I nodded. “There were storms. Waves. Their homes were destroyed.”
“Mieshk?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I’m glad you came. I want to be there for you when you need me.”
I gritted my teeth, embarrassed about telling him my troubles first. “It’s actually—there’s more I need to tell you. Should we—” I glanced toward the hall’s exit to the rest of the house, a wide marble archway carved with spiraling filigrees.
A light flush colored his cheeks. “Of course. I’m sorry. I was so surprised to see you, I forgot my manners.”
“Raav?” I said. “I think you should get your mother.”
Raav stiffened. “Did I just hear that right?”
I nodded. “Trust me.”
“We’ll go to her. Come on.” He started for the arch, hand resting lightly on my shoulder to guide me. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring his touch.
As we walked, he spoke, “As for what I know about the attack . . . we saw the fires. A messenger came with news. Some sort of new Ulstat weapon. Traders are supposed to stay inside for safety. Apparently there was an emergency council session just before the attack, but Frask didn’t wake Mother for it. And he hasn’t been home yet with the details . . . not that that’s surprising.”
“No,” I said quietly. I wanted to tell him right then, but had already made the choice to include his mother.
Once into the main part of the house, Raav led me down a set of high-ceiling hallways to a back room. There, large glass panes looked out over a small garden where roses bloomed, separated by graveled paths.
“Mother?” he said as we entered the room. I hadn’t noticed her until he called. House Ovintak’s prime trader sat in a stuffed chaise, staring out the window. Her face was drawn, lined with age and fatigue. When Raav addressed her, she turned dull eyes to him.
“This is Lilik Boket,” he said.
“She knows,” I interjected.
Raav’s face darkened as he followed my gist. She’d been present when her son hit me—hard to forget that sort of introduction. As if to defend me from a hurt already inflicted, Raav dropped an arm over my shoulder. His mother looked away.
“Frask will not allow it,” she said. “If you value her life, send her away.”
“Never,” Raav said. The anger in his voice sawed through me. I swallowed at the display of emotion.
“Sit,” he whispered in my ear. On the side of the room opposite Trader Ovintak, a pair of straight-backed chairs bracketed a small table. Upon it, a game of storms and ships, one of many played with a set of polished stones sat abandoned. After scooting the chairs closer together, Raav nudged me into one and took the other.
“There’s more to the story from last night,” I said.
“Oh?” His brows raised.
His mother didn’t bother to acknowledge the conversation, but I knew she was listening.
“It was Frask. He brought the Ulstats.”
Raav’s eyes widened and shot to his mother. The woman tensed, but said nothing.
“That’s a . . . strong statement,” he said.
Realizing my precarious position, I licked my lips before continuing. “No matter what Frask did to me, I wouldn’t lie about this. Right after the attack, he helped the Ulstat delegation escape through a passage out of the Council Hall.”
“Frask? And the Ulstats?” Raav said, struggling to accept the information.
“I’m sorry, Raav. I saw him on a skiff after, rowing out to their ships.”
“Mother, are you listening?” he asked.
The woman rolled her head to look at us. “I hear what she’s saying. I don’t believe her, though.”
“The other traders saw,” I said. “If they haven’t sent word to you about it yet, I imagine they will.”
“We need to prepare a response,” Raav said. “We can’t let them think we were involved.”
Trader Ovintak stared at her younger son. Blinked. “I suppose this is where you ask me to disinherit him,” she said with a melancholy smile. As she spoke, one of her arms started to twitch.
“This has nothing to do with inheritance, Mother,” he said. “This is serious. They’ll blame us.”
Abruptly, Trader Ovintak’s eyes rolled back. Her limbs shook as she began to thrash.
“Raav?” I asked. “Is she . . .”
He swallowed, face hard. “It’s a condition that has afflicted her for some time. Since one of Frask’s . . . never mind.”
Since what? Since he beat her and caused an injury to her mind? I stared at the woman in horror.
“I think you should leave, Lilik,” Raav said quietly. He stared at his hands while he spoke.
