The Sky Weaver

by Kristen Ciccarelli

  That was too much.

  He stepped toward her, remembering their last meeting as if it were yesterday. A moment ago. “Don’t say that.”

  Tears trembled on her lashes. He swept them away before they spilled down her cheeks.

  “I couldn’t come,” he said.

  But how could he explain it? That seven years were like seven days to him? She wouldn’t understand.

  Skye reached for him, gathering the shadows around him in her fist. “Take me with you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Because I’m mortal.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then make me immortal.”

  He stared at her. She didn’t know what she was asking. But he did. And the cost was unbearable.

  “I can’t. You and I—”

  But his words were lost in the softness of her mouth.

  For a heartbeat, he remembered the berry she gave him all those years ago. The way it made him ache for more.

  Her kiss was crueler than that. Because this time what she offered, he knew he shouldn’t take.

  But he did.

  He devoured her, crushing her to him, needing all of her. When she cried out in pain, he realized he’d lost himself. Her kiss had awoken the god in him, and the god would destroy her.

  Crow wrenched himself out of her grasp before that happened.

  “Skye . . .” Even he could hear his now-human heart—the heart she’d given him—breaking in his words. “You and I can never be.”

  Before she could stop him, he melted into shadow. Escaping her.

  This time for good.

  Fourteen

  Safire wasn’t used to being confined to small spaces. The closet suffocated her. The ship itself was like a cage she couldn’t escape. How did Eris bear it, living aboard these things? Safire was used to running the hunting paths through the Rift with Asha. Used to prowling the palace or the city. Used to sparring with her soldats.

  All her life, Safire had needed to move and keep herself strong—for her own survival.

  Being confined like this was making her fray at the edges.

  So, as Eris slept, Safire kept focused by doing sit-ups. As her upper body rose and fell, her muscles burning with the exertion, she devised a plan.

  She might feel sorry for Eris, with her hands locked in those corrosive manacles, but the girl was a criminal. Just yesterday, she’d instructed Jemsin’s men to torture her for information. The moment Eris knew where the Namsara was, she would hunt Asha down and bring her to Jemsin. Safire couldn’t let that happen. The safest place for Eris to be was in the hands of the empress, who would decide what to do with her.

  Kor was about to make this happen. It was in Safire’s best interest, therefore, to escape at the first opportunity, leaving Eris with the pirates.

  But while her purposes might be temporarily aligned with Kor’s, Safire had seen the cruel look in his eyes. A cruelty he wouldn’t hesitate to dole out on Eris the next time he got her alone. Safire might want Eris locked away, but she didn’t want her hurt. And to escape was to leave her completely at Kor’s mercy.

  And there was the matter of those strange cuffs. What if Kor didn’t deliver her in time and they severed her wrists?

  It was a dilemma.

  In the end, Safire decided to take Eris with her. She’d seen maps of the Star Isles when the empress first invited Dax to visit. Once she oriented herself, she would make her way to the capital, hand Eris over, and then find Asha.

  All she had to do was stay watchful and alive. She would play along. Be a good, obedient captive. And once the opportunity for escape arose, she would seize it.

  Suddenly, Eris woke, jolting upright and breaking Safire’s concentration. Safire fell back against the floor, breathing hard now while her muscles relaxed.

  “Do you hear that?”

  Safire watched Eris from where she lay on the floor, her warm cheek pressed against the wooden planks. “Hear what?”

  “Sea spirits. They’re singing.” Eris rose to her feet and started to pace. “Hells.”

  Safire sat up, watching her. Trying to hear what Eris heard. But the only sounds were the shriek of the wind and the croaking of the ship.

  With her wrists clasped, Eris banged on the door, shouting for someone to open it. When no one did, she shouted some more. “Listen, you morons! He’s sailing us straight into the wrecking grounds! Let me out!”

  When they still didn’t respond, she began kicking the door hard with the sole of her boot.

  Finally, it swung open. Kor himself stood in the frame.

