Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set

by Carrie Summers

  I didn’t know whether she was joking, so I nodded politely as I climbed into the boat. After Raav had joined me, Caffari shoved the winch arm to swing the dinghy over the water. Working the crank, she lowered us to the sea.

  Raav took up the oars and started pulling for Zyri’s Promise. Our little boat rocked over the wavelets, wiggled and bounced when either of us adjusted position. As we neared the Vanished ship, the knot in my chest hardened. It was getting difficult to breathe.

  I squinted over the bay, glints of sunlight sharp against the backs of my eyes. “I’m not sure I can do this,” I said quietly.

  Raav nudged his toes against my calf. “You can. I’ve seen you do much harder things.”

  “Like destroying House Ulstat in a column of flame? This is different. Maybe we should wait to tell him until the fight for Ioene is over.”

  Raav narrowed his eyes at me. I knew what he was thinking. I’d never been good at telling the truth when a lie was easier.

  But it wasn’t just my cowardice that made me want to avoid this conversation. What if Captain Altak’s grief kept him from commanding his ship? What if there was another storm? We needed his experience at the helm.

  “If it were you,” Raav said, “I would want to know.”

  “But she’s already gone. Whether he finds out now or later won’t change the situation.”

  “Come on, Lilik. I know this won’t be easy, but you can’t lie to him. It’s just not what a friend should do.”

  I flinched. My family still didn’t know about my deception with the nightstrands, and I’d hidden things from Paono until it was almost too late. Deep down, I often worried that people would abandon me if they knew the truth.

  Just like now, I worried that Captain Altak would hate me for being there when Nyralit died. What if he’d always resent me as the person who delivered the news of her death?

  The truth was, if no one else knew about her death, I might not be strong enough to tell the truth. I might even let him search for her after we retook Ioene. All because I was too weak to face his grief.

  But today, I had no choice. He’d find out what happened on Araok Island from someone. It might as well be me.

  We reached Zyri’s Promise just minutes after the delegation returned from the meeting with the locals. Tkira dropped a ladder for Raav and me. The ropes swayed back and forth as I climbed, cordage dried by the salt air rough beneath my hands. When I climbed over the rail, Captain Altak’s wide grin filled my view. Holding aloft a jug of what appeared to be whiskey, he called out, “Figured I better rush this back to my crew after last night’s efforts. Welcome aboard, Councilor Boket!”

  Tyrak had been silent since I woke. But now, he brushed me with a tendril of encouragement. Swallowing, I planted my feet on the deck and looked around, only to stagger when a large hand clapped me on the shoulder.

  “Now that we have our leader back, I’ve no doubt Ioene will be ours,” Jet said.

  I turned to face the man I’d thought of as my general during the battle for Istanik. He looked the same. Earnest and loyal. The only real difference was a slight pallor in his color. Like me he probably had, a tendency for seasickness after a life spent on land.

  “So, you’ve met Caffari,” I said. “What do you think of the Midnight?” I asked, my eyes flitting between Jet and Captain Altak.

  A small crowd had gathered around us, a mixture of crew members from the Nocturnai and new recruits. Tkira stepped forward, a scowl twisting the scar that slashed across her cheek and brow.

  “Glad to see you’ve made new friends,” she said. “But we thought you were dead, you know. Saw that rotted Ulstat schooner explode and sink. Just barely got clear when we glimpsed someone putting a torch to the fuse. Might have been nice if you’d found a way to get word to us.”

  If I hadn’t known Tkira, I might have bristled at her words. But the harsh scolding was just her way of showing she cared.

  “Nice to see you too, Tkira.”

  Smirking, I scanned the gathered crew for another face. Gaff, the second mate, was nowhere to be seen. He’d been injured in the same attack that had led to Nyralit’s capture by the Ulstats.

  As if noticing the growing worry on my face, Tkira stepped closer. “Gaff’s fine. Just recuperating and ordering people around with the butt of his crutch. Your mother and that old woman—grandmother to your Paono—are working with the Council to begin repairs and set up temporary leadership. And your mother has been hard at work caring for Istanik’s orphans. She’s quite dedicated to them.”