I laid a hand on his knee. “Can we meet later?”
He nodded, just a twitch of his chin. “Captain Altak’s, before dinner time.”
“He’s aboard Zyri’s Promise,” I said. “He sailed her clear of the quay during the attack.”
“Perfect. We won’t have to worry about people listening in.”
“See you there,” I said, squeezing his knee before lifting my hand.
“The sentry won’t give you any problems on the way out.” He didn’t look at me while he spoke.
With another glance at his mother, still locked in her fit, I stepped out of the room, leaving silence in my wake.
Outside Raav’s home, the midday sun highlighted parts of the courtyard gone derelict with inattention. Aside from the leaves in the fountain, the outer wall separating the courtyard from the street had many sections where mortar was missing from between the stones. Small plants grew from niches in the stonework. I shuffled toward the outer archway, thoughts on Raav and his mother and the complicated pain that Frask had worked upon his family. Near the exit, I heard the sound of booted feet marching on the street beyond. A quick glance at the sentry told me he’d noticed them too. Already, his sword was drawn; patrols of this size were uncommon in the trader district.
Instead of passing through the archway, I slid along the inner side of the wall. I didn’t want to set foot on a trader district street while a large force was passing through. Most likely, the patrol was a contingent of guardsmen gathered from multiple Houses to secure the district after the Ulstat attack, but I didn’t want to take my chances. If the traders had assigned their mercenary soldiers to help the city guard and House forces defend the city’s streets, the next few days would be difficult for gutterborn. Though the mercenaries were supposedly hired to defend all Kiriilti, the traders rarely disciplined those who had a little “fun” at the expense of the gutterborn.
While the sentry’s attention remained on the street, I slid behind a pear tree. Unlike most of the fruit-bearing trees in the district, neatly trimmed to arch over pathways, this one had a small copse of smaller shoots around its trunk. Untidy, but a good screen for hiding behind. I ducked down and waited.
I expected the patrol to move past quickly, but when the footsteps stopped just outside the arch, my eyes shot to the sentry. Wide-eyed and thin-lipped, he stared down the path connecting to the street.
As the leader of the patrol stepped into House Ovintak’s courtyard, she cleared her throat. Upon the shoulder and breast of her uniform was the sigil of House Yiltak. Behind her, two more Yiltak guards stood at attention, followed by half a dozen guards from other trader families. The mix of Houses meant this was a joint Council action. It didn’t look good for Raav.
After a moment, the guards stepped aside, allowing the tall figure of Trader Yiltak to stride forward.
“Sentry, please summon Trader Ovintak and her son, Raav.”
To the guard’s credit, he stood his ground, though the white-knuckled grip around his sword hilt betrayed his nerves. “I’m sorry, Trader Yiltak, but I’ll need to convey a reason for your request.”
“Of course,” Trader Yiltak said in a raised voice. “Though the House may have preferred a more discreet conversation. I’ve come with a warrant for the arrest of t
he remaining members of House Ovintak, in connection with the betrayal of the Kiriilt Islands by the prime heir, Frask Ovintak.”
At her words, delivered in a near shout, even the Yiltak House guard shuffled in discomfort. Near panic, the sentry threw open the door. “Get the traders. Now,” he called.
Raav emerged within moments, supporting his mother on his arm. “Trader Yiltak,” he said mildly.
Despite his outward calm, I could see his nervousness in the deep rise and fall of his chest. The proud lines of Raav’s face caught the sun, and I wished desperately that I’d warned him earlier. What would happen to him now? Trader justice was severe, and rarely fair. But would they really imprison the Ovintaks? Maybe it was a ploy to get Frask to return. A temporary situation.
“You may wish to choose more appropriate garb for a prison cell,” Trader Yiltak said.
“Oh?” Raav asked, brow raised. “And I’m now to take orders from you regarding my attire?”
Trader Yiltak shook her head, as if saddened by the situation. “As you wish, Raav Ovintak.” She turned to her guards. “Seize them. Avoid injury if you can.”