  Eris shrank back, cheeks rosy, breathing hard. Safire got to her feet, standing behind her.

  “That landmass straight ahead? It’s Shadow Isle,” she told him. “Shadow Isle is known for its wrecking grounds. This seems like a shortcut to Axis, but it’s actually a—”

  “You’re a thief, not a sailor,” he growled. “Leave the navigating to me.”

  “There are spirits ahead, waiting for idiots like you!”

  His eyes narrowed into slits. “Sea spirits don’t exist, Eris. They’re tales made up by delirious scurvy-ridden sailors. And who says I’m taking you to Axis, anyway?”

  Eris frowned, going suddenly quiet.

  “If I have to come down here again,” he said, stepping in close, “you will regret it. The empress may want you alive, but she never said in what condition.”

  Eris backed up, straight into Safire.

  Kor stared Eris down until she looked away. For a moment, Safire thought he might come through on his threat right then. But when he remembered the girl standing behind Eris, his eyes met Safire’s and he stepped back.

  Finally he turned and slammed the door behind him.

  As the lock clicked, Eris’s hands curled into fists. “I grew up on Shadow Isle. I know what’s waiting for us beneath the water.”

  As if the sea itself heard her, the ship gave a shuddering shriek, followed by the buckling and breaking of wood. The floor seemed to rise as the boat pitched forward and came to an abrupt stop, throwing Eris and Safire into the wall.

  Alarmed shouts echoed above them. Footsteps clomped loudly overhead.

  “What in all the skies . . . ?” murmured Safire as water began to creep under the door and across the floor.

  “It’s called shipwreck alley,” said Eris, who, after finding her balance, began to bang both her manacled fists on the door again, “for a reason.”

  The water seeped to the other side of the room, then slowly started to rise.

  Safire joined Eris, making noise along with her.

  Soon, the door swung open again. Two pirates came in, and with them, a rush of salt water. Safire was forced out first and shoved down the hall. The moment she hit the deck, she gulped in salty air. The wind whipped her hair across her face and Safire fought it back with her fingers, looking north. Not far from the ship, glistening black rocks rose like jagged pillars out of the mist. Just beyond them, Safire saw the outline of chalky gray cliffs.

  The startling beauty of it entranced her.

  Much closer, Safire could see other shapes in the gloom. Silhouettes of heads bobbing in the water. Inhuman forms crouched on the rocks.

  “Sea spirits,” said Eris, suddenly at her side. “Known for breaking ships and eating crews alive.”

  Safire shivered.

  When two pirates forced her to the ship’s starboard side, however, she saw that the wind still roared, whipping the waves into a frenzy below. As they crashed against the ship, heaving and receding, she could see the sharp rocks the boat was grounded on.

  “In you go,” said Rain, reaching for the rowboat secured with rope.

  Behind her, Eris was arguing with Kor. But Safire didn’t hear a word of what she said. She was looking from the waves crashing against the hull to the sea spirits in the fog.

  “Listen, girlie. It’s into the rowboat or into the sea. Pick one.”

  Safire looked to find Rain leveling her with a stare
so murderous, she climbed into the boat. Rain climbed in after her.

  “It’s too dangerous!” Eris said, voice raised at Kor.

  Safire looked to where Kor was forcing Eris—hands bound in front of her—toward the rowboats.

  Eris’s eyes caught Safire’s as she reached to pull herself up and into the same boat, sitting down on the bench across from her. Eris must have seen something in Safire’s gaze, because her face changed. She glanced down to where Safire’s hands gripped the bench so hard, her knuckles were turning white.

  “You were right,” Safire admitted. “I can’t swim.”

  Eris’s gaze lifted in surprise. For a heartbeat, Safire thought Eris looked well and truly afraid for her. As if their boat capsizing was a serious possibility.

  But if she thought that, Eris kept it to herself.

  The crew still on board undid the rowboat’s fastenings and started to lower it down. Safire’s stomach lurched as they dropped, then halted, swinging. She stared down at the angry waves, roaring and crashing, wanting to drown her. She looked to the dark and hungry forms beyond, waiting to devour her.

