The island grew larger as they sailed on, surrounded by a light mist that only heightened the sense of mystery. Viktor had once been born on the Yllaizlo, some years ago, but he didn’t remember it at all. Perhaps his own truth was out there, waiting for him to discover who he truly was and why he possessed the strange power that he did.
A murmuring noise caught his attention and he turned to see Rook yawning, eyes fluttering as she disentangled herself from a snoozing Kilai with her tangled red hair strewn across her face. Janus was perched on a crate, rolling a cigarette through his fingertips, so quiet Viktor hadn’t even noticed he’d awoken. It was strange to contemplate what would happen now. These strangers had become important to him, somehow.
“Where are we?” said Rook, lids still heavy. A beam of light stripped half of her face of colour, one eye a shining white. She shuffled fully into the porthole’s rays, eyes snapping open. “We got away. The beast. It––”
“Ate the ship,” said Janus.
At Rook’s questioning look, Viktor nodded. He still didn’t understand. That giant shadow beneath the boat. The way it had listened to his commands. The sheer enormity of it as it had pulled out of the water, jaws splaying wide and tearing into the hull of their pursuers, destroying it with one snap of its serrated maw.
“That thing is still out there,” said Rook.
Viktor suppressed a shudder. “We awoke it. I think I awoke it.”
“That’s incredible.”
He couldn’t dispute it, even if the way her eyes shone made him uncomfortable. He didn’t understand why he could do these things, or what any of it meant.
“Viktor,” she said softly, “we’re going to figure this out. We agreed, remember? To Tsellyr and the real Order of the Riftkeepers. We’ll find out what you are. Who you are.”
A lump lodged in his throat at the words and he found himself looking away. Lies had brought him here, but maybe, somehow, those lies could bring him truth. “Are you sure you want me there? This power… I don’t even understand it. What if I lose control?”
Rook tilted her head, eyes roaming over him in a way that stripped him bare. “You’re not alone, Vik-ka. You’ve got friends, if you want them.”
Viktor stared at her. Her expression was open and earnest; she meant every word. His eyes fell on Janus, watching the two of them with his dark eyes, head tilted to one side. Kilai still slept, brow furrowing as she curled even tighter into her herself. Friends.
He’d had allies before; people in similar circumstances finding it easier to struggle together instead of apart. The concept of a friend was one foreign to him. On the streets it just simply wasn’t possible to trust anyone but himself, knowing that if they thought they could gain from it any one of those so-called allies would clamber over themselves to stick the knife in his back. To have someone to look out for him and care about what happened to him was something he could scarcely believe in. Even after all they’d been through together, he struggled to bring himself to accept her offer, frozen and unable to find his voice.
Rook laughed and shook her head. “Stop worrying so much. Kilai and I are still going to continue with this, see if we can fix the mistakes that we’ve made. If you’re looking for somewhere to go, the offer is open.” She turned her head to look at Janus. “To both of you.”
Janus’ grip tightened on his unlit cigarette, tobacco spilling from the end. For a baited breath he said nothing, and then shrugged. “Got nowhere else to go.”
Rook beamed. “We’re becoming a regular old kashei now.”
“I don’t remember agreeing yet,” he said.
A yell sounded from above, telling them that they were nearing land, soon followed by the stamping of feet on the deck above the forecastle. Viktor looked up, heart racing.
“We’re here!” exclaimed Rook, jumping to her feet only to double over, gasping as she clutched her side. Janus steadied her and she forced her grimace into a smile. “I can’t wait until we get to Tsellyr. I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”
Kilai’s head jerked up, a cloud of red curls puffing out around her. “What’s going on?” she groaned, rubbing her eyes.
Rook grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “We’re here! Wake up, let’s go!”
“It’s too early in the morning for this,” Kilai grumbled as they made their way towards the deck. “When was the last time any of us managed more than a few hours sleep?”
Viktor was every bit as exhausted, having barely slept the entire night. He wouldn’t have slept for the world, though, to step upon the deck to a brand new horizon. The shore of Yllaizlo was stretching out across rippling blue waves, opening up for them in greeting. They were sailing towards a complex network of piers, various rickety looking boats moored to the floating structure, bobbing up and down with the breath of the water. There was a few scattered buildings perched upon the black rock of the cliff face but there was little other signs of life. The water continued inland past the structure of piers, forming a wide, lazy river between a community of mangroves, their wide roots planted deep.
A sigh of relief seemed to ripple through the crew on the deck at having arrived safely, barely a whisper of evidence of the storm from the night previous on a serene sea. Yigor hollered out a cry, followed by a series of sharp whistles as they neared. A woman poked her head out from the nearest cottage above them, waving when she saw them. A few others joined her as she directed them into the harbour, catching a thick knot of rope to tie them down, the crew working to drop anchor. Viktor watched it all unfold with his shoulder leaning over the railing, eager to be off the ship.