The guards moved to Raav’s mother first. Shrieking and fighting, she kicked at them, only to collapse like a wet rag when they grabbed her. Four guards carried her into the street.
Though Raav’s muscles tensed, obvious under the fine fabric of his tunic, he made no effort to resist. The Yiltak guards locked his wrists in irons and, clasping him firmly around the arms, led him from the courtyard. The Ovintak sentry followed them into the street. When I emerged from behind the tree and exited the courtyard, he was still staring.
Shoulders straight and moving with grace despite his bare feet and wrist shackles, Raav followed Trader Yiltak toward the edge of the trader district. Stricken, I could only watch.
Chapter Ten
DOCKSIDE, A FEW enterprising fishermen tied up during the midday hours, hiring out as ferries to isolated coves and the harbor mouth. Today, only one small boat braved the battered quay area, captained by a sun-weathered man whose age I couldn’t guess. When I approached, paying no heed to the destruction on the waterfront, he cast me a skeptical glance.
Rather than ask his prices, I searched my pocket for a quarter-crescent. The man rolled his eyes when I held it out.
“I’m the only fare you’ll get today,” I said, fairly certain it was the truth. Aside from the few merchants who’d opened shop and the guardsmen who roamed the city, cudgels out, the streets were largely empty. I’d passed half a dozen knots of gossiping commoners, but they’d congregated outside homes rather than venturing beyond the slums.
He glared, as if offended by my speaking the truth. As he pretended to weigh my offer, I noticed a second rowboat leaving Zyri’s Promise.
I gestured with my chin. “Looks like there’s another who’ll take me if you’re too busy. I don’t mind waiting.”
“I ought to be running a charity,” the man complained as he held out his hand for my coin.
The small boat rocked as I stepped into the bottom. Bending my knees, I spread my arms wide to balance. The fisherman chuckled unkindly. “Gutter,” he muttered under his breath.
In truth, I’d had no desire to wait for the other boat; whoever had been visiting Captain Altak might be a friend, but they were just as likely a foe. As my ferry captain rowed us toward the Vanished-built ship, I peered sideways at the returning boat. Sitting in the stern, the passenger wore a silk coat ill-suited for a trip aboard a fish-smelling rowboat. His clothing marked him as a trader, though I knew few enough of the younger generation to tell which House he represented. I wondered what his business had been with Captain Altak.
When we pulled alongside the ship, I called out. Moments later, Gaff’s weathered face appeared over the rail.
“Lilik!” he called, grinning. I returned the smile. Though we’d been back in Istanik for less than ten days, it felt like months since I’d seen some of the friends I made on Ioene.
“How fares the second mate of Zyri’s Promise?” I asked.
“I couldn’t be much better, considering the circumstances,” he said. His head disappeared and I heard his gruff shout as he called a deckhand to drop the ladder. As it snaked over the side, I glanced at the fisherman. Our eyes met, and his jerked away, but not before I spotted a hint of amusement—and perhaps disappointment—on his face. He recognized my name, of course, and was probably wishing he’d put it together before, a commoner asking for passage to Zyri’s Promise. I might not be rich, but after my nomination to the Nocturnai, my family no longer had to scrape for coin—traders gave Da double the commissions he used to receive, and paid almost double the price for each one. The fisherman could have charged me a full crescent before I walked away.
I cast him a small smile and shrugged before grabbing the rope ladder and climbing out of his boat.
“I’m supposed to wait, yeah?” he asked, clearly hoping that was the case. Now that he knew who I was, he wouldn’t accept such a small fee for the return trip.
“I’m sure Captain Altak will lower the ship’s dinghy and have a deckhand row me back, but thanks for your generous offer,” I said with a wink.
Sighing, he hefted the oars and pushed off. “Nightcallers,” he muttered in the same tone he’d used when calling me gutter not long before.
Upon the decks of Zyri’s Promise, the mood was somber, but not as fearful as the pervading feeling in town. Deckhands moved with a measure of seriousness. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were preparing the ship for a voyage. Maybe concern over the Ulstat situation had led Captain Altak to call for the preparations.
