Table of Contents
Welcome
Part One
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Part Two
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Part Three
1.
2.
Silent Queen
Prequel
Shattering of the Nocturnai
Carrie Summers
Welcome
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Silent Queen, a prequel novella to the Shattering of the Nocturnai series. I hope you’ll enjoy it! This book takes place about 300 years before the main story. Books 1 and 2 in the series are coming January 9th and 16th, 2017, with the third following within the month. Before you dig into the prequel, here is a little information on the first book, Nightforged.
All best,
Carrie
PS. I would love to hear from you! At www.CarrieSummers.com you can find information on how to reach me via email or social media, or if you would rather just let me start the conversation, you can sign up for my email list as well. Thanks!
Seventeen-year-old Lilik is gutterborn and sick of it. Done groveling to the tyrannical trader class, she is ready to be a hero. And the opportunity has arrived. On a distant volcanic island, a months-long night has fallen. Powerful magic gathers in the darkness, and Lilik joins an expedition determined to harness it. Shortly after landfall, disaster strikes the band. Marooned in the oppressive dark, Lilik’s shipmates turn primal, attacking each other. To survive, Lilik must evade the savages, unravel the island’s ancient secrets, and master her own, innate magic before it drives her mad. Anything else will lead to her execution… and a cataclysm unseen since the last millennium.
Visit Nightforged on Amazon to grab the book. And now, on to the story.
Part One
1.
THE MIDDAY SUN beat down as I hurried across the courtyard. Heat shimmered off black flagstones, penetrating my shoes and making my feet slide around in their sweat.
On either side of the dark-iron gates, an elite Ulstat soldier watched the slow stream of people passing in the street beyond. I sighed. Unfortunately, two sentries doubled the chance I’d be hassled.
One of the gates stood halfway open, a reluctant invitation for anyone who had business with House Ulstat. As I slipped through, the nearest guard looked me up and down and sneered.
“You have a reason for leaving the kitchens, girl?”
The meat for the guards’ dinner wasn’t rotten enough, I thought to myself. I’m headed to the butcher’s to find something with more maggots.
“Well?” he said, cupping his ear. “I can’t very well let you pass without knowing the reason.”
I clenched my jaw. The man knew quite well that I couldn’t speak. Glaring, I pointed at my mouth.
“What’s that? You’re hungry?” He laughed at his own joke, looking at the other guard for approval.
Not after seeing your face, I thought. Rolling my eyes, I stepped into the street. The guard laid a rough hand on my arm, but I twisted free. It wasn’t like he’d report me for leaving the House grounds. And if he did, the head cook, Iriinet, would claim she’d sent me. At least I hoped I’d earned that much loyalty after ten years working for her, starting as a six-year-old pot scrubber.
Clearing the gate, I skirted a small group of miners trudging off to some dark hole in the nearby crags. One of the men glanced at the compound I’d just exited and snarled at me.
It’s not like I work for House Ulstat by choice, I thought. You think I enjoy putting food in their mouths? I sidestepped out of his reach and hurried away from the House grounds—given the miners’ attitude, maybe Trader Ulstat had good reason for his recent paranoia.
Deeper into the city, Ilaraok, smoke and dust choked the narrow streets. The haze turned figures shadowy, and soot from coal fires stained the heavy stone blocks of the walls. Sweat trickled down my back as I turned into an especially narrow alley, a shortcut between House Ulstat and the refinery district. The passage stank, and I had to be careful not to step in something disgusting, but at least I’d earn more time with Eron.
At the thought, my heart sped.
While I walked, my eyes darted into dark alcoves, and I ducked my head to avoid drawing attention. A few workers were returning from shifts in the refineries. The whites of their eyes stood out in the dimness of the alley, shining from faces darkened by soot. I chose to brush against the dirty walls rather than get too close. It’d been a few weeks since someone disappeared from an Ilaraok alley, but I didn’t want to take chances.
A few hundred paces from the alley mouth, an elderly woman huddled in a recessed doorway, her arthritic knuckles reminding me of walnuts. As I stepped near her to avoid a big man walking in the other direction, she looked up.
“Hey,” she said in a weak voice. “Girl.”
Yes? I stopped and faced her, raising my eyebrows in question.
She plucked at the leg of my trousers. “Pretty girl like you, must have friends… Friends with money.”
I retreated a step, searching the surrounding doors for signs that she was working with someone. Thieves often operated in pairs. The old beggar looked helpless enough to convince someone to let down their guard, as I’d just proved.
And you’d like to take that money. I get it.
“Wait.” She raised a trembling hand. “I don’t mean to scare you. Just looking for a little help.”
Are you? Or are you keeping me still long enough for your partner to strike?
I touched my fingers lightly to my lips, fluttering them. Sometimes the gesture helped people understand that I couldn’t speak.
“Just a coin or two to get through until my son comes back?” she asked, rheumy eyes watering.
My shoulder slumped as I shook my head. This woman wasn’t a thief—she was just desperate. But I had no money of my own. The Ulstats provided for my needs, their so-called generosity keeping me dependent.