“Any trouble?” she called up as the gangplank was lowered.
“You could say that,” said Yigor with a glance back at the crew, some snickering.
The first of the crew came next, carrying between them large crates with rope handles. Janus raised his eyebrows at Rook and she swatted at him, muttering that it was “all his fault”.
“Right, you scallywags,” said Yigor, arms crossed. “Off my ship. Eternal light be I never see any of your faces again.”
Kilai went first, lifting the ragged hem of her skirts as she stepped onto the gangplank. She dipped her head to Yigor who scowled, nose scrunching up as if he’d tasted something foul, and then swept down towards the pier. Rook bounded after her, shadowed by Janus who gave her support when her wound caused her grief. Viktor made to follow, but was stopped by a hand clamping down on his shoulder.
“Where are you going to?” rasped Red, eyes locking him in place.
His mouth opened but he couldn’t find the words. Guilt surged in him – Red had been there for him in his hardest times – and he rubbed the back of his neck as he scrambled for an explanation. “Thought I’d travel a bit. See where I’m really from, you know?” He winced at how uncertain he sounded.
“Viktor, your friends are here.”
There were very few of the gang left, just a ragged few amongst Yigor’s crew, and Viktor had never called them friends anyway. “I know. But I think it’s time I went my own way. I never belonged with them. You know that, Red.”
The grip tightened on his shoulder, enough to hurt. “We need you. Can you really abandon us after everything that’s happened? When you’re the one who could save us?”
Uneasiness buried itself in his gut. He tried to shuffle back a step. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m just a nobody, from nowhere.”
“I think we both know that isn’t true, is it?”
There was something raw in Red’s grey-green eyes. It was as if he was looking through him rather than at him, seeing visions in his own mind.
“Viktor, are you coming?” yelled Rook from the pier.
With a deep breath, Viktor pulled the hand from his shoulder, hand pounding. “I need to go.” He tried to make a quick escape but Red grabbed his wrist and hauled him back.
“You’re going to abandon your brothers just like that? What happened to all that I’ve done for you? Are you going to leave
us all to be executed like the rest? That could have been you.”
“I know,” he said, panic rising. The guilt was too much, but he couldn’t be trapped again. He was stuck on the precipice, teetering between the face of his past and future on either side of the gangway. “I know, Red, but I can’t go back. I can’t be part of it again.” The fire crackled in his veins in answer to his fear and frustration.
I bow to no one.
Just as he feared the flames would rise again, Red released his wrist with enough force for him to stagger back, eyes widening. “Go, then,” he said, shaking his head as he turned away. “Run away. We’ll spit on your name as the coward you are.”
Viktor felt sick. Part of him longed to throw himself at Red’s feet and beg forgiveness, but another, deeper part of him ignited with anger. He didn’t owe them anything. Not after all he’d been through. A voice in the back of his head hissed that he was worth more than this, and how dare he be spoken to like that.
He wants you to come running back. The realisation was like a punch to the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. He’s manipulating you.
“Viktor?”
Snuffing the tendrils of green fire that crackled between his palms, Viktor wheeled around and marched down the gangway, towards the three strangers that had become his friends. Towards his future, and towards a chance at finding out the truth about his past.
“I told you I was coming, didn’t I?”
Rook smiled. She still looked pale and drawn, lips leached of colour, but somehow she found it in herself to smile. “Onwards we go!”
Kilai gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and he nodded in return, a strange giddiness snaking in his belly. The weight of a stare at his back made his neck heat with the urge to look behind him, knowing that upon the deck Red would still be watching. With feelings both light and heavy, Viktor took his first step onto a new adventure, falling into line with his new companions.
He didn’t look back.
Epilogue
“The boys are taking an awful long time to get back, aren’t they?” mused Rook as she and Kilai drifted the green waters of Ikka Dall. The rows of squat homes warped in the reflection of the rippling waves as their small rowboat cut through them. The terraces were raised on stilts above the waterline, although the brown stains roughly a third of the way up the peachy coloured paint revealed a darker story. Nevertheless, there was something picturesque about the little water town, homes decorated with strings of paper lanterns that warmed the darkening sky with globules of orange light, dusk descending so suddenly it felt like she had blinked between night and day. Something about the rapid change made her feel uneasy.
“I’m sure they can take care of themselves,” said Kilai, staring forwards, unblinking. She barely seemed to take in her surroundings. Rook could concede that a lot had happened to them lately, expression softening.
“I just don’t see why it would take that long to find us beds for the night. There must be others coming through this way. Surely there must be more than just us looking for places to stay?”
“I don’t know,” said Kilai, “this hardly seems like a hive of activity.”
They nodded to one man who sat on his porch, smoking from a long reed-thin pipe that wafted smoke in plumes into the air. It carried a fragrant scent, sweet over the smell of damp and stagnant water.
