Nightforged (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 1)

by Carrie Summers

  “Sure.” Reluctantly, I accepted his hand. We strolled to the water line, me swaying like a drunk, then turn to follow the line of foam laid by the waves. The surf was gentle tonight, rolling ashore as if caressing the island.

  Near the lava flow, the warm steam felt delicious on my face. My aching muscles could stand for a good long soak in hot water. Once the mussels had cooled, he pried the top half of the shell off one and offered it to me.

  “I’m surprised you found me so soon,” I said after I swallowed the meat in two bites.

  Raav’s feet scuffed in the gravel. “Gut feeling, I guess. I saw the cliff and figured it was the sort of obstacle you’d take on. Anyway, ten days isn’t really that quick. Feels long, considering our situation.”

  Ten days? How long was I in that crack? It had to be two or three at least. No wonder I was so weak.

  “I’m sorry about Paono, Lilik. I wanted you to know that he defended you in the beginning, got hurt for it, too. He cares about you. Or he did, very much.” He stepped in front of me, laying hands on my shoulders. “Something tipped him to the other side. He’s with Mieshk now. An acolyte like the others, saying that you brought this—” Raav gestured toward Ioene’s burning cone. “—down on us. That it’s your fault we’re marooned here. I think those are Katrikki’s ideas coming out of his mouth, personally. They’ve been spending time together. A lot of time.”

  . . . Katrikki? I nearly staggered with the shock.

  “But we’ve been friends since . . . all our lives I guess.”

  Raav looked to the side. His eyes glinted in the starlight, and the steam that had condensed on his cheeks shone, highlighting the strong, straight lines of his face. “Boys can be stupid, Lilik. Sometimes other things become more important than friendship.”

  My scream was locked in my throat—this couldn't be happening. Could he be making it up? Trying to put a wedge between Paono and me? What reason could he possibly have for that?

  “Katrikki convinced the crew to stop beating him. I think that's why they started . . . spending time together.”

  My mind locked on an image of Paono and Katrikki standing together. Kissing. I wanted to throw up.

  “Did any of you actually invite him to come?” I was casting for minnows, hoping that there’d been a mistake.

  “I’ll tell you the truth because I want you to trust me. No, we didn’t. The things he said recently . . . We didn’t want to risk telling him our plans. But if you want, we can try to go back for him.”

  My hand strayed toward Paono’s pendant, but I jerked it away. I shook my head—if I believed what Raav said, it was too late. Paono didn't care about me now that Katrikki had her ice-blond tresses wrapped around him. Or at least, there was too much doubt for me to endanger my new allies. Eyes on the horizon, I forced away the hurt.

  “Do you know that Mieshk has the Effigy?” I asked.

  “No. What? How?”

  “I saw she had it when she attacked the captain. I—I lost the figurine before we got to Ioene. Or rather, she stole it.”

  “She stole it?” His face hardened.

  I shrugged. “Looks like it. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you the truth. I was scared.”

  He looked down at my upturned face, eyes intense and unblinking. After a moment, he spoke. “I’ve kept your first secret. I’ll keep this one, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You trust me, then?”

  Swallowing, I nodded.

  “Then will you let me know what’s going on with your hands?”

  I didn’t see a reason to hide it. Besides, Raav might have ideas about what was happening to me. I turned my palms upward.

  He traced the shimmering scars with a fingertip. “What happened?”

  “I fell when I was climbing.”

  “And they healed like this?”

  “Yeah.” I turned and lifted up my shirt, exposing the knobs of my spine. “Is it the same?”

  Raav’s breath sucked in; I should have warned him before starting to remove my clothing.

  He ran a finger down my spine. I shivered.

  “Yes. The same,” he whispered.

  I tugged my shirt down. It took me a moment to find my words. “I think it might have to do with the nightstrands.”

  “Maybe.” Raav cleared his throat and glanced back at the fire. “Should we go back?”

  He brushed the hair off my cheek. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “You think she’s using it? It’s supposed to go inside a reliquary.”

  He shrugged. “Only the Yiltaks know the figurine’s history. Maybe there’s more to its abilities. Maybe she’s using it to manipulate the strands in other ways.”

