by Kat Ross
“What’s done is done,” he said roughly. “Darius and the girl will die and there’s no stopping it now.”
“And what will happen when you’ve killed Victor’s son? Do you think he won’t retaliate?”
“Let him come,” Culach snarled.
They stood there for a moment, surrounded by the sweet, sharp smell of apples, and what used to be comfortable silence between them was brittle and charged.
“I hate this place,” Mina said finally. “I hate the stone and the cold and the howling wind. All the years I’ve been here, I consoled myself by thinking I’d see the forest again someday, even if I was old and grey. But I know now that I’ll die here. We all will.”
Culach felt sick. Like something terrible bore down on them with the inexorable force of an avalanche. He could tell from her voice she was near enough to touch, if he just reached for her.
“I’ll help you leave Val Moraine, even if I have to sneak you out. Mina—”
But she was already brushing past him, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.
16
A Fey Doorway
A cloudless sky arched above as Nazafareen and Javid trudged across the empty landscape of the Umbra. Nazafareen glanced over her shoulder. She saw nothing, but the feeling they were being pursued only grew stronger. She also couldn’t deny something was slowly coming to life in her. It wasn’t simple instinct but another sense entirely—one that smelled magic.
This sense told her that whatever followed them, it wasn’t flesh and blood, not in any normal sense.
“How much farther to Samarqand?” she asked wearily.
“At least another two days.”
“We don’t have that much time.” As soon as she spoke the words, Nazafareen knew them for truth. She surveyed the terrain. It was featureless except for a smudge in the distance where the land began to rise. “Are there any villages? Anything at all?”
Javid snorted. “No one lives out here. I don’t know what lies ahead as I’ve never had the pleasure of crossing the Umbra on foot.” He scanned the horizon behind them. “I think you’re jumping at shadows, Ashraf. There’s nothing out here.”
Nazafareen shaded her eyes. The glow to the west had intensified, casting a strange flat light. “What about those hills?”
“I’d say they’re a league or so from here.”
“Let’s head that way. At least we might find some shelter.”
Nazafareen picked up her pace.
“What exactly do you think is behind us?” Javid demanded, half jogging to keep up even though he was the taller of the two. “There are no animals out here. There’s nothing.” He made a sweeping gesture. “Look around.”
“I don’t know.” She squinted her eyes against a gust of wind-blown grit. “You just have to trust me.”
She couldn’t admit she had daēva blood in her ancestry and was able to touch elemental power. And she certainly couldn’t tell him about her breaking magic, which was unheard of and made her a pariah.
“Right,” he snapped. “After you stowed away on my ship and then crashed it.”
Nazafareen rounded on him. “The storm made your ship crash,” she growled. “And you can camp right here if you like. Personally, I’d prefer to live, so I’m going to those hills—”
A distant howl came from the east, high-pitched and excited.
Javid’s head snapped around.
“What was that?”
Nazafareen grabbed his arm. “Come on!”
They started running. The land gradually began to rise. Nazafareen slipped on a scree of pebbles and fell to one knee. The impact tore her tunic, scraping the skin and drawing blood. Wordlessly, Javid grabbed her hand and yanked her back to her feet.
They didn’t hear another howl but the itch between her shoulder blades grew into cold fear as they entered the final stretch. Nazafareen didn’t want to look behind, but she had to.
Three shapes closed the distance on the plain. They were the same color as the rocks and hard to see in the twilight, but she had the impression of great speed. Of lithe limbs and muscles bunching and contracting.
Javid saw them too and made a choking sound. Nazafareen knew that to stop and fight in the open would mean death. She ran faster than she ever had in her life, eyes fixed on the dark mouth of a canyon. The things didn’t make another sound. She didn’t know how far behind they were but didn’t dare slow down again to look.
The first hillside loomed. They scrambled up on hands and knees. Some ancient process had buckled the land here, forcing it up into rocky masses with narrow gullies between. Nazafareen sensed something ahead. Different from the creatures that chased them, but it gave her a queer feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“This way,” she panted, leading Javid to the left.
Too exhausted to speak, he simply nodded. Perhaps thirty paces back, she heard loose rocks cascading down the hillside. They pelted into the canyon, the sky narrowing to a grey ribbon overhead. Nazafareen could practically touch the rock walls on either side. They’d been worn smooth by wind and rain, exposing layers of brown and grey and pale purple.
Hot panting behind and the click of claws on stone.
The passage twisted and turned. Nazafareen drew her sword. Javid already had his belt knife in hand. His face was ashen.
“What are those things?” she gasped.
“I don’t know.”
He made the sign of the flame with a shaking hand, fingers touching forehead, lips and heart. She'd seen Darius make a similar gesture. It meant good thoughts, good words and good deeds. A sign of protection.
“We’ll make a stand here,” Nazafareen said, mouth dry with fear.
Even when she’d heard that dry rustle in the darkness of the forest, felt the snake’s scaly coils imprison her body, she'd faced something known. Something natural. But there was nothing natural about these creatures. They radiated sickness and malevolence. Pain and fear. She fought a surge of despair.