I’d help you if I could, dear old Nan. I tried to express the thought with my eyes. I hope that son of yours returns soon.
Most likely, her son was long gone. Sailed away for better prospects.
The old woman pursed her lips and glowered. “I was young once, too. Hair like threads of coal, just like yours. You’ll see. It won’t always be so easy.” She growled at me, a low noise in her throat, before looking away.
I stiffened before forcing myself to consider her situation. She didn’t understand that I was mute. Probably thought me ruder than most.
I forgive you, Nan, I thought.
I continued on, eager to see Eron. After few blocks, the alley narrowed yet again. Cinders blackened the packed earth between buildings, and only a few people filed along the passage. Ahead, the alley turned past a tannery. Above the bend, a balcony jutted over the alley, further cutting the light. I hated this part. Pulling my arms close to my body, I hurried my feet.
When the shadow of the balcony fell over me, I gritted my teeth. I just needed to make it another few blocks before the alley opened into the refinery district. Already I could hear the clangs of the ore crushers and the occasional squeal of a yoked mule.
When a hand fell on my shoulder, my heart jumped into my throat. I leaped forward with a silent scream on my lips. My toe caught, and I stumbled, throwing my hands wide for balance.
“Leesa! It’s me! Wait!” Eron called.
My pulse roared in my ears as I whirled on him. He stepped from a niche in the tannery’s wall, a sheepish look on his face.
I took a breath to still my nerves. Even in the alley, I wasn’t always so jumpy. Maybe Trader Ul
stat’s paranoia had infected me. It wasn’t just the added guard at the gate. Within the walls of the trader household, a mood of concerned vigilance had taken hold.
“Are you okay?” Eron asked.
Just give me a minute. I swallowed and willed my heart to slow.
“I didn’t understand that one, I’m sorry,” he said.
I tried again, focusing my thoughts and aiming them at him. I’m okay.
“Good,” he said as he stepped close.
Since the first time he’d heard my voice whispering in his thoughts, we’d both improved our ability to communicate. And my habit of thinking responses to those around me had become an obsession. Maybe others could hear me if I just tried hard enough. But so far, only Eron felt my thoughts. Our connection was probably due to Eron’s ability anyway, not mine. He claimed to have sensed scattered thoughts from others over the years, but until meeting me, he’d thought it had been his imagination.
“I only wanted to surprise you,” he said. “I’m sorry, Leesa.”
As he shrugged, apologizing with his body as well, I closed my eyes and leaned into him. His arms wrapped me, solid and warm, and I laid my head against his chest. After a moment, he lifted my chin and pressed his lips to mine. Dried from a morning exposed to hot sun and salt air, their warmth chased the remaining jitters from my body.
“To the shore?” he asked. “It’s cooler there.”
I nodded and linked my arm with his. As we passed the refineries, blocky stone buildings with chimneys spouting black smoke, I wrinkled my nose. The air was much fresher on the grounds of House Ulstat as the property lay above the city.
Near the shore, seabirds wheeled above the mounds of refuse, bones with marrow still wedged deep inside, rags smelling of rancid lard and rotten food. But once we passed the middens, the clean smell of the ocean reached my nose.
“Leesa… I have something to ask you,” Eron said, stopping at the top of the beach.
The edge in his tone sent a cold jolt up my spine. He rarely talked about serious things when we were together.
“My group has had news,” he said. “A chance to get information we can use against the Ulstats.”
Eron’s group was a network of men and women who believed Ilaraok should be governed by commoners rather than a trader family. A better description for his friends might have been rebels.
What does that have to do with me? I asked. I wished we didn’t have to talk about this.
Eron squinted at the water as if considering the narrow strait that separated our island from our closest neighbor. A few hours sail from here, other trader Houses ruled over different cities. But none so cruelly as House Ulstat presided over Ilaraok.
I picked up a smooth beach cobble and ran my thumb over it. Even though he’d turned eighteen and had been living on his own for two years, Eron was really just a messenger for his group. In the crowded streets of Ilaraok, he had almost no chance of being caught. But the topic always chilled my bones. Today it was worse. When he spoke against the Ulstats, I felt as if ominous memories tickled the edges of my thoughts, lingering just out of reach.
“I wouldn’t ask you to help if we had another a choice,” Eron said. He snatched my hand, curling his fingers around mine and the smooth stone I held.
Just tell me, I thought.
“One of Lady Ulstat’s maids claims she has information that will ruin the Ulstats’ trader status. She’s agreed to meet with the leaders of my group tonight, but I need to get her a note that gives directions to the spot.”
Which one is she? I asked. Lady Ulstat kept half a dozen women as her personal maids.
Eron shook his head. “I don’t know her name and neither should you. And if she’s caught, she can’t know that you helped us.”
Then how do I get it to her?
“She asked us to leave the note in the hallway outside Lady Ulstat’s bedchamber. Underneath the wooden pedestal where the lady sets her lantern. Do you know it?”
I rarely entered the wing of the house where the Ulstats slept. Instead, I came and went from the kitchens through a back door.
