At the intersection of the hallway outside my bedroom with the main corridor leading through House Ulstat, I paused. Above me, a hanging chandelier burned the same dirty oil as the lanterns in my room. The ceiling above the fixture was black with soot. I stared with lip curled until the butler finally noticed me.
“Trader Ulstat is expecting you in his study,” the man said as he trotted over from the entryway. Behind him, I noticed three guards keeping watch over the front door. The men glared at me, hands on their weapons.
“Too bad he didn’t bother to give me directions.”
The man’s cheek twitched. Distaste for the Ulstats? Or was he offended at my tone?
“So, what awful circumstance made you choose to work for House Ulstat?” I asked as he led me deeper into the house.
I hadn’t really expected an answer; the butler’s silence didn’t surprise me. He stopped outside a stone archway and nodded toward the opening. I searched his eyes for clues to his loyalty; once I gained my first ally, they’d likely help me find more. But he just stared impassively at the opposite side of the corridor.
Shrugging, I strode past him into the study.
Trader Ulstat sat behind a massive desk carved of black wood. Along the walls, shelves held scrolls and ledgers. A polished sphere of green stone veined with gold rested on a cushion of leather on the corner of the desk. Otherwise, the room was devoid of decoration.
The Ulstat prime sneered at me, setting down his quill. It looked like he’d been sketching a map. I cocked my head. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was working on understanding Ioene’s terrain.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
He showed his teeth. “I’ve been informed you like to savor your food. But no matter, I simply took the opportunity to speak to your companions first.”
Something in his tone made me wary. “What do you want?”
Trader Ulstat shuffled the papers in front of him. Most were filled with a messy scrawl—letters and instructions—but one I recognized as a tally of ships and rations. He’d already declared his intent to sail for Ioene, but the numbers made my fingertips tingle in uncomfortable surprise. I’d assumed he’d lost most of his fleet in the battle for Istanik. And with the number of guardsmen arriving at the gate, he had plenty of fighters with which to fill those ships. I curled my toes inside my shoes.
“It’s fairly simple,” he said. “I need information on Ioene. You and your friends have that. You’ll give it to me.”
I laughed. “You still think you can convince us to help you? After everything you’ve done? You do realize what will happen if Mieshk isn’t stopped—”
He cut me off with a sharp slash of his quill through the air. “Don’t you ever forget who holds the authority in this house. I’ve been a gracious host, and I don’t care to be condescended to. I told you what I need. You’ll supply it. It’s that simple.”
I looked away, gritting my teeth. I had to remember he held my father and brother hostage.
“Now, my first question regards the followers remaining with my daughter. How many would you estimate are capable of fighting with any level of competence?” He dipped his quill into the inkpot and held it poised over a clean sheet of paper.
I shook my head in disbelief. Did he really think I'd give him anything of use?
A smile twisted the corner of his mouth. “Oh, and don’t think I’m so stupid as to trust you outright. I asked your companions the same question. If the answers differ, I’ll know one of you is lying. Tell the truth, I’ll keep you alive. Otherwise . . .” He twirled his letter opener upon the tabletop then picked it up and stabbed the air. “If you volunteer more specifics than I’m asking for, I’ll even consider having food and drink delivered to your family. They are getting rather weak.”
Rot. No doubt he’d made the same threat to Raav and Nyralit. What had they decided to do? They’d told the truth, most likely. Better to give up information and stay alive to stop Trader Ulstat from using it.
“Now,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “how many fighters does Mieshk have?”
He could probably figure out the answer anyway. I glared at him while I estimated.
“Probably fifty. Not many have actual training in combat.” I spat the words.
His smile was insincere as he jotted the number on the paper. “Good. You are easier to manipulate than I thought.”
Stomping forward, I slapped my palms on the polished wood of his desk and leaned forward. “I will stop Mieshk from unleashing a cataclysm.”
