wore ratty sandals, the soles woven from dried seagrass, strapped on by ragged strips of leather. As she advanced, the shoes folded under her toes, catching on sharp ridges of rock. I cringed. Any moment, she’d trip and go flying over the edge. Not that that would be terrible, seeing as she was attacking me.
But any deaths would only add to Mieshk’s power. Rotating the wooden handle of the rock hammer in my hands, I stepped to put my back to the wall and examined her for weaknesses. I needed to disable not kill her. It was critical.
With a shriek, the woman sprang. One of her shoes flapped when she left the ground, folding when she came down. She went down on a knee but turned the motion into a desperate scramble, beastlike toward me.
I raised my leg to kick her in the shoulder, maybe knock an arm out and send her sprawling. But she was faster than I expected and with a howl, wrapped grubby hands around my ankle. As I tried to shake her free, she yanked my leg and sank her teeth into my shin.
“Ow!” I yelled, kicking hard enough to dislodge her.
The cook landed on her butt and elbows and snarled, wide-eyed. Behind me, the rope leading from my anchor across the face snapped tight. People were shouting on the other ledge. I ignored them and kept my eyes on my attacker. She scuttled like a crab over to a boulder and used it to help herself up.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said. We were more than a thousand paces from Mieshk’s fortress. Her compulsion didn’t hold here. I just had to convince the cook that we meant her no harm.
At my words, her face screwed up in a mask of despair followed by rage. And then, her face stilled, looking almost dead. With uncanny calm, she stood and unstrapped the sandals from her feet. I recovered from my surprise at her sudden transformation. This was my opening. I jumped, hammer raised high. A blow to the head would knock her unconscious without killing her, provided I aimed it right.
I focused on her temple as I flew through the air, but suddenly a hard band jerked across my hips, stopping me short. I fell on my knees and hands, and the hammer skittered toward the edge of the pedestal, stopping just a hand’s width from the edge.
The woman laughed though her face remained as emotionless as before. Maybe she’d gone insane from so long suffering under Mieshk. Still stunned by the sudden loss of momentum, I patted my hips. Of course. The harness. When I’d tied the rope to the anchor, I’d given myself just an arm's length of slack to move around.
As the woman stood straight and hefted her cleaver, I back-stepped and pulled Tyrak from his sheath. My free hand landed on the rope tying me to the rock wall. I didn’t have time to cut it, not if I wanted to be able to parry a blow from that cleaver.
Swallowing, I raised Tyrak and fell into a defensive crouch.
From the open cliff face I’d crossed, I heard grunts, the clang of metal, and boots scraping over rock. A flick of my gaze showed one of Caffari’s rogues using the rope as a hand line as he paddled his feet sideways across the cliff. I licked my lips, hoping my pitons would hold.
With a feral shriek, the woman sprang. The cleaver glinted in the light of the aurora as it swung in a wide arc overhead. I got my forearm up, blocked her hand with the bracer, and struck hard with the pommel of my dagger to smash her fingers between the hardened leather on my arm and the metal of the dagger. Her grip on the cleaver loosened, and it fell to the ground, narrowly missing my toes.
She growled, low and loud, but when she tried to reach for her weapon, I kneed her in the face.
The cook staggered backward, hands coming to her nose as blood sprayed. Yet still, her face showed no expression. I didn’t understand it.
With a shout, the rogue jumped the last distance across the cliff face and landed on the pedestal. He ran at the woman, slamming his shoulde
r into her ribs. They both went down, but the cook regained her feet first. She turned her face to me, and finally, the mask cracked into a grin. With a shrug, she turned to face the sea and the outer edge of the pedestal and started running.
No!” I yelled.
The rogue saw what was happening and leaped for her. He caught her ankle and pulled her down just before she jumped. The woman folded at the waist, her torso falling over the edge of the cliff. Her hands slapped vertical stone. Caffari’s man outweighed her. Otherwise, they’d have surely been pulled over the brink together. Grunting, he dragged her back, and as she struggled, he clubbed her on the side of the head.
Finally, she stilled.
