by AB Bradley
Iron grabbed Fang and jumped to his feet. “What? You—you’re just going to murder them and leave? Murderer! Monster!”
“The champion is such a child,” he said with a smirk. “I was ordered to pay you a visit and destroy this city. It’s a shame, really. I called this place home once before my Sun fell, but it was never meant for humans to profane. So, I came along to prod you on your journey.” Caspran clapped his hands and bowed. “And now I must depart. My fleet awaits on other business. Please find yourself off these ruins quickly as I’ll be sending the city to the sea at sunrise. If I find you here then, I’ll take another life you cherish—maybe that pretty slave girl? Goodbye, Fireborn, until we meet again—and we will, soon enough.”
With that, Caspran dove into the water. The alp did not resurface.
Iron dropped Fang and fell to his knees. He stared at the blue stone, numb, not a thought circling the desolation of his mind save the image of the crew falling one by one into the murky depths.
“Iron!” Sander’s voice echoed off the rubble.
“Iron!” Ayska repeated, a little louder.
He lifted his head and looked to the side. The two survivors crested a broken tower in the distance. Kalila had already bounded toward her sister from her hiding place.
Ayska’s panicked glare caught sight of the smoldering wreckage of the ship she loved. She slowed, and then she stopped. Wind tossed her braids as the last of the sunlight died beneath the starry sky. Iron watched her collapse onto the ground.
She screamed. She screamed and sobbed. And then, she cursed. She cursed Caspran for his slaughter. She cursed High King Sol for his evil. She cursed the Serpent. Lastly, she cursed the Six to the deepest burning pit of the darkest hell.
He knew then they both lost their faith. Iron could not serve an avalanche, and Ayska could not forgive one for burying the innocent in its wake.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
From Chaos
Sander’s black boots drifted into view, covered in a thin layer of blue grain—dust from the rubble. He kneeled. Iron raised his head and met his master’s eyes.
“Caspran,” Sander said.
“Caspran. He killed them…I couldn’t even scratch him…they died…”
“Shh…” His master gripped Iron’s shoulders. “You tried. That’s all that matters.”
“He beat me senseless, like I was nothing. Then he healed me and made me watch while he murdered Vigal and Gil and, and, and everyone.”
Iron tried in vain to fight the memories of the slaughter still freshly carved onto his thoughts. “He killed them. He killed them all and I couldn’t save them.” He looked at Sander, his horror unfurling into an angry ball as he clenched his teeth into a trembling wall. “The Sinner’s Oath you forced on me kept me from doing anything!”
“It only would’ve gotten you killed, boy. Don’t you dare put their deaths on my shoulders. You would’ve used every last ounce of magic in you to try and hurt that demon, and in the end, you would’ve ended up dead for it. So don’t sit here and glare daggers at me when that Sinner’s Oath was the only thing that kept you from getting killed along with the others.”
“But I would’ve tried. I would.”
By then, Ayska wandered to them with her sister in tow. Red rimmed the former captain’s eyes, and her braids hung limp over her chest. She stared blankly at Iron and Sander, lost in a world of pain and mourning.
“I’m sorry, Ayska. He was too powerful.” Iron swallowed and reached for her. “If I could trade myself for them, I would in a heartbeat.”
She had no words for him, although her jaw tightened as she turned and fixed her eyes onto the wreckage of the Scarlet Widowmaker. Kalila towered behind her, still clutching a wounded hand and gazing at the sea.
Sander sighed and pulled Iron to his feet. “That damn alp just left us here. It makes no sense.”
“Why did he spare us?” Ayska murmured.
“He’s toying with us,” Iron said. “Sol and Caspran knew we were here. Somehow, they’re watching us. There was…” Iron looked to Fang. Was the weapon the reason Sol wanted Iron out of Spineshell? If it was, it might explain why the sword hid itself from others. Iron strapped the weapon back on his hip and cradled his chin.
“There was what?” Sander asked.
If he told Ayska that Caspran would return at sunrise, no force on Urum could pull her from Spineshell. She would wait—Iron knew it—and when sunrise came, she would fight him. Or more likely, Caspran would simply slaughter her like the others.