Only the slight tic in one of his lower eyelids betrayed his emotion at having me yelling in his face. Leaning back, he rested his hands on the arms of his chair. “I’d admire your confidence if it came with the ability to control your tongue. As it is, I hope you’ll spend the day considering who and what you’re willing to sacrifice for your pride.”
“Pride has nothing to do with this. We’re all dead if your daughter remains in power.”
The trader’s eyes narrowed. “And if I have to tell you again, you will regret speaking out of turn. Let me worry about my daughter.” He flapped the stack of papers, narrowly avoiding smacking me under the chin. “You and your companions will join me for the midday meal. Leave now.”
My fingernails dragged across the wood of the desk as I withdrew. Standing tall, I turned for the door. When I stepped into the hall, motion from deeper in the house caught my eye. Ashhi was quick, but not quick enough. As she turned the corner, feet whispering against stone, I had no doubt she’d been listening in.
“Unfortunately,” Trader Ulstat said, “one of you lied.” He grabbed the leg of the roast piglet on the giant platter before him and yanked. With a pop, the shoulder joint gave way, and the flesh parted with a wet tearing.
My heart stuttered. Had he called us here to make an example of one of us? Staring, I waited for him to continue, but the man said nothing.
Unlike the rest of the house, the ceiling in the Ulstat dining hall soared high above us, shadowy even with the candelabras burning. Large enough to seat twelve, the table was set with silver dishes and crystal goblets. Our glasses held tepid water, and boiled potatoes were the only food on our plates. In defiance of my mind, my mouth watered at the sight of the meat in front of the trader.
Raav plucked his fork and knife from the table and sliced into his potato as if it were the finest catch from the sea surrounding Istanik. He then laid his knife across the back of his plate, displaying his perfect trader manners.
“Are you certain you remembered our answers correctly?” Raav asked. “The Ulstats aren’t known for their accounting.” Under the table, he pressed his knee against mine. The reassurance eased some of the knots from my shoulders. Given the clammy feeling in my palms, I was amazed at his calmness.
“You are insolent. It’s not a trait valued in a prime trader.” Trader Ulstat tore a bite of meat from the leg, juices running down his chin. He chewed and swallowed before continuing. “In any case, I’ve decided to give you a chance to redeem yourselves with tomorrow’s questions. Perhaps you didn’t take my threat seriously. But I can’t let your lies go completely unpunished. Lilik’s family will probably survive without water until tomorrow, but if I’m mistaken, you’ll know where the fault lies.”
Anger buzzed around our end of the table. We sat clustered together while Trader Ulstat presided from the other end. I glanced at the silver knife beside my plate, judging its edge and the distance between me and the man’s throat. As if noticing the direction of my gaze, Nyralit laid a hand on my forearm. I swallowed, eyes darting to the guards that stood just outside the door. More troops. Since my morning meeting with Trader Ulstat, I’d made a few circuits of the house’s hallways and windows, making a tally of Ulstat guardsmen and watching their movements. Many were freshly recruited—they grimaced and tugged at chafing armor and practiced drawing their swords. But considering that they had weapons and outnumbered us ten to one, their inexperience didn’
t really matter.
What I hadn’t yet discovered was the location of this rear cellar where Trader Ulstat had imprisoned my family. I needed to find it. Today.
“Have you considered that we may have conflicting ideas on what makes a fighter?” Nyralit asked. “That alone could explain a difference in our answers.”
Trader Ulstat flashed a smile that looked more like a snarl. “Then maybe you should spend time educating one another.” With a slurp, he sucked a patch of skin off his meat.
Raav speared my potato and sliced off a portion. He nudged my chin up and slipped the bite into my mouth. “You need to eat,” he said. “No matter who served you.”
“That’s sweet,” Trader Ulstat said. “Your mother would have been proud. Speaking of, I don’t believe I’ve extended my condolences yet. Truly sorry for your loss, Trader Ovintak.”
