Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set

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Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 59

by Carrie Summers


  “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” I asked.

  “Time was short inside. I told you as soon as I finished defending myself from your friend’s accusations.”

  At this, Nyralit rolled her eyes, but she didn’t respond.

  “Listen,” Ashhi said. “I’ll do everything I can to give you time. I can’t promise to keep your family safe if you’re not back by dawn, but I have some ideas. At the very least, I have years of experience dealing with my father.”

  “And if we’re unsuccessful in recruiting help?” Nyralit said.

  “I’d hoped to have more time to work on freeing Lilik’s family, but I’ll wait in the great room for your return. If you can’t gather support and you return before dawn, we can try to free them before most of the guards wake. Or,” she said with an ironic smirk. “You can keep trusting their lives to my father’s honor.”

  “We can work on our plans inside the mine, Nyralit,” I said. “If this is our only chance, we shouldn't waste time.”

  Nyralit dropped her arms to her side. “All right. Let’s go.”

  Ashhi once again took the lead, small feet shushing against the flagstones. She cast her voice over her shoulder as she continued toward the stone wall at the rear of the compound. “I know it’s not much time to organize an attack. But I heard what you did on Istanik. So maybe there's a chance.”

  When we were within ten paces of the wall, Ashhi turned for an unused stable. Although the stonework of the walls remained in decent repair, slate shingles were missing from the roof, and many years of birds’ nests plastered the rafters. After ducking beneath a spider web that covered the upper half of the entrance, we filed along the row of stalls, the wood shrunken and old. Where the last stall should have stood, a staircase descended beneath the stable. It ended at a heavy iron door with a small, barred window in the center. Massive hinges were bolted to solid stone. Though the door was old and rusted, the lock had been recently replaced.

  As I took my first step down the staircase, a shiver traveled my spine. The situation felt off, but I couldn’t be sure why. I glanced at Nyralit and caught her swallowing, eyes darting. My hand fell on Tyrak.

  From the pocket of her tailored jacket, Ashhi pulled out the key. I looked at it, faintly nervous. I hadn’t expected the entrance to have a door, and especially not a lock.

  As Ashhi opened the door, I shared a glance with Nyralit.

  “We’ll keep the key,” the former strandmistress said.

  Ashhi ignored her and lifted a lantern and a small leather bag from a hook. She pulled a flint from the bag and struck a flame onto the lantern’s wick. After turning up the light, she extended her hand into the passage beyond the door, casting a cheery orange glow on the hewn stone.

  “The key?” I asked.

  Ashhi shook her head. “There’s just one, and I stole it from my father. He might not notice it missing before dawn, but if he does, this whole plan is ruined. Your family dies, Raav and I get married at sunrise, and my father sends his guards into the city with orders to bring you to the gallows.”

  She held the lantern out to me. I bit the inside of my cheek, uncertainty tearing me apart.

  “Just go,” she said, frustrated now. “I won't lock it, but don’t you see that I’m in as much danger over this is you are? The longer we stand here, the worse our chances get.”

  Finally, I sighed. I took the handle of the lantern and stepped into the dark passage. After a moment’s hesitation, Nyralit followed.

  The door clanged shut behind us, sealing us into the echoing stone tunnel. Abruptly, I felt a surge of unease and spun toward the window. Our lantern’s glow fell on Ashhi’s face as she peered back at us. After a moment, she grinned. From within the door, I heard the click of tumblers falling into place.

  “I believe you gutterborn have a saying,” she said. “Never trust a trader.”

  Nyralit slammed her shoulder against the door as I yanked Tyrak from his sheath. Ashhi laughed.

  “I think I’ll quite enjoy my new husband,” she said. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

  Before I could respond, she turned and stalked up the stairs, hips swaying.

  My throat hurt from screaming, and the meaty parts of my fists were bruised from pounding the iron door. Still, I kicked at the metal and yanked on the bars of the window. Once again, I ran my hand down the edge of the door, wishing for a keyhole. But the only access to the lock was from outside. Behind me, Nyralit sat on the floor, elbows on knees and head cradled in her hands.

  Lilik, Tyrak said gently. It’s no use.