  Just what I’d been thinking. “Forcing them onto me, you mean?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe they came to you for protection from her.”

  The whisper in my mind was so loud that I stumbled.

  Yes.

  Chapter Twenty

  I WOKE TO a firm hand on my shoulder.

  “Lilik, we have to go.” Raav’s voice was quiet but urgent.

  I barely remembered falling asleep. After eating, I’d relaxed in the hot sea water. After, when I’d almost fallen into the fire, the others had helped me to bed in the cave.

  “Now? Huh?” My eyes were pasted shut.

  Muscles I’d never felt before hurt when I tried to sit. With a hand against my lower back, Raav pushed me up. Knuckles digging into my eye sockets, I rubbed them clear. Blinked. Loose on my lap, my open hands cast a thin white glow. Heiklet and Islilla stared, curious. I closed my fingers over my palms. Tkira ignored everything but the small pile of equipment under her hands.

  “It’s Makal,” Raav said “He’s gone. Taken the raft.”

  “Wha—”

  Tkira glared toward the exit. “It’s my fault. He overheard us planning and came crying about his da. I know Brik. Wasn’t surprised to hear that he beat up his son.”

  “No, it’s not your fault,” Heiklet said. “None of us objected to him. Anyway, once he knew our plan, we were better off bringing him than leaving him to squeal.”

  I inhaled to clear my muddy thoughts. “So you think he went back to guide the others to us?”

  Raav’s eyes flashed. “I know he did.”

  I clenched my fists, snuffing their light. Makal had been causing trouble since we’d passed between the Istanik Harbor guardstones. If I’d been thinking more clearly, I might have questioned why he’d come along.

  “Then they know where we are,” I said.

  “Everyone else is packed,” Raav said. “We waited to wake you until we were almost ready. There are some of those nuts left—”

  “Wait. You ate them?”

  “Sure.” Raav grimaced and pretended to swallow something foul. “Bitter, but we can’t be picky anymore, right?”

  Oh no. They wouldn't be happy in a couple hours. “Next time, ask before you eat something. It will save you a bellyache.”

  Raav cast an uneasy glance at the other traders. None seemed to have heard.

  “You’ll live.”

  As I glanced around the shelter, I recalled the sense of homecoming I’d felt yesterday. I’d made this place into a sanctuary, found a way to be strong here, even alone. But now we were moving on again. I wondered how many times this would happen. Would we always be running?

  No use worrying about it now. I piled the remaining nuts inside my cloak and scanned the cave for anything else I should take.

  Outside, a shout rose over the rumble of the surf.

  “ . . . got your raft back. Just let us be!”

  Rot. That sounded like Gaff. Heiklet and I crowded out the door, leaving Raav and Tkira to follow.

  The scene on the beach was chaos. Savage and screaming, Mieshk’s followers splashed from the sea, half a dozen or more either in the water or on shore already. Mieshk stood alone on the raft, torch in one hand, scepter in the other.

  I yelled and ran for Gaff, standing alon
e between the campfire and the rucksacks the others had packed. My friends’ feet pounded beside me.

  We fell upon our gear, flinging packs aside in search of anything that would serve as a weapon. Gaff snared his crutch in one hand and clutched a rock in the other while Tkira twirled a heavy stick like a club. Islilla moved slightly behind, ready with a sharp stone.

  Upon reaching the line of seaweed that marked high tide, Mieshk’s followers stopped, brandishing fishing spears and clubs. Mieshk, unsteady on the raft’s rocking platform, raised her arms higher.

  Heiklet circled behind Gaff and Tkira. She grabbed a bundle of foilwood twigs and shoved them into the fire to light the ends. I searched the area for rocks. Finding nothing, I came up with a double handful of gravel.

  “There she is!” a follower yelled, pointing at me. “The one that done this!”

  “Consorting with the renegade—they are all traitors! Bind them!” Mieshk shrieked.

  “She is not a god,” Raav yelled as he rushed from the shelter. “After this, she won’t even be an heir. Think about this!”

  He’d found the sleeves I’d torn from my jacket and shoved rocks inside, knotting the cuffs to secure them. When he whirled the weapons around, the heavy ends made a whooshing sound in the air.