My hands clawed my knees with the effort of keeping calm. Raav clasped my chin between his index finger and thumb, forcing me to keep my face turned towards his. I tried to swivel my head to retort, but his grip only grew firmer.
“It’s what he wants,” Raav said. “Don’t give it to him.”
Trader Ulstat’s goblet banged the table, hard enough I thought it would shatter. Raav had angered him. Good.
Smiling sweetly at the trader, I picked up my knife and fork and cut the next bite for myself. Behind Trader Ulstat, a servant stood with her back against the wall, a hint of a smile touching her lips. I inhaled, recovering some of the determination I’d felt shortly after Trader Ulstat had captured us.
I wouldn’t let him win.
“I believe I’ve had enough,” Trader Ulstat said. “There’s much to do before we sail for Ioene.”
“The rest of your meal, sir?” the servant asked as she approached the table.
Trader Ulstat looked directly at me as he answered. “Feed it to the dogs.”
Chapter Six
AFTER WE’D FINISHED eating, Raav tapped his fork against his plate. “Trader Ulstat and I need to have a longer talk,” he said.
His tone brought me up short. “About what?”
“I’m prime trader for a major House,” he said, nostril flaring. “It’s time I use my leverage. I’ll meet him prime to prime. A gentlemanly discussion.”
Raav’s eyes smoldered with anger as he stood. I knew better than to argue as he stalked from the room.
Nyralit glanced at his retreating back. “Raav can handle himself,” she said quietly. “Let’s take a walk through the grounds.”
I nodded. Open air would give us privacy and a chance to investigate escape routes before Trader Ulstat killed us for giving a wrong answer.
On the way to the rear of the house, the main corridor passed the kitchens, full of the sound of pots banging and water running. I glanced inside, earning a glare from a busy cook. At the end of the hall, a wide archway opened into a great room. Scattered throughout the chamber were a few leather-covered couches with blankets of fur spread across their backs. The dead animals still had heads and feet attached. At one end of the room, a wide hearth stood before a fireplace big enough to stand inside. The coals were dead and hadn’t been shoveled. When Nyralit nudged open the rear door of the house, ash from the fireplace swirled in the draft.
Outside, smoke-hazed sunlight fell on my face. Far across the desolate grounds, guards patrolled the inside of the boundary wall. Closer, thorn-tangled paths wove around scattered buildings and jagged boulders. Hidden among islands of dead foliage, I spotted storage sheds, a blacksmithing shop, and a well with no bucket on the winch. The storage sheds were the most likely spot to find this rear cellar, though I didn’t spot anyone standing guard near one.
I gestured at a graveled path, raising my eyebrows in question.
Nyralit shrugged. “Seems as good as any.”
Despite her casual words, however, she set off quickly, bound for the closest storage building. I hurried, suddenly curious. Nyralit rarely rushed. She must have something important to say. As I followed her gliding footsteps, I felt a fresh wave of respect for her. A day ago, she’d watched her beloved sail to his doom. But she’d gathered her courage, armoring herself against the grief. I could learn from her.
At the edge of the storage building, she ducked around the wall so that we were hidden from the house. Despite the lack of care, a rosebush had managed to survive and spread small, wrinkled leaves at the building’s corner, providing a screen from other paths. As I ducked in beside her, Nyralit traced a finger over her nightforged bracelet, an iridescent steel chain that writhed on her wrist. At least the Ulstats hadn’t taken that from her.
Up close, Nyralit smelled of cinnamon and incense. The scent reminded me of nightcaller training aboard the Evaeni. Those sessions seemed so long ago . . .
“How did Trader Ulstat treat you? Were you hurt?” Just because she looked unharmed from the outside didn’t mean she hadn’t been mistreated during the days she’d been held captive before me.
She inhaled. “I’m all right. Mostly.”
“Nyralit . . . If anyone could escape that explosion, it’s the captain. You know that, right?” I clenched my fist, frustrated at myself. I’d been nurturing a tiny spark of hope. But it wasn’t fair to Nyralit to drag her into my fantasy.