  Making up for the years she lost with Jaret and me. The memory still stung, but it was easier to handle now. Raav’s hand pressed against my lower back, urging me away from the rail. With the mention of Gaff’s injury, the question of Nyralit’s fate wouldn’t be far behind.

  My eyes met Captain Altak’s. Maybe something in my expression warned of the news to come. Or maybe he sensed it in another way. In any case, a curtain of doubt fell over his face.

  “We should speak alone,” I said.

  Eyes suspicious, the captain nodded. As he gestured for me to lead the way to his cabin, Raav fell in behind. I turned and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I’d like to speak to the captain by myself.”

  Raav’s eyebrows twitched in surprise, but he nodded. “I’ll catch up with our other friends while I wait,” he said.

  My eyes flicked to the captain. Tension roosted on his frame. I needed to get this over quickly to spare him the agony of suspense.

  “Thanks,” I said quietly before leading the way to the cabin.

  We entered the small room, Captain Altak quietly shutting the door behind us. He still carried the jug of whiskey in one hand, and now raised it. “Why do I get the feeling I won’t be celebrating today?”

  Pressing my lips together, I stepped around the table and sat on the bench behind it. The wood was smooth and warm beneath my palms, but not slick. I remembered scenes from Zyri’s time, how the Vanished shipwrights had worked a particular resin into their wood planks. When fresh, it had smelled like licorice. More importantly, it protected the wood from decay. Zyri’s Promise was more than a thousand years old, yet her hull and furniture was as sound as the day she was launched.

  Captain Altak had taken the seat across from me. I raised my gaze to his face, taking in the week’s worth of stubble that forested his jaw, the lines etched by many years at sea, the row of gold earrings shining in his right ear. He blinked, and the knot of cartilage at his throat rose and fell when he swallowed.

  “Nyralit wanted me to tell you it gave her joy to know you escaped Trader Ulstat’s ambush.”

  His jaw worked while he nodded. The captain’s features seemed locked behind a mask just barely tacked in place. One slip and his true feelings would break free.

  “My guess is she was held prisoner aboard that schooner. Same as you. Got free before it sank.”

  There was no hint of accusation in his voice, but I felt it all the same. I’d been with her, and if she was gone, it meant I’d failed to protect her.

  “She saved my family, Captain.” I paused, curling my toes inside my shoes. “In Istanik Harbor, you asked me to call you Vidyul. I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to.”

  He blinked as he nodded. “It’s your choice.”

  I swallowed. “Vidyul, Nyralit was wounded during my family’s escape from the Ulstat manor house. An Ulstat guard got his sword past her defenses. The rest of us had to run, or they’d have captured or killed us all.”

  The captain’s face started to twist. His hands, thick fingers relaxed upon the tabletop, began to tremble. Outside, gulls shrieked. Pulleys in the rigging rattled against masts when a breeze knocked the ship.

  “But you don’t know for sure. You saw her take a sword and then…?” He trailed off as if hoping I’d finish the sentence in a way that would give him hope.

  “For a time, I didn’t know for sure. But I know now, Vidyul. I spoke to her. To her spirit, I mean.”

  The m
an’s eyes closed. Emotions crossed his face, one after the other. Sadness, grief, anger.

  “She loved you—loves you still. She has no doubt you’ll be together again. None of this makes it easier. I know that.”

  His jaw clenched as he opened his eyes. Eyes like the hard gray flint of the crags in the Outer Isles. “The Ulstats did this.”

  “It was Ashhi’s plot. She’s dead now, but her father still lives. I’m sorry.”

  He wrapped one large hand around the other and fixed his gaze on the tabletop. When he spoke, his voice was flat. “We need to be ready to sail before sunset. Please tell Tkira to see to our preparations.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek as I stood. “Captain—Vidyul, can I do anything for you?”

  He shook his head, eyes still locked to the table before him. “I’m glad it was you that told me. Nyralit cared for you deeply. She’d want you to deliver the news. But now I need time alone.”

