Children of a Broken Sky (Redemption Chronicle Book 1)

by Adam J Nicolai

  His heart quickened at the thought. "Are you sure?"

  "I wouldn't have offered otherwise." She peered at him. "It's just a book. It can't hurt you."

  Angbar arched a brow. "Not gonna suck out my soul?" There was an old story, Iis-alac and the Witch's Book. A boy stole a witch's book, but when he opened it, it destroyed his soul. Now that Angbar thought about it, he was pretty sure that one came from scripture; he'd heard it from Lyseira.

  Syntal smiled. "Not that I know of. That's just a story."

  "Yeah," Angbar said, "I thought witches were just stories, too. Now I'm on the road with two of them."

  Syntal nodded a concession. The air was thick with bigger questions, but Angbar didn't know how to ask them. Syntal wrestled with another yawn.

  "It makes you tired?" he asked.

  "Exhausted," Syntal said. "Like you've been awake for days. I think Helix thought there was something wrong with me for awhile; I was always exhausted. But I'm getting used to it, I think. It's a little better today. I just pushed myself too far the other night."

  I'd say so, Angbar thought. Lys said your ears were bleeding.

  "I don't know. Lar'atul said 'seek the safehold.' I think that might be a way to chant without getting so tired. I have no idea how to do it, is the problem."

  "Lar'atul?" It was a strange name; Angbar had never heard it before.

  "Sorry. He wrote the book." She smiled again. "The pirate, remember?"

  Angbar frowned. "Pirate?"

  She laughed. "You don't remember? You kept going on about how he was a pirate, after we found his armor on the shore. At least, I assumed it was his."

  Angbar shook his head. "All I remember is Helix stealing my sword," he said with mock rue.

  "I thought Seth said it was his."

  Angbar waved it off. "Seth was always trying to rile people up."

  "Yeah," Syntal said.

  The name hung between them, drifting with the snow. Angbar grabbed one of the big questions and threw it out.

  "So what happened?"

  "At the cabin?"

  "Yeah."

  She sighed. "It's hard to explain." She groped for the words. "They were too close, essentially. Seth and the wolf. I couldn't tell them apart while I was Ascended." She shook her head. "I mean, I knew they were both there, but I couldn't split them up. I had to command both of them."

  Angbar parsed this. Ascended? Command? He opened his mouth to ask about the words, and her meaning hit him. "Wait... you mean you did it on purpose?"

  "That thing was coming for me. It would've killed me. It was the only thing I could do."

  "But if... couldn't it have killed Seth while he was asleep?"

  Syntal shook her head. "No. The chant was going to command them both. And the other wolf was going after Iggy. I knew it would be all right."

  A sudden wind came up, hurling a thousand icy knives before it died out.

  Angbar swallowed. No, you didn't.

  You didn't know that at all.

  iii. Iggy

  They were surrounded by fields and farmhouses. A half-mile on, Coram's smoke was staining the grey sky black. Iggy had been cautious about leaving the woods, but it was starting to look like the right decision.

  Then a leviathan swallowed the sun.

  "Take hands!" Ignatius called as he grabbed Seth's hand. He turned back to see Angbar at the rear, sprinting to catch up. The snow devoured him, transformed by the wind into a rain of savage darts, and then Iggy couldn't see anything.

  "Take hands!" he shouted again. The storm hurled the words across the plain, roaring. Its fury was incredible, like the full weight of winter expelled from the Earth's lungs in a single, brutal breath.

  He had seen Storm weather. He had seen abrupt weather. He had never seen anything like this.

  He waited as long as he thought he could, to give enough time for Angbar to catch up to Syntal at the rear. Then, before he forgot which way led to the city, he pulled the group forward.

  Snow washed over the road, erasing its edges and flattening the landscape. His face burned with the cold, his cheeks stinging from the whipping snow. He clutched Seth's hand like a lifeline. If he lost it, he might never find it again.

  If he squinted he couldn't see, but if he didn't, the snow tried to stab out his eyes. Did I get turned around? He tossed his head, looking for the sun, but it was gone. There was only wind and snow.