  “He’ll kill my family, Tyrak,” I said aloud.

  If you’re still standing here at dawn, pounding on a locked door and screaming in the basement of a building that hasn’t been used for decades, yes, your family will be hurt. Or worse. So do something. Move on.

  “I should’ve been more suspicious,” Nyralit said. “I knew Ashhi’s grandmother before she died. The woman could charm the skin off a snake, only to force it to eat its own young.”

  Tell her we all missed it, Tyrak said.

  “Tyrak said she had us all fooled,” I said.

  “Even so, I’m the only trader among us. I know how they think. Specifically, I know how the Ulstats think.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Nyralit.” I leaned my forehead against the door. “I don’t even think it was my fault. She did everything right. I gave her the idea by asking the healer about the passage, but I’m sure she would have found another way to get rid of us.”

  Nyralit tugged at her hair. “I wonder why she didn’t offer to just sneak us past the gate.”

  “This way, not even the guards know where we are.”

  But she also knows there’s a way out, Tyrak said. Most likely, it’s much harder to get out of here than she claimed. If I were in her position, though, I’d make sure you didn’t get out of this mine. At least one guard is directly loyal to her . . .

  My hand fell to the dagger. “We need to go, Nyralit. And carefully.”

  Nyralit looked up at me, smoothing her silks over the knobs of her knees. “What happens after we get out? We can’t organize a resistance before dawn. Ashhi played on our panic upon hearing her father had rescheduled the departure. And we can’t just fight our way back through the gate and pretend we never left.”

  “We’ve beaten the Ulstats twice before, right?” I said, pasting on an expression that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t a frown either.

  That’s my girl, Tyrak said. Keep repeating it, and eventually you’ll believe it too.

  With a nod and a heavy sigh, Nyralit stood and peered down the tunnel. Grabbing the lantern, I stepped out in front, my footfalls echoing off the stone walls. As I walked, I felt the distance from my family grow.

  Because the tunnel had been dug to provide access to an existing mine, the corridor ran straight. The only rooms opening off it looked like they might have been quarters for the prison guards. As we descended deeper beneath the earth, the walls grew damp, and water flowed in steady trickles to pool on the floor. Nyralit’s slippers were soon soaked, the colors of the embroidery running and staining the surrounding fabric. In her layers of silk, I knew she must be cold—I saw her shiver more than once—but she said nothing of it and didn’t mention her sodden feet.

  Finally, we reached the junction where the access tunnel met the mine. My heart sank. I’d hoped that we’d find a sloped corridor, something to indicate which direction we needed to turn to reach the surface. Unfortunately, the access tunnel opened into a large chamber, flat-floored, with half a dozen passages leading out. With the lantern held high, I shuffled into the chamber and squinted at the darkened openings.

  To my right, the tunnels’ mouths appeared rougher, coarsely hewn from the rock. Did that mean they’d seen less traffic? I assumed that the upper reaches of the mine had been excavated with more care. Then again, during the period the mine served as a prison, the deeper tunnels might have been widened and smoothed. I swallowed, re
alizing I had no idea how deep the system of tunnels went. Even if we tried to explore the passages in a methodical way, it could take days to travel every tunnel.

  “I think we should just pick one unless you have a better idea,” I said to Nyralit.

  She shrugged. “I’ll follow you.”

  I tried to imagine the terrain above our heads. The exit to the mine wouldn’t be in the middle of Ilaraok, but it would likely be near the edge. Unless I’d gotten turned around, it seemed the city lay to our right. I started for the smoothest of the entrances leading in that direction.

  At the sudden hiss of metal sliding through leather, my heart vaulted into my throat. I slapped my hand onto Tyrak’s hilt, yanked the dagger free, and whirled. Nyralit looked as startled as I felt, one hand over her breastbone, the other curled into a fist as she pressed her back against the wall. I backpedaled to her side and set the lantern on the floor. Eyes roving, I strained to pick details from the dark mouths of the tunnels.

