Proper age for what? I asked, curious. And if you’re implying Ashiril has a talent for anything but complaining, I’m afraid you’re confused.
“You’ll test Ashiril for the ability?” Lady Ulstat said.
“No need,” Trader Yiltak said. “I already have. My daughter handed her a kerchief with nightsilk threaded through the weave. Ashiril sensed it immediately, and peered closely in search of the strands.”
Trader Ulstat’s brows drew together. “You did this without our permission?”
I like you, I said to Trader Yiltak.
“It was convenient, and allowed us to ascertain her abilities without getting your family’s hopes up.”
Actually, I thought to Trader Ulstat, he wouldn’t have mentioned this voyage at all if Ashiril didn’t have what he needs. You know that right?
I sat the platter holding the venison on a table at the side of the room, and began slicing off portions. As Iriinet had instructed, I served Trader Yiltak first, pouring gravy over the lightly steaming meat.
“When would she leave?” Trader Ulstat asked.
“The expedition sails in two weeks,” Trader Yiltak said. “I must be honest. If we don’t find an acolyte before then, Vaneesi will have to work unprotected. I’m not sure we’d risk it.”
Are you saying you’d trust Ashiril to guard your daughter? Did Trader Yiltak know who he was talking to? I stabbed the serving fork into another thick slice and slapped it onto a plate for Trader Ulstat.
“As an acolyte, are you suggesting she’d be answerable to your daughter?” Lady Ulstat asked. “Ashiril is not fond of constraints.”
Ashiril flashed Vaneesi an insincere smile. “I especially would not enjoy orders from someone my age.”
Unless that person is Roakiev, I thought. Over the last few days, I’ve noticed the way you rush to obey him. Has he threatened you? Does he know one of your secrets?
“Why can’t she be of equal value to the expedition? A full nightcaller with all the privileges.” Trader Ulstat said.
Because she’s a spoiled, vain sixteen-year-old? I leaned over the table and refilled Trader Yiltak’s water goblet before returning to the meat. Lady Ulstat’s slice needed to be exceedingly thin because she didn’t like the tearing sensation when chewing thick bites.
“She has no training,” Vaneesi said with an air of superiority. As she spoke, I noticed Roakiev staring at her intently. Almost hungrily.
What would possibly interest her in you? I asked him.
“The meat grows cold while we wait for you to serve it,” Lady Ulstat said, staring at me in annoyance.
I ducked my head and sawed at the haunch. If Roakiev would loan me that nightforged dagger, maybe I could manage to both keep the slice thin and cut it quickly. But cutting with this dull blade was like trying to fell a tree with a butter knife. Finally, the knife scraped the platter, and I lifted the slice free, setting it gently on a plate for the lady. When I carried it to her, she grabbed my wrist.
“Nothing from this table reaches other ears,” she whispered. For such a gaunt woman, her grip was surprisingly strong. I shrugged and fluttered my fingers before my mouth.
“Yes, I know you can’t speak.” She narrowed her eyes. “Regardless, if I hear others whispering of this, particularly the negotiations, I’ll have no choice but to assume you found a way to communicate. Now hurry up with the service.”
I finished slicing the meat quickly. A strained silence had fallen over the table. It seemed strange that they’d stop speaking just because of Lady Ulstat’s words. Maybe something she’d said had reminded them of another conflict. I knew very little about the relationship between trader Houses; until deciding to learn what I could for Eron’s sake, I’d had no interest in changing that.
As I placed Vaneesi’s meat before her, she tapped her finger on the table. “Actually, Father, I have an idea,” she said.
Returning to the side table, I couldn’t help but notice her body language. By all appearances, Roakiev’s interest in Vaneesi was mutual. Under his gaze, color had risen in her cheeks, and her eyes were half-lidded.
Are you really that stupid? I asked her.
“I would be willing to train my acolyte on this voyage,” she said. “Same as mother trained me. You said we needed to find ways to strengthen our expedition. But we can’t create many more nightcrafted goods if I’m the only nightcaller.”
I wonder if any of you are going to explain what a nightcaller does, I thought. From what I gathered, they collected something that turned ordinary items into nightcrafted goods.