After the thief and I had bound the prisoner and fastened her to the piton anchor, I paced while I waited for the others to make the traverse. I examined the trail ahead. At the far edge of the pedestal, a wide ledge cut across the stone buttresses, flat enough we’d be able to walk without needing a rope for safety. No doubt the cook had used it to reach the pedestal, which meant we’d have little difficulty accessing Mieshk’s fortress.
But why had she been here? Had she known we were coming? The prisoners I’d interrogated had believed only Mavek could sense anything specific about our position or plans. But maybe they were wrong.
“Lilik,” Paono said quietly. He’d made it across the traverse and now stood at the rim of the pillar, looking down over the far side. “I want to show you this.”
As I walked up, I cocked my head at my friend. “An interesting route you found for us. Back home, you weren’t such a good climber. I’m surprised you even attempted that section, especially without a rope.”
Paono grinned crookedly, his bangs falling over his eyes as he ducked his head. The gesture reminded me of the look he used to sweet talk the laundresses into scrubbing his shirts for him.
“You hadn’t crossed it,” I said.
He shrugged. “Not exactly. When I was scouting, I turned around and found a different—longer—way past the steep part. But it had looked climbable, so I figured we should just take the shortcut. Figured someone would speak up if the traverse looked too difficult.”
I rolled my eyes as I stepped up next to him.
“We made it, right?” he asked. “And look. This is the other reason I wanted to come this way.”
Peering over the drop, I grinned. “Come see, Raav!” I called, forgetting the brooding tension that had been hanging around him.
Far below, an aquamarine pool was encircled by cliffs. Tiers of ledges ringed the pool. On one, buildings backed up to the cliff. A wave of nostalgia hit me. It was our lagoon.
Raav stepped up beside me, his movements rigid. As he looked down on our first sanctuary, a storm of emotions crossed his face. Our first kiss had happened while we sheltered inside that refuge. Was he remembering that? Or was his guilt too strong? I wanted so badly to help him forget it, but I just didn’t know how.
Steeling myself against the possibility of rejection, I slipped my hand into his. The cartilage in his neck bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t pull away, at least.
“Lilik,” Daonok called. He was crouched beside our new captive. The woman was stirring, eyelids fluttering. I hurried over, followed by Paono and Raav.
As the woman came to, her gaze swept the gathered group. Everyone had made it across the traverse, though many had muttered curses as they did so. Her expression remained flat as she stared at us.
Paono crouched beside her, opposite me, and laid a hand on her shoulder. His eyes grew distant, and I could only assume he was forging a link with her. Before I’d left Ioene last time, he’d spoken into my mind in a way similar to the nightstrands’ communication. I assumed he was attempting to do the same thing, or at least to sense her emotions like he had mine.
But after just a brief moment, he jerked away, grimacing.
“She’s not alone,” he whispered. “I tried to link with her spark. But it’s shrouded. There’s another spirit blanketing hers.”
Possessed by a nightstrand… of course. No wonder the woman had attacked us while so far from Mieshk’s fortress. Mieshk’s powers of compulsion were limited with the living, but her true strength lay in commanding the nightstrands.
I grabbed the cook’s hand. “Throw the spirit out.”
The woman’s face twisted. She struggled against her bonds.
Opening myself to the aether, I reached for the strand inside her mind. You can resist the compulsion. She commanded you to attack us. You did, and now your duty is fulfilled. You’re released.
Faintly, I sensed the spirit’s presence. Still bound to Mieshk’s will, the soul existed in her domain. Not mine. As I’d learned on Araok Island, physical space had little meaning in the aether. As long as Mieshk controlled the nightstrand, I had little hope of influencing the spirit.
I shuffled around the woman’s feet until I crouched shoulder to shoulder with Paono. “Maybe if we try together,” I said. “Speak to the woman. Help her cast out the strand while I try to break Mieshk’s hold on it.”
Nodding, Paono closed his eyes. At the same time, I cast down my walls and allowed my perception of the physical world to fade. With my awareness on the aether, I sensed Paono. He reached for me, a sensation much like a crystalline net launched from his mind to mine as he forged the spirit link that was his specialty as a life-channeler. Through that bond, I sensed the nightstrands of the Vanished. Nearby, but unreachable. Paono was right, they were locked within him. I wanted to pry at the walls of their prison but now wasn’t the time.