  “Hey. Princess. Don’t look down there. Look at me.”

  But Safire couldn’t look away.

  I wasn’t supposed to die this way.

  “Safire.” Eris reached for her chin with bound hands, tilting Safire’s face away from the danger.

  Safire started at the sound of her name more than the touch of Eris’s fingers. She looked up into Eris’s eyes, which were solemn as she said, “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Safire glanced to Eris’s manacled wrists and knew this was a lie. If their boat capsized, Eris wouldn’t even be able to save herself. She wouldn’t be able to stop the sea spirits from eating either of them.

  But it was kind lie, meant to reassure.

  So Safire said, “What good is a promise from a low-life pirate?”

  But she smiled as she said it.

  Eris smiled slowly back.

  Fifteen

  Their boat nearly capsized twice.

  Kor was an utter fool to attempt it. He knew just as well as Eris what sky-high waves could do to a small, rudderless boat. The only reason for such recklessness was the wrecked ship at their backs.

  As Rain and Lila rowed, Eris kept her eyes on the fog. She could smell the stench of the sea spirits—like rotting fish—but could no longer see their dark shapes. If she had any love left for the Skyweaver, she might have sent a prayer skyward.

  “If I were you,” she said to Rain as the stench got stronger, “I’d row faster.”

  Rain grunted as she tugged on the oars, but otherwise ignored Eris.

  A scream pierced the air behind them, followed by the sound of teeth ripping into flesh. Across from Eris, Safire spun, gripping the sides of the rowboat and staring into the fog. More screams erupted, half-cloaked by the roar of the sea. Rain and Lila strained on the oars. Eris listened, completely still, as Kor’s crew was dragged one by one from their boats and into the water.

  They were coming up on the shore. Half a dozen hard pulls on the oars would get them there. Behind Safire, in the back of the boat, Kor screamed for them to row harder. His black hair had come free of its band and now glistened with sea spray as he yanked on his oars.

  That was when Eris heard the wave. She heard it a heartbeat before she felt the boat rising end over end. Her heart lurched as the sea spilled her out of the rowboat, sending her headfirst into its waters.

  The icy temperature sent a shock through her body. The salt stung her wounded wrists. Her shoulder struck the ground beneath the waves. And as she struggled against the pull of the tide, she felt the world tilt. Heard the islands shift and murmur.

  There, in the throes of the sea, the past rose up like a nightmare.

  She heard their dying screams. Smelled the scorched timbers and tapestries. Felt the heat of the flames devouring it all.

  Suspended in water, trapped in her memories, Eris stopped fighting. Instead, she willed the tide to drag her down to the depths. She begged the sea to drive the air from her lungs.

  After the horrors she was responsible for, it was no less than what she deserved.

  Before the sea could do her bidding, someone grabbed her. Fingers drove into Eris’s arm as their owner yanked her to her feet, dragging her toward the shore, sloshing through the waves and away from the danger. When the ocean receded and the wet sand squished beneath her feet, Eris fell to her knees. When she looked up, Kor stared down at her.

  “Get up,” he said, shoving her shoulder with the pommel of his dagger. “We need to keep moving.”

  “Where’s Safire?”

  Eris looked back over her shoulder to find Rain dragging their rowboat up above the tideline. It was one of only two rowboats that made it. Nearby, Safire spluttered as she, too, was dragged up the shore by Lila.

  At the sight of her alive, Eris let out a breath. She looked farther out, over the water. Beyond the mist, she could just make out the shapes of several sea spirits watching from the waves.

  She forced herself to get to her feet and started walking.

  Jemsin would realize they were gone by now. He would hunt Kor down—or get his summoner to do it for him. But Kor might easily drag Eris to the empress before Jemsin found him. Eris needed to escape, track down the Namsara, and bring her to the captain.

  It was the only thing standing between her and freedom. And right now, as Eris looked from the corpse-infested waters to the man about to hand her over to her worst enemy, she wanted freedom more than ever.