I won’t be the cause of another death. I won’t. Especially not hers.
Iron turned toward the darkening horizon. “There was something else Sol wanted, and it wasn’t here. Caspran thinks there’s nowhere for us to go. Why not let us starve while he goes on to kill more of the king’s enemies?” He checked their eyes for suspicion, but they looked to believe the lie. “We’ve got to leave this place. If we want to stop him, we’ve got to find some safety beyond his reach where we can regroup and form a plan.”
“Then we make for the Rosvoi Islands.” Ayska kept her focus on the water. “That vile, wicked demon thinks he’s just going to let us starve while he commits his crimes? No. I will not starve on this ruin. I will kill him.” Her lips pressed into a white line. “I will murder him for what he’s done, and then I’ll kill Sol. They’ll pay for this, all of them, a thousand times over. We keep a skiff on the other side of the island. It’s small, and the journey’s far, but we can make it to Rosvoi before we starve if the winds are with us. From there, we can find a way to Eloia.”
Sander lowered his hood. He scratched his salty hair and shook his head. “Rosvoi. Now why does that name sound familiar?”
“Smart sailors avoid the islands. Stupid ones get stranded there, carried on the Western Sapphire current where it mixes with cooler waters and makes the skies rage with storms.”
“Rosvoi. Rosvoi.” Sander tapped his chin. “I know that name. I swear I’ve heard it before.”
Ayska wandered to the edge and stared at her ship, the dying flames washing her with orange. “It guards the mouth of the Churning Ocean. No ship has sailed beyond it and returned. Some say it is the edge of Urum. They also say the island’s haunted.”
“Rosvoi!” Sander snapped, smiling at his recollection. That smile quickly melted into a frown. “Every sailor who’s been out to sea more than a fortnight’s heard the stories of those islands. You say no one’s sailed beyond them, but I’ve never heard of anyone returning from them.”
“Neither have I,” she said. “But it’s our only choice. The skiff isn’t made for long journeys. If we sail the Western Sapphire to the islands, we can catch the Southern Sapphire to Eloia. Any other way and we’ll be at the mercy of the sea. I won’t have it take me, not until I watch the life drain from that alp’s eyes.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Iron said as he walked to Ayska.
He reached for her arm, but she yanked it away. Her nostrils swelled as she turned from the island. “I’ll take us to the skiff. We leave tonight. We leave now.”
“And pray for clear skies,” Sander quipped.
“Pray?” she asked, her words dripping poison. “I’ll do no more praying to the Six, priest. The only thing the Six will hear from me are my curses. I was fool enough to love them, to think my hurt came from my lack of faith. I was loyal. I was loyal!” Her shout rang against the stony rubble. “Never again will I bend a knee to dead gods. Never again will I put my faith in them. I hate them. I wish them death just as much as I wish death on the High King and his serpents. Don’t you dare speak of them to me ever again.”
Sander looked to Iron, and Iron looked away. He agreed with Ayska, but letting his master see that in his eyes was a bridge too far.
Slumping with a sigh, his master motioned onward. “Very well, Ayska Masrari. I will respect your wishes. Please, lead on.”
Ayska swallowed, clutching one of her braids. Her hard gaze shifted to Iron and so
ftened, if only for a moment. “I saw you try and nearly die. Thank you for that, and thank you for keeping my sister safe. You did everything in your power.”
Except I didn’t—I couldn’t, thanks to the Sinner’s Oath. Iron clenched his teeth and locked his gaze on his boots. Only a few days ago, he embraced her. Now a glacier towered between them.
He listened to her footsteps march inland. He grabbed Sander’s wrist before the man could follow. Iron met Sander’s gaze straight on. “I didn’t do everything in my power. You know that. A sinner lies to save lives—I lied to doom them.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sander ripped his wrist from Iron’s grasp and followed after Ayska.