“What’s that?” Kilai pointed.
The creature undulated through the sky, body swelling before it stretched forwards, tendrils pushing out behind it. It shimmered with a light so pale it was more white than violet, the glow mirrored on the russet mirror of the water. “That’s a Star Nettle. Completely harmless, don’t worry.”
“Star Nettle.”
“Mm. Wait until night falls fully. You’ll see.”
Kilai’s eyes remained on the riftspawn above even as she rowed them on.
Rook peeled back the wrappings on her abdomen with a grimace. She hoped fever hadn’t set in; she didn’t know what medicines she would have access to here. The power she had drawn from riftspawn back on the ship had helped to accelerate the healing a little but she certainly wasn’t able to heal like Viktor, whose regeneration was beyond the likes of anything she had ever heard of. Pain flared when she prodded at the tender flesh, raw and caked with brown blood.
“Are you all right?” she asked, trying to distract herself.
She was answered with a raised brow. “Shouldn’t I be the one to ask that question?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that. I’m still alive. That’s something, right?”
Kilai snorted. “Sure. That’s quite the achievement, considering.”
A yawn escaped her before she could suppress it. “I’m ready to crash, though. Where was it we were supposed to meet them, again?”
“Janus said either he or Viktor would send out a signal.”
“Do you think we missed it?”
Kilai turned to look at her, expression almost amused. “I’m not sure we can miss green fire. Stop worrying so much. We got away from the Sonlin forces. For now we’re safe.”
“But––”
“Look,” said Kilai, gesturing with her chin.
Rook tried to quash the anxiety pooling in her stomach and glanced down at the water with a gasp. The glassy surface, now an inky blue, shone with a pattern of shimmering silver-violet lights that danced and sparkled like stars in the night sky. Her head shot up to see the riftspawn fill the sky around them, moving in that rhythmic swell and release that reminded her of the ebb and flow of the tide. A few clustered around Kilai at the bow of the boat, illuminating the wonder in her eyes with a line of soft silver, tracing down her cheekbones and the dip of her cupid’s bow as she parted her lips. Rook smiled.
“Pretty, huh?”
“It’s…” it took a moment for Kilai to tear her eyes away, “stunning.”
“Mm. I promise it’s not all death and gore.”
“You’re very passionate about this, aren’t you? About them?”
“I suppose you could say I’ve dedicated my life to figuring out the rifts. And how to make our interactions with their spawn safer.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt before tugging it back over her stomach. “I’ve seen horrible things when they’re allowed to roam free without checks. But it’s not all bad, you know?”
“I can understand that. Especially when you, you know, have that thing you’re bonded to.” Kilai frowned, fingers trailing over the reflected light of a Star Nettle. “I don’t really understand it all yet but I think I want to. The things I’ve seen… It’s hard to think of the world in the same way.”
Rook nodded. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad to have you with us.”
Kilai took her proffered arm and clasped them together, fingers tapping their temples. “I just hope things aren’t beyond repair.”
“I like to believe nothing is.”
“Does that actually work?”
She gave a soft laugh. “I’ll let you know when I actually find out.”
They lapsed into silence for a while, only broken by the swish of water against their paddles and the distant hum and chatter of night time insects. The air was humid enough that she had to consistently wipe the sweat from her forehead, heady and thick with the promise of another storm. Rook wasn’t keen to be exposed to yet another storm so soon, her exasperation gnawing at her as the night grew deeper. She wanted shelter, and fast.
“I really think we ought to try and turn back. See if we can trace their steps.”
Kilai nibbled her bottom lip. “Can you still sense Viktor nearby?”
Rook closed her eyes and connected with The Rook, casting out her net. The riftspawn all around her hummed against her skin, registering in different volumes and cadences, but she couldn’t locate the one she sought. She threw it out wider, keeping in mind the familiar charcoal burning of Viktor’s signature. There. A whiff of flame and that jackrabbit rhythm. Her brows furrowed.
“What? What is it?”
“He’s so far away. Why is he so far away?”
“Maybe they couldn’t find anywhere to stay?”
“No, Viktor’s signature is very strong. I should be able to sense it easily but––”
The distant echo of a gunshot reverberated through the valley, sending shivers through Rook. The burning energy on the edge of her senses flickered and faded out, until she couldn’t feel it at all. She sat up so quickly the boat swerved, nearly tossing both of them into the black water.
“Rook?”
“He’s gone. Viktor’s gone.”
Kilai’s dark eyes were wide. “What do you mean ‘gone?’”
“I can’t feel his signature at all. Something has happened to him.”
They stared at one another with twin expressions of horror.
“We have to find him.”
Rook speared the water with her oar, panic setting in. They had been through too much to let one of their own die now. They had to save Viktor.
The Broken Door Page 34