“Leaving?” I asked Gaff.
The big man shrugged. “Have to ask the captain about that,” he said. “He’s in his cabin with the first mate.”
Despite my worry for Raav, I smiled again at the thought of reuniting with Tkira. Though she had a coarse exterior, the woman had a knack for making me feel both comfortable and confident. Aside from my family, I couldn’t think of a group I’d rather trust than the senior crew and captain of Zyri’s Promise.
As it had been aboard the Nocturnai’s ship, the Evaeni, Captain Altak’s cabin was built above-deck rather than down in the hold where most of the crew lodged. Unlike the Evaeni, however, the captain’s new room was adorned with finery and treasures. To most, it would seem like vanity. But I knew why Captain Altak had stocked his chambers with magical items we’d found inside the ancient city, Ashkalan. He wanted to impress upon the traders the value of wresting Ioene from Mieshk Ulstat’s grip. Though we could never, in good conscience, nightforge another weapon, the secrets we’d uncover by healing the island would more than make up for the change.
The door to the cabin was open to the air. Inside, the curtains had been pulled back from glass windows that hadn’t become wavy or been shattered in the thousand years since the cataclysm destroyed the Vanished civilization. Sitting behind a polished wood desk, Captain Altak greeted me with a warm smile. I checked the sides of the room for Tkira, but didn’t spot her. Maybe she’d gone below. A disappointment, but in some ways, it would be easier to talk to the captain alone.
“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I thought I’d have to send a messenger. We need—”
“Captain, they took Raav.”
Whatever he’d planned to say was forgotten. “The Council?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Rot. Though I’m not all that surprised, I suppose.”
“What can we do?”
The image of Raav being marched to the prison, barefoot and proud, filled my thoughts. I felt my chest tighten.
He’s strong, Tyrak assured me.
My hand fell on the dagger in gratitude for his support. Captain Altak’s eyes followed my motion. “I see you’re bonding with the blade.”
“Tyrak is teaching me to defend myself.”
“Is that all? I’ve been thinking of your situation. In many ways, you were Zyri for a time. It can’t be easy for either of you.
Confusing, I imagine.”
At this, I blushed. Was I still confused, or had I managed to separate my memories from my reality? I thought of our training, the feeling of Tyrak’s illusory body so close to mine. Raav’s kiss so soon afterward. In truth, I was both confused and handling it. Both Lilik fighting to save her best friend and Zyri reunited with her lost love.
In truth, I’m struggling with it, Tyrak added.
That, at least, was a relief. I wasn’t alone in my turmoil. Things would be much worse if I felt this strange attraction to him and had it entirely rejected.
“Well . . .” I said, searching for words to describe my feelings.
“You know about me and Nyralit, I imagine.”
“I’d guessed based on the way you act together.”
Captain Altak brushed the rings in his ear with a finger, a habit he often used when ordering his thoughts. “We’ve been together for many years. But as you know, trader and commoner don’t mix. I might be a Nocturnai captain, but it doesn’t change that I was seaborn. Son of a simple deckhand. Her family would never have it. We tried to call it off lots of times. But in the years between Nocturnais, we took the Evaeni to many distant ports. Rules are different in other lands. The times we were back here and had to hide our relationship were challenging. Excruciating sometimes. It’s not the same thing, I know. But the echo of a love, no matter how distant, is powerful. It’s not wrong to be confused.”
“Thanks, Captain Altak.”
“Have you considered calling me Vidyul?” he asked. “We’re no longer on a Nocturnai, nor are you crew on my ship.”
I shook my head. The thought had never occurred to me. The only person I’d heard calling him anything but Captain was the strandmistress, and I didn’t feel ready for that level of familiarity.
“Well, think about it. I’d rather be your friend and equal than hold on to some status I have no right to.”
“You sailed us to Ioene and brought us home. You’ll always be my captain,” I said.
He shrugged. “Fair enough. At any rate, the offer stands. Vidyul or Captain, it’s all the same to me.”
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 33