Ready? I said across our link, sending reassurance with my thought.
He nodded, returning a wave of trust laced with affection. Together, we reached for the woman’s mind.
Like an arrow, our combined strength pierced the barrier between Mieshk’s domain and ours. Waves of hideous intent leaked through the puncture, and I recoiled, snaring the exposed tendril of Paono’s mind and dragging it back with me.
Too late. The nightstrand that had possessed the cook streaked through the gap and dove down the tunnel from the aether into my mind.
At once, I had no control. Nothing. Like a puppet, I climbed to my feet. I felt the nightstrand’s despair, her inability to control the impulse that had sent her into my body and now compelled her to take control of me. During Vanished times, she’d been a farmer. It had been a simple, pleasant life. She didn’t want to harm anyone, but Mieshk’s command was too strong. Mieshk had demanded that I die, and the nightstrand would see the command fulfilled.
With great reluctance, she lifted one of my feet and set it down a step closer to the edge of the pedestal. The next footfall was quicker, and then I was running toward the edge of the precipice.
“No!” Paono and Raav yelled at the same time.
I heard the scrape of feet behind me, but couldn’t stop. The edge of the pillar loomed closer.
I’m sorry, the nightstrand said in my mind.
Get! Out! Tyrak barreled into the woman’s spirit, and I tripped. My shoulder hit bare stone first, followed by my face. I skidded across the top of the pedestal. My head slid past the edge. A fatal drop was right before my eyes.
Finally, Tyrak ejected the nightstrand from my body. Grabbing full control, he brought me to my hands and knees and forced me to scramble away from the drop. For once, I didn’t mind him using me like a puppet.
Across the cavern of the aether, I heard Paono yelling at the nightstrand enslaved to Mieshk. Choose the aurora! he screamed.
I can’t! she yelled. She’s calling me back.
But in that last moment, the strand regained a shred of will. Not enough to choose the aurora, but in a last act of defiance, the Vanished farmer gave herself to the fire. Not more than three paces in front of me, the edge of the pillar cracked away, molten at the edges as a large block fell and crashed to the slope below. Flame roared in the brush where the fallen section of the pedestal landed.
Following the nightstrand’s last act, the former cook
from the Evaeni coughed as she struggled, finally back in control of her body.
Chapter Sixteen
I LAY ATOP the pedestal, my head pillowed on Raav’s leg. With gentle fingers, he smoothed stray hairs off my face. His eyes were haunted. How many times would he have to watch me nearly die?
I took a deep breath and sat up, pausing to look him in the eyes. As I drew breath, intent on reassuring him, he shook his head and waved me off. I nodded. We needed to keep momentum.
The group gathered around the captive parted to make way for Paono and me. My knees were still weak from the horror of being possessed. I’d known Tyrak could take control of my body because of our shadowbond, but I hadn’t expected it from an ordinary nightstrand. Maybe Mieshk’s compulsion had given the soul the ability to capture me. Or maybe I’d opened too far.
In any case, my skin still crawled from the experience.
Still bound with tight coils of rope, the cook struggled to sit. After weeks on the island, her cheeks were sunken, and her eyes peered out from dark hollows in her skull. Though Daonok crouched beside her shoulders, he made no move to help but rather waited for my command.
I nodded at him and slipped a hand behind her back. Together, we levered the woman upright and helped her scoot back to rest against the vertical cliff rising behind the pedestal.
“You’ll kill me, I imagine,” the woman said in a weak voice.
Before I could respond, Daonok slipped a blade from his boot holster. “You did just try to murder one of us. I don’t see why I shouldn’t slit your throat right here.”
I tried to catch his eye. We needed this woman’s help. She’d been through weeks of misery with Mieshk, and I doubted more threats would make her want to talk. But he seemed to anticipate my objection and cast me a sharp glare. I pressed my lips together. Okay, we’d give his method a shot.
The cook turned her eyes to me. “She wants you. So badly it consumes her.”
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 83