  He remembered a tale Pa had told him, about how Iggy's uncle had died in a blizzard after wandering in a circle around his own home three times.

  Don't, he snarled. The city was right in front of you. It's still there. Don't get turned around. He forced himself to quit searching for the sun, to keep his face turned forward. It's still there.

  Minutes or hours dragged past. He couldn't see the road. His hand was numb; he thought he still had Seth's hand, but he wasn't certain.

  "Is everyone well?" he shouted. The wind killed the words on his lips.

  It's been too long, he realized. I should have seen something by now. A building, a signpost. The air was too cold and too fast; he couldn't breathe.

  How stupid, he thought, to get this far and die in the snow.

  He closed his eyes and tried speaking to the wind, but it was enraged. It was like his father, when he was drunk; it couldn't hear his whisper over its own screaming. So he stopped talking, and just listened. Maybe the wind's shriek would tell him, if he could just hear its words.

  He let it knife through him until he heard fire.

  Behind us. It's behind us. He turned and peered into the roiling white. Nothing. But he had heard fire.

  Blindly, he lurched toward it.

  Never turn in a storm, Pa had said. Never turn when you can't see.

  A crouching giant loomed in the darkness: a building. The lights in its windows were fireflies wrapped in gauze. "There!" he might've shouted. He could only hear the storm.

  When he turned the knob, the door flew in and cracked against the wall. Warmth and brightness assailed him.

  He stumbled into them, still alive.

  "Is everyone well?" he called back. Seth came in behind him, pulling Lyseira. Iggy didn't realize he was holding his breath until Angbar came in at the end of the chain. Thank Akir. Oh, that was close.

  "Close the door, then," a small woman behind the counter called. "Hard enough keeping it warm without the door open."

  Angbar complied. A sign above the door said: The Wagon Wheel.

  "Right then," the innkeep said. "I assume you'll be renting a room?"

  iv. Helix

  The room was warm, with a window and two beds. Angbar was in a steaming tub, groaning extravagantly as he thawed. They had all eaten hot food tonight. Compared to Helix's days in the jail wagon and then on the road, it was the height of luxury. He should've been relaxing.

  He couldn't.

  They had scraped together enough coin between them to cover another meal each and two rooms for two nights. When it was over, they would have nothing. Angbar had talked about performing in the common room to earn a few extra heels; Seth had spoken candidly about stealing food. Iggy seemed to think that once the storm had passed, they'd be able to live off of the land.

  None of them were good options. In truth, they had nowhere to go. The fire crackling in the hearth and the inviting feather beds only drove this reality home. They weren't respite; they were illusion. Beyond them were more freezing nights on the road, going nowhere.

  "Helix," Angbar moaned from the tub, "oh, it's wonderful."

  "M'sai," Helix told him. "I heard you the first seven times. Hurry up so I can take my turn."

  "It's still going," Iggy said from the window. The view was black and swirling; the glass shuddered in its frame. "Probably will be until morning, at least, maybe longer."

  I hope it stops by the day after tomorrow, Helix thought grimly, or we'll be back in it.

  He turned to the bag Syntal had packed for him. He'd been wearing the same clothes for... seven day
s? Eight? He wanted something clean to wear after his bath. He pulled out a haphazard bundle of shirts, and Matthew's letter fell out of them.

  It looked absurdly out of place: a relic from an ancient age. A hundred years ago, Matthew had said, Promise me.

  Helix scoffed and shook his head, but something in him said, I wonder if his wife even knows yet.

  I wonder what they'll tell her.

  That was ridiculous; there was no doubt what they'd tell her. They'd say Helix Smith had murdered her husband and gotten away with it.

  No! I tried to save him! His outrage was as futile now as it had been at the trial, but he couldn't stop it. It wasn't enough that they had tried to kill him. It wasn't enough that they had taken his parents and his girlfriend and his home, that he would never sleep in peace again. They were going to lie about him to Matthew's wife, too.

  "Do you think word has gotten to Keldale?" he said.

  "About you?" Angbar was standing now, the water streaming off him. "About the trial?"

  "Yeah."