Why bother fighting? We’re going to die here no matter what. The hand holding her sword wavered.
“Ashraf!”
She spun as the first of the creatures loped around the bend, a blur almost too fast to register—and the weak power in her responded with a jolt of pure hatred.
Let them come, a whispering voice in her mind snarled. Break them. Break them!
Nazafareen got her sword up just in time. It plunged to the hilt in the thing’s chest. The beast made no sound, its jaws snapping at the air. She put a boot on its chest and yanked out the blade. Why, it was light as air! Nazafareen felt a savage joy as it struck the ground. But then it shook itself and rose unsteadily to its feet. The others crept forward. They were translucent but their bodies seemed to constantly change, colors swirling beneath the skin that could have been dirt or rock or water. Crocodilian mouths held an array of gleaming teeth.
Javid just stood there, his eyes dead. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard.
“Fight it,” she hissed, forcing him to look at her. “It’s magic, Javid! They’re making you give up. Don’t let them!”
He stared at her blankly. The second beast lunged, its claws raking across her thigh. Nazafareen bit down on a scream and kicked it away.
Desperate, she slapped Javid across the face. “Wake up! Wake up, damn you!”
He blinked and seemed to come back to himself a little.
“Come on!” She backed down the narrow passage, Javid behind her. The creatures inched forward. She slashed her sword across the narrow space.
She heard Javid muttering words. It seemed nonsense, but then a cloud of fine, sparkling dust filled the air. A powerful wind rose in the passage, whipping her short hair around her face and battering at the creatures. They squatted on their haunches, untouched, eyes like orbs of quicksilver fixed on Nazafareen.
Javid swore an oath. Blood soaked steadily through her pant leg as they inched backwards. The beasts padded after them.
And then the groun
d grew softer underfoot, almost silty, like the bottom of a pond. Whatever Nazafareen had sensed was very close now. From the corner of her eye, she saw waist-high reeds swaying in an invisible current. They were still in the canyon, but it felt like two places superimposed over each other.
They reached a dead end. Solis rock walls rose up on three sides. The creatures panted, seeming to grin around their gleaming teeth.
And Nazafareen knew what she had sensed.
Behind them, an oblong doorway rose out of the ground. It gave off a faint greenish glow. Nazafareen knew that if she walked around to the back, it would appear precisely the same. A hole in the fabric of the world.
Apparently, Javid knew what it was too.
“Oh no,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “We’re not going in there.”
“Yes, we are.”
“It’s taboo!”
“Would you prefer to die?”
His eyes darted around, searching the rock walls. “We could try to climb up—”
“We’d never make it.”
He opened his mouth, closed it again.
Ten paces ahead, three sets of muscular haunches bunched to leap.
“Now!” Nazafareen snapped.
“Holy Father protect me,” Javid said weakly.
He closed his eyes as they stepped through the gate.
17
The Shadowlands
“You can look now.”
Nazafareen watched Javid reluctantly open one eye, then the other. They widened in surprise. The rock canyon had vanished, giving way to a pine forest that reminded her of Nocturne—except it wasn’t dark. She could see perfectly well although the light didn’t come from any particular direction. The Dominion had no sun, she recalled. No moon or stars. No weather. No birdsong. It was a place outside of time.
“Are we really in the shadowlands?” He looked ill. “Does that mean we’re dead?”
Nazafareen suppressed a smile.
“I don’t feel dead,” she said.
When they first stepped through the gate, she heard the snap of jaws mere inches from the back of her neck. It had been a bad moment. But whatever constructs of dark magic they were, the beasts apparently could not travel through gates.
“At least they didn’t follow,” she pointed out.
Javid blew out a breath. “They must be native to the Umbra. I had no idea such monsters existed, but no one travels there.” He shuddered. “Holy Father, the things that went through my mind. Every wrong I’ve ever committed.... How did you manage to resist it? I think I would have let them tear my throat out.”
She thought of that whispering voice. “I felt it too. But then I…I just got angry.”
“Well, your temper saved us.” He looked around. They stood in a small clearing, the gate dusting the leaves in golden-green light. “What now? Do we wait for them to leave?”
Nazafareen chose her words carefully. It wouldn’t do to admit she’d been here before; that would bring too many questions she couldn’t answer.
“What if they don’t leave? The only way to know is to step back through the gate. What if they’re right on the other side?”
“But we can’t stay here!”
“There must be other gates that lead out.”
Javid considered this. “I’ve heard rumors there’s one in the King’s gardens,” he admitted. “The gates are ancient things, though not even the alchemists dare pass through them.”
“You see? I think we should try. Even if those monsters were gone, you said it was two more days to the city if we traveled on foot through the Umbra. What if they caught us again?”
Javid hesitated. “Are you sure we haven’t leapt from the frying pan to the fire? Everyone knows there are monsters in the shadowlands too. Giants with eyes of flame and iron teeth.”
“Then we shall stay on guard,” she replied solemnly.
Nazafareen knew she had the ability to sense gates. She closed her eyes and quieted her mind, letting her awareness roam outward. Elemental magic didn’t work in the Dominion but her breaking magic did. It seemed to be an inborn talent—or curse, depending how you looked at it. She felt nothing for a long moment, then a faint flicker of power to the east.