I know where the bedroom is. The pedestal shouldn’t be hard to find.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a scrap of rough paper. When he handed it to me, I unfolded the sheet and peered at the writing. Eron had been attempting to teach me how to read, but my progress had been slow. I had little chance to practice. And in truth, I was usually interested in other things when I was with him. I hadn’t learned nearly enough to puzzle out the words on the paper.
“It’s better if you don’t know what it says anyway,” he said.
Not that I could tell anyone, I said to myself. He didn’t hear the thought, or at least he didn’t acknowledge it.
“Will you do it? If we succeed, no one in Ilaraok will have to fear the Ulstats again. And I was thinking… maybe someday you and I…”
The memories returned, once again dancing at the edges of my mind. Eron was still talking, but I lost track of his words. I grabbed for recollections, hoping to seize at least one. But the memories fled, leaving just tattered glimpses behind. A cook fire. The sound of a woman singing. And the smell of oats which somehow reminded me of blood.
“Leesa?” he asked.
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring out to sea. Sorry, I said to him. Yes, I’ll do it.
“Did you hear the other things I was saying? About us?”
I chewed my lip. There wasn’t a good way to tell him I’d been distracted. My thoughts wandered. I’m sorry.
He looked disappointed but mastered it before he spoke again. “I was getting ahead of myself anyway. So… The note. I’d almost hoped you’d refuse. I hate to put you in danger.”
Smiling a bit sadly, he cupped my cheek and pressed his lips to mine. I felt his breath warm on my cheek; even after a day at sea, he still smelled like spiced wood. Like a cedar chest holding treasures. I wished I’d heard what he’d said about us, but couldn’t very well ask now. I slid my arms around his back and hugged him close before breaking off.
I have to go, I said as I tucked the note into my pants pocket. Iriinet has given the other two girls leave to visit their parents. It’s just the two of us for the next few days.
“Be careful, Leesa,” he said. “If you think you might be spotted, forget the note. You’re far more important than any of this.”
2.
AS IRIINET CARRIED the large platter holding the family’s dinner into the great room, I slipped into the main corridor of the house. I didn’t have much time; the meal had taken longer than usual to prepare. Trader Ulstat’s dogs had brought down a feral hog, and he’d demanded it be well presented. I’d spent at least three hours hurrying back and forth between various cellars and pantries scattered in outbuildings across the grounds. But we weren’t close to finished with tonight’s work. As soon as she finished serving the family, Iriinet would expect to see me scouring pots and wiping down counters.
Silence filled the low-ceilinged corridor. My footsteps echoed even though I tried to move stealthily. Along the walls, nightforged lanterns burned dirty oil. Even with their mystical ability to fracture the flame into thousands of points of light, the glow couldn’t chase the dour mood from the corridor. My fuzzy shadow followed me as I crept along the hallway, bound for the archway leading toward the bedrooms. As I walked, I slid my hand into my pocket and felt for the note. When my fingers reached the seam at the bottom without touching paper, my brows drew together. Maybe I was confused. I must’ve stuffed the note into the other pocket. But I soon discovered that pocket empty, too.
My heart sped. I pressed my back against the wall while I collected myself. I must have missed the note. With one hand, I pulled the wrinkles from my trousers while shoving the other to the bottom of the pocket. I felt around, fingers clawing at the rough linen. Empty. The other pocket was the same.
The note was gone.
Fighting panic, I dashed back toward the kitchens. As I skidded into
the archway, my shoulder clipping the wall, Trader Ulstat stepped from the great room into the corridor. Rot. He was supposed to be eating.
“You. Maid. Send word to the barracks. I need to speak with one of the elite guards.”
I didn’t stop, not even to think a response at him. With luck, he’d decide I hadn’t heard him and would find someone else to carry his message. As I dashed across the kitchen floor, I scanned all around for the scrap of folded paper. The counters were empty. I fell to my hands and knees before the ovens, peering beneath tables and cabinets. No note there either. Once again, I patted the outside of my pockets to make sure I hadn’t somehow missed it. How could the paper have fallen out?
As I shouldered out the back door and onto the network of pathways joining outbuildings and gardens to House Ulstat, I mentally reviewed my movements since leaving Eron. After my scare in the alley, I hadn’t been ready to plunge back into its confines. Instead, I’d taken a longer, safer route. Once inside the House gates, I’d followed a series of footpaths to the bunkhouse I shared with the other servants. It would be hard to retrace that path exactly. But now that I thought about it, hadn’t I felt the crunch of paper when I sat down on my bunk? Yes… I’d still had the note then.
Twilight filled the grounds with shadows, turning flagstones a ghostly gray. As I jogged along the path joining the kitchens to the bunkhouse, I squinted for a glimpse of paper.
“Leesa?” Back in the kitchens, Iriinet called for me. I ignored her. In the morning, I could pantomime an excuse about feeling suddenly sick. But for now, I had to find that note.
You’ll have to scrub the char off the pots on your own. Sorry, Iriinet.
I hadn’t spotted the note by the time I reached the bunkhouse. Running my hands through my hair, I thought about all the trips I’d made across the grounds during the evening, fetching wheels of cheese from one spot, onions from another.
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