  Hesitantly, I laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed before heading for the door. The glare outside set my head pounding again. For a moment, the ache in my chest was too much to handle. But I swallowed and stepped out in search of Raav. We had a war to win.

  Chapter Three

  THE FIRST TIME I’d crossed the night line, I was a seventeen-year-old girl trapped in a lie. I’d been afraid of being discovered. I was hiding the truth from my best friend and fighting a daily battle against my guilt. But I hadn’t regretted what I’d done. The Nocturnai had been an opportunity to drag my family from the gutter and to prove I was worth more than the traders claimed.

  I was naïve.

  But I was brave, even then.

  As the Midnight approached the night line, cresting heaving waves and sliding into their troughs, the sun plummeted toward the horizon. Ahead, a dark line crossed the sea as if a storm front hung low over the water. But the sky above was cloudless, and on the horizon, stars pricked the sky. Zyri’s Promise, her sail a glowing beacon over the black waters, had already crossed into the night.

  During our last crossing, the days had been growing short beforehand. Our journey into night had been gradual. Nyralit had explained that the transition to darkness varied with every Nocturnai. The unpredictability was a result of the first cataclysm, I now understood. During the times of the Vanished civilization, the coming of the long-night was always a gentle transition. But after Mavek’s Hands had shattered the balance between fire and aurora, bringing on storms and destruction, the change of seasons had become violent and unpredictable. Sometimes night fell without warning, arriving like a thunderclap. Occasionally, night and day fought for control over the land.

  I thought of the sudden nightfall on Araok Island. Together with Leesa Ulstat’s congregation of spirits, I’d cleansed the aether of the malice-filled Ulstat souls who had given darkness a foothold. But unless Mieshk was stopped, I had no doubt that night would win the Kiriilt Islands eventually.

  Despite what lay ahead, I felt a thrill of anticipation as our ship cut a course for the looming darkness. Finally, I would end this. I’d join Paono, rescuing him after weeks and weeks of facing Mieshk alone. I’d have a chance to speak to Peldin, the Vanished spokesman. Zyri and I might finally communicate, not as before when her memories had filled my head, but as young woman to young woman. I could be a conduit for her reunion with Tyrak. And maybe with the living and the dead working together, we could restore Ioene to the paradise she had once been.

  As the sun winked out, its last rays kissing the top of the mainmast, I closed my eyes and probed the aether for contact with the nightstrands waiting ahead. But we were still too far from the island. Aside from my connection with Tyrak, only emptiness answered my call. The aether was vast and formless. Yet at the very fringe of my perception, I still had the sense—first experienced on Araok Island—that a great malevolence lurked.

  Unlike the Nocturnai’s voyage, where we kept the custom of burning only red flames, cheery yellow glow spilled from the ship’s lanterns when the crewmen set the wicks alight.

  Raav was manning the helm. I paused beside him, stood on tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. The smile he gave me warmed me from the inside out.

  Pulling my cloak tighter over the leather armor I now wore at all times, I turned for the ladder. As I moved about the ship, I was careful not to fiddle with the straps holding my armor in place. Caffari’s band had insisted on the extra protection, but they also laughed when I squirmed in response to its chafing. My discomfort might have been humorous at first, but it wouldn’t be now. Not with darkness surrounding us. The people aboard this ship needed a leader, not a novice who couldn’t handle sleeping in armor.

  Inside my cabin, Tyrak slipped the bounds of the dagger. His ghostly presence joined me as I sat on my bunk, a quiet companionship that demanded nothing of me. When I opened my hand, I felt his warm palm slide over mine, our fingers clasping.

  I’m worried I won’t live up to everyone’s faith in me, I said.

  I’m sure every leader in history has thought the same thing. But they kept going, and that’s what matters.

  We were silent for a while as the boat rocked and heaved around us.

  I’m nervous too, he said at last.

  About?

  Zyri. A thousand years is a long time to be separated. What if her feelings have changed?

  They haven’t. I had her memories, remember. All of them. To her, your lives together feel like they were yesterday.

  For me, too. A wave of nostalgia joined his words. Just one step back in time, and we’re together on a beach during the long-day. Another, and I remember diving into the waves together when we were little.