“Perhaps we could talk about this in private,” her father said.
Vaneesi shook her head and sat tall. “We meet too much in private lately. And as a result, your plans move slowly.”
Trader Yiltak had gone red in the face. Vaneesi was clearly ruining whatever strategy he’d devised.
“The acolyte is supposed to watch over you while you’re in the calling trance,” he said, voice low.
“I have an idea for that, too,” she said.
“I suppose you want to discuss that in front of our hosts as well,” her father said. Tension knotted his shoulders. There was definitely more at stake here than a negotiation over acolyte duties. But I doubted I’d learn anything more about it now.
“The acolyte does other things too, like help guide the nightstrands. That’s why we need girls with the nightcalling talent. But anyone can watch over callers when they enter the trance. Provided they’re trustworthy, of course.” She looked pointedly at Roakiev. “As you know, nightcallers are quite… vulnerable at that point.”
Could you be any more obvious? I thought to her.
“I’d like to call the position a sentinel,” she continued, ignoring her father’s cold stare.
As I set his plate before him, I could sense Roakiev’s hunger to know Vaneesi better. I could almost smell it. It made me sick.
I nearly forgot to serve Ashiril. When my eyes fell on Roakiev’s sister, it was all I could do to contain my amusement. The conversation had started with her as its central topic. But at this point, the others at the table seemed to have forgotten she existed.
As I delivered her plate, I made an extra effort to arrange it before her. No one else noticed the attention I paid to assuring her satisfaction with the dish, my readiness to add more gravy or cut a different portion. But Ashiril did. As I fussed over her, the glower faded from her face.
She continued to watch as I returned to the haunch of meat and left the serving utensils before bowing and leaving the room.
You see? I thought. We could be good together.
A day after the Yiltaks departed, I was on my way from the bunkhouse to the kitchens when Ashiril burst from the back door of the great room and stomped down a path, followed by her mother. This looked interesting. I glanced at the kitchen door—Iriinet could manage alone for another few minutes. I slipped in behind the pair, walking just close enough to hear their voices. Fortunately, The Ulstat women had no sense of awareness of their surroundings.
“Ungrateful flatterers,” Ashiril spat.
The Yiltaks? I asked. Did they withdraw their invitation? I smiled at the thought. After Vaneesi had formally announced Roakiev as her sentinel, the entire household had seemed to float, buoyed by their victory. Both siblings joining the expedition as critical members… Not even the other traders from the Yiltaks’ home island had achieved such prominence.
“You can’t be blamed,” Lady Ulstat said. “They likely have duties. Why else would they refuse?”
So not the Yiltaks. It must be the invitations you extended for a sentinel. Unlike Vaneesi, who lived on an island with many trader families, Ashiril was forced to invite from her so-called friends among the crafters and merchants. The Ulstats were the only traders on our island.
“But we’ve known each other since we were young,” Ashiril said. “How could they abandon me after such long friendships?”
Actually, I heard that your parents p
aid their parents to bring them to play with you.
Her mother shrugged. “I don’t know, Ashiril. But we’ll think of something. Worst-case, your father can force some commoner to go.”
As I turned to head for the kitchens, I smiled. That would not be necessary. I made an extra effort to fawn over Ashiril at dinner. By afternoon the following day, she demanded I serve her as sentinel.
We packed quickly, boarding the Yiltak’s ship, Fortune’s Pride, within the ten-day.
Six weeks later, the expedition made landfall on the volcano, Ioene.
Part Two
1.
“LEESA!” ASHIRIL CALLED from behind me.
Do you realize how much your voice grates?
I took a deep breath as I turned from the sea. We’d been on the island for four moonrises, and I hadn’t grown tired of looking at the ocean. The water reminded me of black velvet rippling toward a star-spattered horizon. Sometimes, I fantasized about describing it to Eron. But to earn that chance, I needed to focus.
Ashiril shuffled impatiently at the edge of the beach, feet crunching in crushed pumice. Behind her, Ioene smoldered. Dull red in the black of the long-night, the mountain towered beneath a shimmering curtain of blue-green aurora.