  "Not in this," Iggy said. "No one's traveling in this." He considered. "I suppose it depends on how much time they wasted looking for you on the west road."

  "Why would that even matter?" Helix wondered aloud. "How is it possible that they don't know where I am, right now? Marcus can just Commune with Akir to find me."

  "You said he lied about that," Angbar answered as he dried off. "If he lied about what the Communion said, maybe he was lying about being able to do it at all."

  He threw it out casually, but the idea made Helix's head spin. He had never considered the possibility. How many lies did they tell?

  "Let me get dressed and get some fresh water," Angbar said. "Then it's your turn."

  v. Lyseira

  Lyseira had figured it out. She knew what Akir wanted.

  She had acted on faith and her sense of justice when she'd saved Helix, and Akir had rewarded her with the power to keep herself and her friends alive. All the signs since then—Iggy's arrival in time to save them from the blizzard, their encounter with Blane that gave them a place to sleep for the night—were His hand, sheltering them and leading them onward. Even the news of her mother...

  Lyseira's thoughts stumbled as she thought of Mom. They took his fingers, Matthew had told her, his tongue, and his eyes. What were they doing to her mother?

  I never meant any harm to you, she wanted to tell her. I didn't know they'd come for you. God had tried to warn her, with His message from Matthew, but she hadn't seen it.

  She hadn't seen it.

  There was a sob in her chest, clawing to come out. An image of Marcus, smug as a hawk, came to her.

  You, she seethed. The sob died; its dry bones turned to tinder. You think you can get away with this? Akir will take everything from you. She drew a shuddering breath, a fire smoldering in her belly, and picked up her scattered thoughts.

  Even the news of her mother had served to help her understand. They couldn't go back, not by themselves. But Akir didn't want her to simply run away. He wanted the sinners punished.

  Her first instinct—to tell the Fatherlord about Marcus and Elmoor—had been the right one. When He knew, He would serve justice.

  A knock came at the door. "It's us," Seth said.

  She glanced at Syntal, who had just finished brushing her hair. The other girl nodded.

  "It's open," Lyseira called.

  The boys filed in. Seth crossed to the window and checked the lock while the others took up places against the wall.

  Angbar drew a deep breath. "Let me be the first to congratulate us all," he said, "on smelling much better." A rumble of laughter came from the floor beneath them; there was some kind of show happening in the common room. He glanced at the floor, startled.

  "Listen," Lyseira said. "I know what we need to do. When the blizzard lets up—"

  "I'm going to Keldale," Helix broke in.

  Lyseira stumbled, her speech forgotten. "What?"

  "It might be dangerous," Helix said. "I might not make it out. I don't know. But Matthew gave me a letter before he died, and I swore I'd get it to his wife. She's in Keldale."

  Seth glowered. "So hire a courier."

  "We can't even afford food. I can't afford a courier." Helix waved. "And that's not the point. The point is, I need to see her. I need her to know I didn't do it."

  Lyseira's mouth was moving, but it wasn't saying anything. "Helix..." she finally managed.

  "She might be in danger, Lyseira. They killed her husband, and you heard what Iggy said they did to our families."

  "But Keldale is huge," Lyseira said, her wits returning. "Basica Tenuor is one of the biggest temples in the Valley!"

  "It's a huge risk," Seth agreed.

  "M'sai," Helix said. "Let me start again." He put up his hands. "I'm going. I'm not asking anyone else to come along. It might..." He sighed. "I should probably split off anyway. I'm putting you all in danger right now."

  "Now?" Lyseira aped, incredulous. "It's been dangerous from the start!"

  "Fine," Helix said. "Then maybe it's time for it to start getting safer for the rest of you."

  "Helix," Angbar cut in, "why are you doing this again? We already talked about this. We risked as much as you did. There's no going back, not for any of us."

  A forlorn wind rattled the window. Another round of laughter roared beneath them.

  "Please," Lyseira said. "Just... I've been thinking a lot, too. And I did save your life. Will you listen?" If she could just explain it, he would understand.

  Helix's jaw was set. He glanced at the wall, then waved her on. "M'sai. But I know what I need to do."