  Moments later, a woman in leather armor stepped from a corridor directly opposite us, followed by a pair of men with gleaming eyes and glinting gems in their earlobes. They raised weapons, the blades well-kept and oiled.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE WOMAN STEPPED forward, her dark hair pulled back in a braid at the nape of her neck. The hardened leather of her armor did nothing to disguise the strength in her arms. She raised her chin and looked down her nose at us.

  I swallowed, not feeling good about the odds.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “Ashhi can’t pay you as much as I can.” It was a total bluff, but I didn’t see what I had to lose. If Ashhi had used House guards, the offer of money wouldn’t mean much. But the lack of sigils on these people’s armor told me they were mercenaries. Probably hired just today from some Ilaraok back alley.

  The woman appeared off-balanced by my comment. “Am I to understand you want to buy your way past us?”

  Behind her, a man raised his short sword and stepped in my direction. My hand landed on Tyrak.

  “I’ll add something from my coffers as well,” Nyralit added. “Ashhi is neither heir nor prime. And her father knows nothing of her plans.”

  “Any idea what these traders are talking about, boys?” the woman asked. She made a point of rubbing her knuckles on the front of her armor, polishing the brass that covered them. “Because as far as I can tell, we’ve got some friends of the Ulstats ruining their shoes in our territory.” She glanced at Nyralit’s feet.

  My gaze shot to Nyralit. Were these not, actually, fighters sent by Ashhi? More likely, the woman was toying with us.

  “If it matters to you,” I said, “neither of us is a trader. I’m gutterborn. If you’re an honest Kiriilti Islander, how can you take a trader’s side over a commoner?”

  The woman laughed. “That’s funny. I haven’t been called an honest Kiriilti since . . . Well, never.”

  “What can we offer to convince you not to hand us over?” Nyralit asked.

  “Hand you over? Don’t know why you think I’d bother to ransom you. The fact is, you found your way down here. By your clothing, I know you’re with the Ulstats. So frankly, I can’t let you back to the surface no matter what you offer. Because Trader Ulstat cannot know we’re here.”

  “Listen,” I said. “We aren’t traders. We aren’t friends of the Ulstats. And if Ashhi sent you, please understand that she speaks only lies.”

  I’m pretty sure Ashhi didn’t send these people, Tyrak said.

  Agreed. But if she did, there’s still a chance we can turn them. I can’t imagine anyone loves the Ulstats.

  “If you’re trying to confuse me, I’d say you’re doing a decent job,” the woman said with an eyebrow raised. “But it won't help you get out of here.”

  “Listen, I don’t want to hurt anyone.” I raised Tyrak, prompting a laugh from one of the men. Okay, maybe I wasn’t in a position to make threats. But I was running out of ideas.

  “Like I said . . .” the woman said. “House Ulstat hasn’t discovered our presence in the last ten years we’ve called this place home, and I don’t see that we should change that now. The question is, what do we do with you?”

  Nyralit stepped from the wall. “Why do you assume we’re enemies?”

  The woman’s glare shot to Nyralit, shutting down her protest. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  Nyralit shook her head. “Obviously not, especially if you’ve lived beneath the Ulstats’ feet for this long. But if you weren’t hired by Ashhi Ulstat, we’re on the same side.”

  One of the men leaned to the woman’s ear, speaking in a false whisper. “Might be fun to watch the young one try to fight.”

  “But combat is so barbaric,” the woman said. “Let’s just grab them. We’ll talk this over somewhere where we’re less . . . exposed.”

  I don’t think she’s going to give you directions to the surface, Tyrak said.

  Doesn’t seem that way, I returned.

  Ready? he asked, slipping the bounds of the dagger and wrapping his body around mine.

  Ready.

  We sprang. The woman was clearly the leader, so I fixed my gaze on her throat. In three long strides, I crossed the chamber, Tyrak’s energy joining mine. The henchmen had no time to react; only the woman was quick enough to raise a defense. Her brass knuckles caught me in the solar plexus, forcing the air from my lungs as my knee connected with her hip.

  The woman spun, deftly avoiding a slash of my blade. When my dagger caught empty air, I overbalanced and stumbled forward. Tossing out my free hand, I pushed off the wall and recovered, spinning to face her.

  The woman smirked. “Surprising agility for a trader.”