  “Lilik, Heiklet, Islilla, run! We’ll hold them off.” Gaff yelled.

  I would not abandon my friends. Instead, I edged closer to Tkira.

  Mieshk’s men spread out. They carried rope along with their weapons. Behind the row of men, Makal wore a vicious grin. Anger flashed, hot, through my body—all sense had fled these people when the Evaeni sank.

  “What is wrong with you?” Islilla screamed, stepping onto a boulder. “This isn’t how Kiriilti—”

  “They’re resisting,” Mieshk shrilled. “You are free to use all necessary force. Any man that takes a prisoner earns double rations and my blessing.”

  The men roared and attacked. Raav, Gaff, and Tkira closed ranks into a tight knot. Heiklet brandished her burning twigs. When the attackers drew close, I threw my gravel. It bounced harmlessly off a crewman’s chest.

  Frantic, I pawed through our equipment. We had rucksacks, water bottles. No spear guns. No daggers. I yanked a cheese knife from one of the packs only to fumble it and watch while Gaff accidentally kicked it away. Scrambling, I tore through strewn packs and the scattered remains of the campfire in search of something heavy to swing.

  After less than a second, they were on us. The grunts of hand to hand fighting filled my ears, the rasp of gravel over leather. Islilla cried out when something—a thrown rock?—smacked her injured arm. I leaped to put myself between her and the attackers.

  A sickening crunch brought the scuffle to a sudden halt. One of Mieshk’s men crumpled.

  Even in the dark and from ten paces away, I could see the caved hollow in his skull, the blood, black in Ioene’s glow, that spilled down his face. Raav stood over him, eyes white-rimmed and face stricken. He dropped his makeshift bolo onto the corpse at his feet.

  The hiss of the lava flow seemed to swell. Even Mieshk stared without speaking.

  Heiklet ran forward and shoved an attacker. “Just leave us!”

  In the following moments, Islilla sprinted to the fire and grabbed one of our rucksacks, staggering under the weight. I dashed over, swallowing back vomit.

  Raav had killed a man.

  He had to have known the damage his weapon could do, right? Fight them off . . . that’s all we’d intended. Just scare them away so we could escape. Not murder.

  I grabbed the rucksack from Islilla and slung it over my shoulder. Raav was still frozen over the dead man as if paralyzed by his own violence. Waking from their own shock, the remaining attackers shifted, dropped into fighting crouches. I dashed forward and dragged Raav by his shirt. He stumbled backward, still staring, with his remaining weapon swinging back and forth in a tight-clenched fist.

  A click of metal on metal, and one of the fishing spears whizzed through the air, barely missing my shoulder.

  “Run!” I yelled. My group grabbed our gear, turned, and fled with Raav and Tkira guarding the rear against another advance. Mieshk’s men gave chase, but their steps faltered. They no longer had the heart to blindly throw themselves at Raav and his skull-crushing stones.

  When we reached the thicket of night foliage, I crashed through first, leading the way into Ioene’s arms. By the time we’d gone another hundred paces, sounds of pursuit had vanished.

  After staggering across scree and thicket and detouring wide around steaming vents, we stepped between a pair of standing boulders and out onto a wide plain of cracked earth. Dead rock, a lava flow frozen long ago, stretched across Ioene’s flank, twisted whorls and deep gashes where the molten stone had cooled. I ran my hand across the striations where Ioene’s blood had hardened. My palm tickled when the scars touched stone.

  Heiklet collapsed to a seat on the rough ground. “Sorry, everyone. I need a rest.” Her hand quivered when she brushed the hair from her forehead.

  “We all do,” I said. In truth, I was surprised Heiklet and Islilla had made it so far without complaint. Traders were used to balancing ledgers and reading navigation charts, not trekking across the wilderness. Even fleet captains simply stood behind the wheelhouse and directed a helmsman to follow bearings. As tired as I felt, Heiklet and Islilla—and maybe even Raav—must have been exhausted.

  Gaff grunted and tossed his crutch aside as he sat. The trouser leg he folded over the stump of his knee had loosened; he leaned forward to fix the ties. “No one following anyway. Raav saw to that.”