“Quicken your pace. Vaneesi is waiting.”
Don’t you mean Roakiev? You could care less about delaying Vaneesi.
Ashiril’s fear of her brother had grown stronger during the voyage. Maybe the close quarters on the ship had given her more chances to notice the nasty gleam in his eyes. More likely, he’d continued to threaten her.
When I joined her, Ashiril curled her lip and handed me an oiled-leather backpack. I accepted it without reacting, obedient as always. I’d played my part so well that Ashiril now relied on me, unthinking. To her, I was a dog from the kennels. A tool used in the hunt.
The volcano rumbled as we climbed away from the beach. Wicked thorn bushes with ink-black leaves lined the path. Ashiril muttered curses when her trousers snagged. I hurried to free her and then took the lead so that I could hold the branches aside.
Roakiev and Vaneesi stood at the edge of the encampment, a collection of tents and simple stone-walled buildings roofed with spare sailcloth. Every expedition, the Yiltaks added more permanent structures. Already, workers were mixing mortar from ash and seawater, preparing to raise another wall.
Vaneesi spared me a glance before turning her attention to Roakiev. As far as I could tell, Ashiril still had no idea about their relationship. It was obvious to me, but I’d had lots of practice understanding body language. When Roakiev touched Vaneesi, her pulse throbbed in her delicate neck. And whenever he wasn’t touching her, his eyes crawled over her body, jealous. Hungry.
I found the whole thing revolting.
“We could have walked halfway across the island in the time we’ve waited for you,” Roakiev said.
But then you’d probably be lost. Fortunately, we’ve spared you that embarrassment.
Ashiril wilted at his words. Her gaze fell to her feet, and her hands clutched the folds of her cloak.
Vaneesi, dressed in a thin, sleeveless tunic, smiled blandly. “Shall we?”
Lips twisting in a smile, Roakiev offered her his elbow. She slid her hand into the crook of his arm, turning the motion into a caress. Ashiril was oblivious.
As we filed away from the village, the light from the encampment’s lanterns faded. The moon was just a slivered crescent hanging above the sea, but the shimmer of the aurora lit our path. Curving up and away from the sea, the trail narrowed as it wound between jagged boulders, ending at the edge of a frozen river of lava. Vaneesi clambered onto the sea of black stone and continued on, followed closely by her lover.
“How far are you going to drag us?” Ashiril asked.
When Vaneesi turned, her eyes glinted in the red glow from the volcano. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Ashiril halted. “I thought we were supposed to be calling the strands.”
As if you care about your duties. During her first two times helping Vaneesi call the mystical nightstrands, Ashiril had been reluctant at best, bristling every time Vaneesi tried to teach her something. At least I’d finally learned what exactly a nightcaller did. After falling into the calling trance, she gathered the nightstrands and confined them in a brass box called a reliquary. Later, Vaneesi took the collection of strands to the crafters and blacksmiths to be infused into their creations.
“Do I need to remind you of our respective status on this expedition, acolyte?” Vaneesi asked.
Roakiev returned to the edge of the flow and offered a hand to his sister. “You’ll enjoy this.”
His brows lowered as his stare locked with Ashiril’s, commanding her to obey. When he latched her wrist, his fingernails dug down between the tendons.
The small group continued on, leaving me to hoist myself onto the flow.
It’s all right, I’ll catch up, I thought as I trotted across the whorls of frozen stone.
“There,” Vaneesi said, pointing.
Peeking out from the jumble of scree and tangled brush, the dome of a roof was unmistakable. Even my breath caught. Over the course of the voyage, I’d learned that it had been one-hundred-thirty-six years since a trading vessel from House Yiltak had been blown off course and tossed onto the reef at Ioene. Coming ashore in search of supplies, the crew had discovered ancient forges built by a long-lost civilization. Since that first voyage, no other buildings had been found.
“Tides,” Ashiril whispered.
“We haven’t been in yet,” Roakiev said. “Vaneesi wanted to, but I insisted you should be here.”