“Let’s try that way,” she suggested.
Javid stared at the gate they had just come through, clearly debating their chances.
“I suppose we have no choice,” he grumbled. His face softened as he examined her leg. “Are you sure you can make it?”
“It hurts, but I can walk.”
“Wait a second. Give me your cloak.”
Javid tore off a strip of cloth from the hem and dipped it in a nearby stream. Then he bound it around her thigh.
“Thank you.” She took a few steps. “It helps.”
“Maybe you should have a look at it.”
“The scratches aren’t too deep. I’ll do it later. It might be best to get away from the gate first.”
They began walking, their footfalls cushioned by a thick carpet of pine needles. Nazafareen doubted that the giants Javid feared were more than a myth to frighten children, but she vaguely remembered other creatures, and they were no less hostile.
“I should be back in the Guild Hall by now,” Javid muttered. “Not wandering lost in purgatory.”
“I’m sorry I got us into this mess. Truly I am.”
In fact, she felt sure the Valkirins had sent those beasts after her. They were bound by magic. That’s what she’d sensed in the Umbra. And now she was back in the Dominion—the very place where she’d lost her memories. I’m running in circles, and poor Javid is being dragged along for the ride.
He glanced at her. “If you’d asked for passage, I’d have refused you.”
She stared down at the ground.
“But who’s to say the Kyrenia would have weathered that storm? I might have crashed anyway.” He frowned at her. “How did you know those things were behind us?”
“I don’t know. Just a feeling. Don’t you ever get those?”
“I suppose. Just like I knew if I didn’t leave the darklands that very night, I’d be caught in rough weather.” He smiled ruefully. “Though I seem to have underestimated it.”
They forded a shallow stream and clambered down a rocky slope. Not a breeze stirred the air. Despite the dense trees, the place had a lifeless feel. In the Danai forest, she always heard squirrels digging through the leaves and other sounds—the eerie, high cry of a screech owl, the aggressive squabbling of raccoons. Branches creaked, the churring trill of the nightjars rose and fell. But in the Dominion, their footfalls were the only sound.
“How did you come to work for the Guild?” she asked to break the oppressive silence.
“My father apprenticed me when I was twelve. He’s a weaver, makes the ropes for the ships. I was hopeless at his trade, but it turns out I have a good head for heights and an aptitude for reading the weather.”
“It sounds exciting.”
Javid shrugged. “We mainly use them to ferry dignitaries between Samarqand and Susa, and occasionally Delphi. The ships aren’t large enough to carry much freight so trade in goods is handled by river barges. But wind ships are much swifter and prestigious for personal travel.”
Nazafareen thought about the Marakai. They might demand payment to help her. And Javid said the services of an alchemist were expensive, too. Either way, she would need to survive somehow. At the Danai compound, they’d given her a house to live in and food to eat. But she somehow doubted the same would happen in Samarqand.
“Do they ever hire women?”
He glanced at her. “No. Only men.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not, but it’s the way things are.”
“What other jobs are there?”
“You might get work as a scullery in a manor house. I’ll see if the Guild would be willing to give you a reference.”
“Scullery?”
“A maid. You know, scrubbing pots? Sweeping ashes
from the hearth?”
She made a face. “What else?”
“Without any useful skills? It’s that or work the streets.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighed. “Never mind. Don’t worry, Ashraf, I’ll find you something. Assuming we live long enough to get there. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“Nine,” she said promptly. “Only six are still alive though. The others died horribly in farming accidents.”
“Holy Father, I’m sorry!”
“Yeah, I’d rather not talk about it. But I’ll tell you about my cousin…Galen. He only bathed once a month and had this wart on the end of his nose with more hair growing out of it than he had on his head.”
Javid winced. “I can see why you left.”
Nazafareen proceeded to weave an elaborate tapestry of lies she hoped she could remember later. It passed the time and distracted her from all the awful things that could potentially befall them in the Dominion. She was tired of having no memories, so why not invent some?
“You’ve led a colorful life for a village girl,” Javid said dryly, as she finished a tale about nearly being carried off by a giant eagle while fetching water from the well. “I’m amazed you even survived your childhood.”
Nazafareen nodded. “I know. But after I brought that old crone’s magic chalice back, she lifted the curse and things settled down.” She paused. “For a while, at least. Did I tell you about my thirteenth birthday? We were sitting down to a fancy supper when the door burst open and these bandits rushed in. They were so big and hairy I thought they were bears at first. Turned out my brother Victor owed them money….”
The land gently rose and fell. Nazafareen followed the invisible ley line leading to what she felt certain was another gate. It came into view at last, standing alone in a clearing. She could feel the nauseating tug of its power. Nazafareen studied it for a moment, brows drawn down in thought. Every gate she’d seen before had a murky undersea quality in the area just around it. This one looked different. The ground was parched and dry, the vegetation dead. Sand buried the lower half, and the angle seemed slightly off kilter. The surface reflected the surrounding trees like a cloudy mirror.