Both their figures shrank against the dark rubble. He watched them leave, shaking his head. Stars twinkled across the dome of the sky, and he caught the Mother’s constellation on its slow trek to align with the other starry symbols of the gods. “You caused this. I don’t need to learn your secret shame, I know it. Your past is your shame, and I’ll damn you all to hell before I let you and this Serpent repeat it.”
Was it blasphemy to speak ill of dead gods? It’s not like the Burning Mother would care one way or another. Iron clenched Fang’s grip and ran after the others, quickly peeking over his shoulder. While Caspran’s fleet blended into the dark horizon, he felt the alp’s cold eyes on him just the same.
The skiff held them and not much more. They gathered what food and freshwater remained and piled it into the boat. The vessel itself was a sturdy little thing with a pointed prow carved into a trout. Its measly mast stood not but twelve feet tall and sported a patchwork sail weathered like an old warrior’s brow. Watching the ship bob brought him no comfort. The currents they rode on their journey to Spineshell could conjure waves much larger than these calm waters.
Iron kept a nervous eye on the open sea. It had taken longer than he’d liked to find the supplies. His body begged for sleep, but he remembered Caspran’s promise. If the alp found them at sunrise, Ayska would die next.
“Weather willing,” Ayska said, “we’ll reach Rosvoi in a week. From there, we’ll hit the Southern Sapphire current and journey to the western edge of Eloia’s lands. We’ll be in the king’s backyard while he thinks us dead.”
She unmoored the vessel, tossing the thick rope into the ship. The boat rocked as she helped Kalila into it and vaulted graceful as a snow leopard after. Sander hopped in next. Iron fidgeted at the water’s edge while the others waited.
Iron hated himself for it, but he didn’t want to leave. It was a tomb for the crew, a memorial of a bygone age, the place where he had kissed the most beautiful woman on Urum, the spot where he’d discovered the truth about the world.
This was more than a ruin, more than an island. This was the place where he’d left the innocent boy from the Everfrosts behind and joined the ranks of the grown world.
And the people of the grown world would die if he stayed on Spineshell pining on happier days. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter how much he hated the gods who caused it.
Sander extended a hand to Iron. He smirked and jumped into the ship without taking it, noticing his master’s eyes roll as his hand fell.
His master strolled to the prow and crossed his arms. “They say there’s something old and dark on Rosvoi. I worry we’ve cut the noose just to fall into a bonfire. Six save us if we end up on those islands more than a night.”
“The Six have nothing to do with it,” Ayska spat. “If we end up on those island’s, I’ll save us or claw through whatever the hells is there to get back to Eloia.”
“And I believe you.” Sander sighed and took a seat, closing his eyes as he lifted his chin to the sky.
Ayska grabbed an oar and pushed them from the broken island. The ship’s sail whipped and flapped in the night breeze. Starlight bathed her braids as they swung around her smooth shoulders. Her fingers deftly handled the knots securing the sail.
Her eye caught his. He smiled. Her lips flattened as she turned her back to him. “Watch the boom.”
“The boom?”
Wind caught the sail, and the lower beam extending it raced toward Iron. He ducked just before it smashed against his temple. Ayska leaned against the mast and watched the horizon, rubbing her arms like she stood in Skaard and not the warm winds of the Sapphire Sea. “The boom.”
As the powerful Western Sapphire current caught their boat, they rolled and rocked upon the waves, sliding achingly slowly into the unknown. Once the horizon snatched Spineshell’s ruins and no sign of Caspran marred the sea, Iron relaxed.
Silence sent his mind wandering until it settled on thoughts of home. He wondered if their cabin still stood against the thundersnows and the billowy drifts they left behind them. Maybe more wolves had come and torn the place apart. Maybe the odd wandering tribe of wild men ransacked the treasures of knowledge within, burning the books and parchments for warmth instead of learning. Perhaps Caspran himself sought the cabin out. Iron practically heard the alp’s feet creak on the rough floorboards. He saw the silvery razors that hovered around the demon like moths around a flame.