  I remember playing at one of those beaches with you. You were a skinny little kid.

  But I grew up, he said in a tone that sent my belly fluttering. I’m sure you remember some details about that, too.

  The blood rushed to my face as I recalled his lips on mine and the feel of his strong arms around me. On Araok Island, I’d talked to him and Raav. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d explained the confusion I felt by having held Zyri’s memories of Tyrak. Most importantly, I’d declared my intent to be with Raav exclusively. But I couldn’t keep the memories of loving Tyrak from affecting me sometimes.

  Sorry, Lilik. I didn’t mean to bring that back up.

  I squeezed his hand before releasing it. Soon enough, he’d be reunited with Zyri, and the awkwardness would be over.

  Slipping out of my shoes—I was not going to sleep in those, even if I’d agreed to keep the armor on—I crawled under the covers and pillowed my head on my arm. As I sank toward slumber, images of Ioene’s burning crown danced before my eyes.

  And behind it, looming evil swirled.

  Chapter Four

  AT THE FIRST glimpse of Ioene smoldering on the horizon, every rogue and thief aboard the Midnight rushed to the forward rail. Cold awe settled over the group, and they parted to allow me through the crowd. Laying hands on the rail, I watched the mountain burn, red fire tumbling down all sides, steam billowing to join the tower of ash above the peak.

  Ioene. I closed my eyes and cast my thoughts into the aether.

  Peldin?

  Silence echoed my thoughts.

  Hello?

  As I stared at the volcano, listening to the absolute stillness in Ioene’s aether, frigid unease filled my heart. Were the strands gone? And what about Paono?

  I left the rail, trying to keep a determined and confident expression on my face. Mieshk couldn’t have fed all the spirits to Ioene—her power had grown, but the devastation wasn’t yet close to the cataclysm caused by Mavek’s Hands. Besides, even though the lava ran higher from the mountain’s crown, the aurora still shimmered above the ash plume. Fire hadn’t won. Not yet. There had to be another explanation.

  Large waves still rolled beneath Shards of Midnight. Timing my movements to work with the heaving deck, I made my way toward the helm. With each wave that threw the vessel high, I stopped and clutched something solid—piles
of cargo lashed to the decks, a mast, the rail. Caffari smirked at my slow progress while I approached.

  Unlike me, she stood at ease on the swaying deck, fingers lightly pinching the pegs on the wheel. But when she looked from me to the approaching volcano, a mix of awe and nervousness fell over her face.

  “Well, we made it,” she said.

  “How long before we reach the shore?” I hoped it would be soon. I wanted to get close enough to contact the Vanished and dispel this worry about the empty aether.

  Caffari squinted ahead. “About that… Seems your captain predicted true.” She gestured with her chin toward the sea before our ship. “You can just start to see the spray coming off sections of reef. Vidyul said the shoals were a hazard in calm water. We won’t have a chance of navigating them in this swell.”

  Peering, I could just barely make out the phosphorescence in the spray that fountained where waves crashed on the lava reef.

  I’d forgotten about the shoals. They were an obstacle even during calm seas. When the Nocturnai’s ship, the Evaeni, had approached the island, I’d been hit on the head during the chaos as the crew contended with the difficult navigation. I’d lost my figurine and set off a cascade of troubles.

  Surely, the shoals would be impossible to sail through with waves this size.

  Off the port bow, Zyri’s Promise had stopped. Silhouetted by Ioene’s fires, her crew scuttled about the deck, lowering and furling her shimmering sail. The glowing colors winked out, extinguished when shrouded with an ordinary canvas tarp. We wouldn’t hide our presence from Mieshk indefinitely, but for now, stealth was better.

  “Boss?” Daonok asked as he trotted over, as comfortable on the rolling deck as Caffari.

  The bandit leader nodded. “We’ll bring down our sails too. Get a handful of crew on the rigging, the rest on the oars.”

  Caffari’s right-hand man cast her a wry smile. “They going to draw straws for who has to pull the oars like a slave and who gets to coil a few ropes?”