Nyralit’s smile was melancholy. “Vidyul is not an easy man to kill. But the whole reason he got so close to the schooner was he thought we were aboard.”
“If he were alive, he’d think we were dead . . .”
“Most likely. In any case, we can’t expect rescue from Istanik.” She smiled at me, a watery expression. “But I have something for you. I’ve been waiting—Raav said we can’t say anything private within the walls.”
My brows drew together. “What?”
Pressing back into the building’s dark stone blocks, she reached into a fold of her silken garments. “It’s been tremendously difficult for me to wait, knowing how you must have missed it.”
I gasped as she pulled her hand from her hidden pocket. Wrapped in Nyralit’s elegant fingers, Tyrak’s ornate hilt drew me like metal to a lodestone. My knee banged the stone wall as I lunged forward. “Thank you,” I whispered.
She shrugged. “Thank yourself for convincing Trader Ulstat to unchain us in the longboat. I slipped it from his sheath when he wasn’t paying attention,” she said. “He probably thinks he lost it on the rough seas.”
“I noticed his sheath was empty,” I said, eyes welling. “I was sure the dagger had gone overboard.”
When she held the weapon out, I accepted it with shaking hands. Tyrak’s spirit exploded into my mind, his joy warming me from the inside out. My jaw trembled as I looked at Nyralit. “I can’t believe you took it without him knowing.”
“I’m a woman of many skills,” she said with a wry smile, inclining her head as if the theft had been no more difficult than teaching a group of young nightcallers the Chant of the Five.
Out of habit, I started to slip Tyrak into the empty sheath still belted at my waist. Nyralit’s lips parted to unleash an admonishment, but I corrected myself before she had the chance. I couldn’t just walk around with a dagger stuck through my belt. I’d have to search the loaned Ulstat garments for a jacket with a suitable pocket or hidden fold. For now, I pinned the hilt between my waistband and hipbone, the blade lying along the bare flesh of my thigh. I rested my hand on the outside of my trousers, feeling Tyrak beneath.
I thought you were lost, I said.
I know. I could sense your emotions, but I couldn’t break through.
My walls . . . I closed the door I leave for you because it took less effort to keep a solid barrier. And I was so tired.
No need for apologies.
I pressed my hand harder against him, grateful.
“Just don’t go charging into the house ready to take down the elite guardsmen,” Nyralit said, smirking.
“Okay. I’ll wait until half of them leave for supper,” I said.
Lilik . . .
I’m j
oking!
Well, it wouldn’t surprise me if you weren’t.
“In all seriousness, we have little time,” she said. As if to emphasize her point, a door swung open on a building about a hundred paces distant. Judging by the nearby archery target, an overstuffed canvas bolster with a stick figure painted on it, the empty liquor bottles tossed against the front wall, and the untidy scattering of weapons and armor, I guessed the building to be the guards’ barracks. A group of four soldiers filed out, laughing, hands on their weapons. One noticed us standing and pointed.
In the lead, a man with gray at his temples snarled, baring more gaps than teeth. “I hear the boss is a fan of hunting. He won’t mind much if we have a little sport with his guests, right?”
Another pulled a crossbow bolt from a small quiver at his hip. Nocking it on a hand-held bow, he squinted as if judging the distance. “My brother was aboard the siege ships. Took half my inheritance for my parents to outfit him as a guardsman, and now I had to spend the other half joining up.”
I took a step back, plucking at Nyralit’s silks to urge her to follow.
“’Course, the prime might be upset if we acted without permission. Well’s been dry for years, though. No reason to search for bodies there.”
The far corner of the building was about twenty paces behind us. If we ran, we’d lose the screen of the rosebush—not that it was offering much cover anyway. The bigger problem was turning our backs.
I thinned my walls, reaching for help from the aether.
Wait, Tyrak said. I don’t think Trader Ulstat knows about your ability. Don’t squander the advantage.
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 54