His heart ached for home. Iron had none now and didn’t realize what kind of pit it left within him. He’d throw Fang into the sea with a smile on his face if he knew it would bring him back to that cabin one day so he could ride the furious storms once again. If only…
“They fell into the waters,” Ayska said. She sat, hands folded in her lap and eyes staring at an empty sea. “I was their captain. I was their friend, their family. They’re dead because I couldn’t protect them, and now they won’t even have a proper burial.”
Iron searched her features, looking for a soft spot in that emotionless exterior. “It’s my fault, not yours. If I’d only been stronger, maybe I could’ve done something.”
“Except that wasn’t your job, it was mine. I hate this world and the gods who made it, Iron. I really do.”
Sander listened, now cleaning his nails from his seat. Her words gave him pause, and his eyes flicked to Iron and back again.
“Is this the world the Six wanted?” she wondered. “This is the kind of life they meant for their creation?”
Her mask cracked behind the fury in her eyes. She stood and spread her arms to the sea. “You bastards! I told my crew I’d protect them. I told them they were safe. I had faith in you, even after my family was nearly destroyed, even after the Godfall, even after I lost everything, I still kept my faith. This is your repayment for my devotion? I hate you. I hate you!”
Her voice echoed over the waves. Just like the gods, the stars did little more than stare at the show. Ayska shuddered and dipped her chin. Thick braids swept over her shoulders and veiled her features. “In the end, I broke my words to them, and they died in chains. They were loyal to me. I should’ve been loyal to them.”
“There is a way to stop them, Ayska.” Iron inched closer to her, rolling to his knees.
“No one has ever killed an alp.” Ayska bit her trembling lip. “They are the new gods. The Six left us to die beneath the Serpent Sun.”
“There is a way to stop this insanity. We’ll have vengeance for what Caspran did to them. The circle is broken, but if we seal it—if you and me seal it—we can kill the alp, kill the king, and free Urum from this war once and for all.”
“I want them to die. I want them and all the serpents to suffer like they’ve made me suffer. I hate them.” Her features twisted in a furious snarl. “I hate them, Iron, and I want to see them punished for what they’ve done.”
“And I vow to help you do it. We’ll find this circle and seal it. Whatever it is, it’s the key to stopping them.” His hands covered hers, and he squeezed. “As the Sinner slips me from death’s grasp, so shall I swear to keep my word. You will have your vengeance for their murders. I’ll find a way to stop Caspran, Sol, and his cult.”
Sander’s breath caught, and the boat rocked as he lurched from his seat. “A Sinner’s Oath? That is serious, boy
. You—”
“Cannot break it. I think I know the rules.” Iron shot him a scowl before returning a warm smile to Ayska. “Your crew were the first people I met in Urum who showed me kindness, and because of Caspran, because of me, they’re dead. I’ll find the broken circle, and when I do, I’ll use it as a weapon and cut out his heart. I swear it.”
Sander’s lips pressed into a line, and he gave a slight nod, retreating to his seat. Ayska’s hands rotated out of his, softly caressing his knuckles. She pressed her lips into a line and nodded, acknowledging his promise.
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
She pulled away and continued her dull gaze into the distance. Sander reclined on his seat and pulled his hood over his eyes. Kalila, as always, stared at the world from the bottom of an abyss.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rosvoi
The days rolled by on the tortuous skiff as it crawled over the sea. A week came and went, and still, no Rosvoi islands. Ayska told Iron the current flowed weakly for them, another sign their supposed gods had fled if they ever lorded over Urum in the first place.
Iron forgot the firmness of solid ground beneath his feet. Only a gentle rocking remained. Overhead, the sun scorched his brow and peeled flakes of skin from his cracked and bleeding lips. They yearned for water he couldn’t give them. Soon, they would empty their last flagon of water, and if the islands didn’t appear…well, he didn’t want to think what might happen then.
Gods were such wickedly comical beings. They created a sun that kept them warm yet hot enough to burn them. They filled the basins between lands with mighty seas and oceans but salted them so the waves could never quench a man’s thirst.
Each movement of Iron’s limbs tested his strength, and when he managed it, he imagined swimming through tree sap an easier task. His head pounded, and every swallow was like drinking sand.