As before, the traders helped one another descend from the river of stone, leaving me to manage on my own. No path led from the edge of the flow to the structure; Roakiev pulled his blade from its sheath and cut a break through the tangle of brush. Soon, we stood in a small huddle before the dark rectangle that may have once supported a door. On either side, columns rose, ghost-gray in the night.
Ashiril nodded at me, a request for the backpack carrying her supplies.
Would you like anything specific? I swung the pack off my shoulder and pulled on the leather tab that cinched the drawstring. When I looked at her with questioning eyes, she huffed.
“Sometimes I wonder at the wisdom of choosing a mute as sentinel.” Yanking the pack from me, she pulled out a small lantern.
Actually, you haven’t regretted it once. You’re just showing off.
“Wait, Ashiril,” Roakiev said. “It’s Vaneesi’s discovery. She has the right to go first.”
Again, he squeezed her arm, digging harshly at the flesh with his pointed nails.
I think you’re worried it might be dangerous, and you want Vaneesi to take the risk. No matter how much you desire her, your loyalty lies with your House. Ashiril would be flattered if she knew.
After kindling her own lamp, Vaneesi held it before her. When she stepped inside, the warm glow from the lantern bounced off walls and glinted on the beads sewn to her tunic.
“There’s not much,” she said. “Except…” She took a few hurried steps forward and set down the lantern. When she crouched before a small stone plinth, I caught a better glimpse of the interior. I’d peeked into the forges shortly after we dropped anchor. As with those buildings, inscriptions covered the walls inside Vaneesi’s discovery. But where the writing surrounding the furnaces seemed to flow, the lettering in this new building slashed across the walls. The runes seemed somehow malevolent. A shiver traveled my spine.
Vaneesi cradled something in her hands. When she turned sideways, allowing the lantern’s glow to fall upon it, I leaned forward, immediately taken by the carving. Chipped of glassy obsidian, a small rendering of a woman lay in her palms. Wisps of smoke swirled around the figurine. But Vaneesi’s next exhalation dispelled them.
Dashing inside, Ashiril fell to her knees before the statuette. Lips parted in awe, she extended her hand toward the artifact.
> For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Even Roakiev, so often aloof, appeared stunned.
Is a statue really that fascinating? I thought. But though I tried to make light of their reactions, something was wrong. Ashiril’s enthralled gaze seemed unnatural. My skin crawled.
Abruptly, Vaneesi clapped her hand over the statuette and stuffed it in a velvet satchel she wore over her shoulder. As if a spell had been broken, Ashiril shook free from her trance. She stood, smoothing her clothing.
“We tell no one until we have more information, agreed?” Vaneesi said. As if suddenly realizing I was there, her gaze shot to me, eyes narrowing.
Yes. I’m clearly the one you need to worry about, I thought as I looked at her blankly.
“Even if Ashiril’s sentinel could speak, she wouldn’t dare.” Roakiev stalked toward me, grabbed me under the chin, and tilted my face up to his. “Right?”
Neck wrenched at an awkward angle, I managed a small, painful nod of assent.
“Good,” he said, his nails drawing across my jaw as he released me.
Ashiril stepped from the chamber, blinking as if disoriented. When he noticed his sister swaying on her feet, Roakiev cast me a sharp glare. Remembering myself, I rushed to her side and cupped her elbow. Ashiril’s skin was strangely hot.
Behind us, the volcano fumed.
2.
WHILE RETURNING, WE stopped on the river of frozen lava for Vaneesi to call the nightstrands. As she pulled her reliquary from the velvet satchel, her hand paused and her eyes widened. The figurine again.
What’s it doing to you? I asked.
Blinking, she fought against whatever feelings the statuette had worked upon her. In something of a daze, she summoned Ashiril with a gesture. For once Ashiril didn’t object.
Side-by-side, the girls performed the Chant of the Five and fell into the nightcalling trance. As sentinel, Roakiev ought to have been watching the volcano for the threat of eruptions, and he should have been standing close to Vaneesi in case she fainted due to the trance. Instead, he sat on a twisted hump of frozen lava and trimmed his cuticles with the blade of his boot knife while I attempted to stand as sentinel to them both.
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