  But as Kor forced her up the beach and toward the mist-shrouded trees, a stinging pain halted Eris’s thoughts. She looked down at her now-enflamed wrists, locked in stardust steel. In just a few days the steel would eat right through her—skin, muscle, and bone.

  First, she needed to find a way to get these off. Then, she would track down the Namsara.

  And if she couldn’t get the manacles off, so be it. Kor would not be handing her over to the ones who’d taken everything from her.

  Eris would escape and locate the Namsara—with or without her hands.

  Shadow Isle was the smallest and most southern of the Star Isles. For the first eleven years of her life, it was the island Eris called home.

  She tried not to think about this fact as they trudged through the woods.

  Rain, Lila, and a few others hacked at junipers and balsam firs, trying to clear a path through the muddy, silty soil until they found the footpath. Kor and two more pirates walked behind Eris and Safire, watching them like hawks. But Eris could feel the tension in them. Mere moments ago they’d heard their crewmates get eaten alive, and now they were walking through an eldritch forest. Who knew what would come for them next?

  Safire hadn’t said a word since they left the shore. The whole way from the ship, she’d sat stiff with terror. Now, with her feet back on solid ground, her face softened as she took in her surroundings. Eris watched her study the twisted, silvery trees; the sheer cliff edges; the barren, mossy rock.

  Eris knew that look. The Star Isles lured you in with their beauty and mystery. And only when you were good and truly snared did they reveal their true nature. But by then, it was too late.

  At that thought, Eris checked the sky for ravens. Part of her hoped Jemsin’s summoner—as much as she feared the creature—would come for her. It would be the easiest way out of this. But the only birds flying overhead were gulls.

  When she looked back, she found Safire studying a hedge of white berries they were passing.

  “Scarp berries,” Eris told her, their shoulders brushing. Safire glanced up. “The dart I pricked you with the other night? It was made from a scarp thistle thorn. Their berries can be used the same way.”

  Safire’s brow furrowed and her lips pursed as she stepped toward the scarp plant—earning her a shove from Rain.

  Safire threw the girl a dirty look as Eris glanced back, quickly counting the pirates behind them. Sh
e winced when she found Kor glaring at her, bringing up the rear of the group. Four behind and four ahead. The odds were definitely against her.

  But the odds had been against Eris plenty of times before.

  They walked for most of the day. When it began to rain lightly, the damp smell of the earth and junipers brought a rush of bittersweet memories. That was when Eris started to recognize the landscape around her. Soon, their pace quickened and Eris realized it was because they’d hit a path. A familiar path. One she’d walked thousands of times as a child.

  Suddenly, she knew exactly where they were.

  “No,” Eris whispered, halting abruptly.

  This time when Kor shoved, Eris ground her heels in, refusing to budge.

  “Move,” Kor growled.

  “I’d rather die.”

  Safire stopped and looked back, studying her.

  Kor motioned for two of the other pirates to haul Eris onward. But the moment their grip closed around her arms, Eris dropped to her knees.

  They would have to drag her if they wanted her to go any farther.

  Suddenly, she felt the press of steel at her back. “I don’t have time for this.”

  Eris wished she knew where her spindle was. But it could be hidden on any of these pirates. And even if she had it, the stardust steel locked around her wrists prevented her from going across.

  She was completely powerless.

  Eris squeezed her eyes shut. “Kill me, then. Right here. What you’re going to do is worse than death anyway.”

  Kor stepped in front of her, staring down at Eris out of those fierce dark eyes. Eris looked beyond him, to the path between the misty trees. A path that led up through gray shale cliffs and along the sea.

  A path that led home.

  No, she thought, hardening her heart against it. Never again will it be my home.

  The whole party came to a halt. Those up ahead circled back to see what the problem was.

  “Kor?” said the burly Lila, looking to the gray sky, her hair shiny with rain. It had gotten considerably colder and grayer due to the storm coming in. “We have a day’s walk ahead of us, and this weather is only going to worsen. I think we should make camp.”