  An awkward hush descended on the group. No one made eye contact with Raav, who remained standing, arms crossed. He stared out over the ocean, his face was wooden in profile, unreadable.

  How would I feel in his situation? I’d probably be crying, tearing my hair out with the guilt. But Raav just stood there, as if daring us to judge him. I fought the urge to edge away from him.

  Tkira swung a pack off her shoulder. “We need a plan.”

  She’d directed this comment at Gaff, which made sense. The adults would consider themselves the leaders due to age. And the traders would also assume they deserved the authority, due to status. In fact, I was probably the only person in the group who didn't expect to lead.

  “They’ll come after us again,” Raav said, eyes still on the sea. “They won’t let Anker die without a response.”

  The horror that had been bubbling away deep in my belly rose to the surface. “You knew him?”

  “I worked with him installing lanterns after we arrived. He was a blacksmith. Came from Araok. Yes, I knew him.” He whirled to face us, his gaze tossed out blazing cinders. “Go ahead and say it. I’m a murderer. That’s what you all are thinking.”

  “Raav, I—”

  “Don’t make excuses, Lilik. It’s obvious. So why don’t we have this out now.”

  Islilla stood. She sucked in a deep breath, filling her bird-boned chest.

  “You killed a man, and you don’t seem to care. And now it’s on all our heads.”

  Raav nodded. “Anyone else?”

  Tkira had unloaded the contents of her pack, spreading out water flasks, a packet of jerky, a knife, and a blanket. The second mate turned the hammer over, testing its heft. “You could have swung at his knees instead of his head. We were trying to avoid being taken back by that Ulstat wench. Not trying to start a war.”

  At the mention of war, the others shifted uncomfortably. Was that what this would come to? Marooned up here with little chance of survival, we’d make matters worse by warring among ourselves? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, it hadn’t seemed possible that a nightcaller would name herself an ancestor-god.

  I watched Raav’s face, the way he stared the others down. Though his face was locked in anger, I thought I saw hurt lurking beneath. No one had bothered to ask him anything. Instead, they’d simply accused.

  “Did you mean it, Raav?” I asked. “Or was it a
n accident?”

  He uncrossed his arms. “Thank you for asking. No—” He glared at the group. “—I didn’t mean to swing at his head. I’m not a fighter. I was just doing my best to protect us. Anker is dead. I considered him a friend. But now all I’ll remember is how his eyes looked when I smashed his skull.”

  His eyes might have been wet—I couldn’t tell in the dark. The night air was warm on my skin, stirred by the pulsing heat in Ioene’s heart. Even so, I felt hot waves of emotion washing off him. His glare shattered into a plea for acceptance, and before I stopped to think, I was on my feet with arms wrapped around him.

  Raav’s hands fell on my lower back. He clutched me close, pressing his face into my hair. Damp breath fell on my scalp, and his heart thudded against my cheek.

  Metal scraped across stone, a hollow ringing sound. As if to signal an end to the matter, Tkira began fussing with the contents of another pack. “Two blacksmith hammers. A reel of fishing line and two hooks. Six water skins, two blankets, and a spare overcoat. Three bandages. A nightforged dagger—they’ll be angry we took that—and two boning knives. Anyone think to grab a flint and steel, or are we too damn stupid?”

  “Least we’ve got the glowy hands,” Gaff said casually. “Won’t have trouble seeing in the dark.”

  A flush crept into my cheeks.

  “Ignore it,” Raav whispered. “Conversation for later.”

  As I relaxed my embrace and stepped away from him, his fingers trailed across my sides. I shivered.

  Heiklet, still sprawled on the hardened lava, looked up at me. “So what’s next? Where do we go?”

  My eyebrows drew together. “Well . . . That’s a big question.”

  “Whatever these guys say—” Heiklet gestured at the rest of the group. “—we came because we needed your help. We want to survive. What does the Nocturnai lore say?”

  The others, even Gaff and Tkira, were paying attention.

  “Find a place to sleep, I guess.”

  “Right,” Gaff muttered. “We’d never have thought of that on our own.”