  "M'sai." Lyseira stood up. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but Akir has been guiding us since the start. Marcus and Elmoor are corrupt—we all know that. I think this... all of this... might be happening because God wants them to get caught. He wants them to know justice."

  Helix was still frowning, but he twirled his finger. Go on.

  "You're still talking about going to Tal'aden," Angbar said. "About talking to the Fatherlord."

  Lyseira met his eyes. "I am. It's not easy to know the will of Akir, but think of everything that's happened so far. Iggy showing up just in time to save us from the blizzard. Akir granting me the miracles that have kept us alive. At every turn, He's been with us. I think I was wrong to want to go back—I'll admit that. But He's urging us on. He wants justice."

  The distant crowd laughed again. Someone hooted.

  Helix sputtered. "A minute ago you were scoffing at Keldale because it has such a big temple. Tal'aden has the biggest temple in the world."

  "That's different," Lyseira pointed out. "The Fatherlord is in Tal'aden. He's the one who needs to know."

  "Lyseira..." Helix rubbed his temples. "You don't know that He'll help us. Matthew thought the Church was corrupt through-and-through."

  "The signs—" Lyseira started.

  "What if you're misreading the signs?" Angbar said, not ungently. "I understand what you're saying, but it seems to me the only clear sign we have right now is that Helix's letter from Matthew suddenly fell out of his travel sack."

  Lyseira choked back a curse. That's just a coincidence, she wanted to snap, but even she could see that was useless. The same argument could be made about everything she said. She knew she was right—she knew it—but how could she convince them?

  "Do you have anything to say?" Seth said, looking at Syntal.

  She was sitting on the bed, her book open in front of her. "I'm going with Helix," she said, without looking up.

  "It would take months to reach Tal'aden on foot," Iggy said. "You'd freeze to death before you got there. We need to figure out how we're going to survive this winter. All these other ideas about justice and what-have-you need to wait."

  Angbar held up a hand. "What if she's willing to help us? Matthew's wife? What if she's able to put us up for the winter?"

  "She thinks Helix killed her husband," Seth said.

 
; "No, she doesn't." Helix glanced at Angbar. "Not yet. And she was his wife; she probably has no love for the Church herself."

  And that's a good thing? Lyseira wanted to retort, but she held her tongue, fuming. She was losing this argument.

  Iggy considered. "Really, where else can we go? We need shelter, and soon. If she won't help us, at least it'll be warmer inside the city walls." He clucked. "But I don't even know how we'd make that trip, Helix. The roads are going to be impassable, and even if they weren't, Keldale is weeks away on foot."

  "Well, we can't stay here," Helix retorted. "We can't afford it. Day after tomorrow, we're back on the road."

  ~ ~

  After the boys left, Lyseira leaned against the door and tried to keep her anger in check.

  I should go to Tal'aden myself. Seth would come with me. Iggy's arguments about the winter struggled to be heard in her head, but she ran over them. The Fatherlord will help us. Why can't they see it?

  But it was reflexive outrage, and in her heart, she knew it.

  She looked at Syntal. The girl was still on the bed, her palms open and blazing with light. Her eyes were becoming more real by the moment.

  Lyseira glared, irritation grating at her. I wonder when she started doing that. Lyseira had spent years trying to summon light. It was one of the simplest miracles an initiate could work. Was she in her room with light coming out of her hands during all those nights I tried? Was she able to do it the whole time we were both learning First Tongue from The Abbot?

  The jealousy was so fierce it startled her. "You shouldn't do that here," she snapped. "Someone could see."

  "I have to practice," the other girl answered. The light made the black of her hair even deeper.

  "Someone will notice your eyes," Lyseira pressed. "Stop."

  The light winked out. Syntal stood, staring at her feet.

  Quit being petty, Lyseira told herself. Suddenly, she felt like an ass. "Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I—"

  "Sh." Syntal's eyes were glued to the floor.

  Lyseira followed her gaze, expecting a bug or a mouse, but saw nothing. She glanced a question at her.

  Downstairs, another burst of laughter dissolved into scattered applause and cheering.

  Without looking up, Syntal said, "Someone's chanting downstairs."