  I shook my head. There was no point in arguing, and conversation would only distract me.

  Having finally recovered from their shock at my sudden attack, the henchmen stepped forward to bracket the woman. I sidestepped, attempting to reach their flank. I couldn't fight all three at once, but if I figured out a diversion, I might still have a chance.

  Tyrak’s breath flowed through me, making me more graceful, more fluid than I could ever be alone. Left foot crossing in front of my right, I kept circling.

  Motion from the wall caught my eye just before a tongue of flame spilled across the chamber. Nyralit held the lantern at the base of a trail of lamp oil she’d splashed across the floor.

  The woman was too smart for the distraction, but the henchmen spun to look. I leaped, my foot landing in the crook of one of the men’s elbows, and used the foothold to leap at the woman’s shoulders. She got her knuckles up to block, and swung her free arm, loosing a throwing knife that whizzed past my ear.

  Her fist took me in the shoulder while my thigh hit her chest at an angle. We spun together, tumbling to the floor in a tangle. She grabbed my forearm in a grip as strong as a sailor’s. Tyrak shoved his strength into me, but it wasn’t enough. I wouldn't win against her while grappling.

  Twisting, I managed to free my arm and scramble away, but my retreat gave the woman an opening. She grabbed me from behind, wrapping her strong arm around my throat and squeezing. I jammed the butt end of my dagger into her thigh, prompting a grunt when I hit a nerve. Her grip loosened, and I dropped beneath the circle of her arm, following the motion with a bear-fisted uppercut to her chin.

  She reeled, and I got the edge of my blade at her throat just before a henchman laid a hand on my shoulder.

  “Touch me and she dies,” I said through gritted teeth.

  The blaze lit by Nyralit died, plunging us into darkness for a moment. I heard the rustle of clothing, the thud of an approaching footstep. I pressed my blade harder against the woman’s windpipe.

  “No closer,” she squeaked.

  The footsteps stopped.

  “Do we have another light, Nyralit?”

  “I don’t think so,” she responded. “Lilik . . . look.”

  Scanning the room, I spotted the glow coming from one of the tunnels. Moments later, a
dozen people spilled from the corridor, weapons drawn. At the rear, a pair of young boys carried torches. Upon taking in the scene, the men in front snarled.

  “Your leader will escort us out of here,” I informed them.

  Something seemed to pass between my captive and the men leading the band of newcomers. One of them nodded.

  “Sorry,” he said, “can’t let that happen.”

  “Then she dies,” I said.

  “Suit yourself. As long as you’re happy to be flayed alive afterward. Your friend, too.” His gaze flicked to Nyralit. My heart sank when I saw one of the newcomers, a woman, step forward with a rapier pointed at my friend’s heart.

  There’s no way we’ll get the advantage here, Tyrak said.

  Disgusted, I removed my dagger from the woman’s throat, sheathed it, and held up my hands.

  Rubbing her throat, the woman turned on me. “Well fought,” she said, honesty clear in her voice. “Unfortunately, I had the advantage in the end.” She glanced at my waist. “A nice blade. I think I’ll borrow it.”

  When she plucked Tyrak from my belt, I leaped for her and snared her wrist. In response, she gestured at the woman threatening Nyralit. The point of the rapier caught on Nyralit’s silks. I released my grip.

  “Years of smuggling and thieving, yet I’ve never owned a nightforged weapon,” she said.

  Smugglers . . . Maybe Ashhi had known they were down here all along. Maybe that had been her plan. Or maybe we’d just been unlucky.

  “You’ve made a mistake,” I said. “I swear we’re not who you think.”

  The woman rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re not,” she sneered. “I can tell by the fine cut of your clothing, your nightforged blade, your friend’s baby-soft skin . . .”

  Rough hands grabbed me. I threw my weight against the iron grips of my captors, but it did no good. A stiff rope wrapped my wrists; when the knot cinched tight, my bones ground together. From the gathered band, a pair of women shoved forward and grabbed my lower legs while someone else jabbed hands into my armpits. Together they lifted me from the ground. As I craned my neck, I saw others carrying Nyralit, somewhat more gently.

 

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