Paono turned to face me. He hesitated as if wondering whether to ask permission before he snatched my hand. “It would be easier if you let me show you.”
I sat cross-legged, facing Paono in the center of the main temple. The stone tiles beneath me were neither hot nor cold. Mostly, I felt the tingle of Ioene’s energy pressing into me through the floor.
All around, the carvings seemed to watch us, history judging our current actions. Paono’s motes of light drifted on the air currents and cast wavering patterns across the walls.
“For the first few days after you left,” Paono said. “I was so busy staying ahead of Mieshk that I scarcely slept. I just ran and ran some more. I was so tired. But I got better at my life-channeling, and eventually I was able to sense Mieshk without focusing so much on her spark. It gave me a chance to rest, knowing that I’d wake if she got near.”
“Sparks,” I said. “That’s how the nightstrands on Araok Island refer to the lights of the living.”
His eyes widened. “There are nightstrands in the Kiriilt Islands?”
The expression on his face was so much like the young boy who’d been eager to hear the events of my day spent selling eggs that a rush of nostalgia flooded me. I wanted to grab his hands and run off to fountain square to throw rocks into the plumbing. Instead, I just nodded.
“So much has happened. I wish there was time to tell you everything. Later?”
The wash of sadness that fell over his face made me draw back. “Paono? Are you okay?”
He blinked and swallowed. “It’s just been so hard.”
I touched his knee. “I’m here now. You’re not by yourself anymore.”
He nodded. “Thanks, Lily Pad. But yeah, the sparks. I don’t really see anything when I think of another person. It’s more like I sense their light. It feels like a spark, so that’s what I started calling them.”
I nodded. “So once you got some sleep, what happened?”
“I started moving around more carefully. I stopped crossing gravel where I’d leave footprints and I avoided breaking through stands of brush. She’d been tracking me by sending her followers out in search of signs of my passage. Once I finally lost her trackers, I started searching for somewhere to hide. That’s how I found this place.”
I looked up at the arched ceiling and imagined stumbling into the chamber. It must’ve been such a relief.
Paono planted his hands on the floor and leaned back. “It’s far enough from Mieshk’s encampment that they weren’t likely to discover it while foraging. And if I had to, I could escape through the back entrance.” He gestured toward another of the doors that opened off the main chamber. “With a place to hide, I finally had a chance to start learning from the Vanished. Amongst the entire congregation, there’s only one other life-channeler remaining. In their whole history, only five were identified. Three died far away from Ioene and never found their way back to the aether here. Another joined the aurora when Mieshk’s pull became too much.”
He paused and took another drink from the waterskin he’d brought from the other chamber.
“Her name is Purviiv. I learned a lot from her. Unfortunately, her abilities aren’t as strong as mine. So a lot of what she told me came from their histories.”
I nodded.
Paono’s eyes had grown distant. Something in his expression reminded me of how I felt when I spoke into the aether. Immediately, I dropped my walls. But only silence greeted me. I set my barriers back in place.
“Are you speaking to the strands?” I asked.
His mouth twisted in consternation. “Trying. I attempt now and again. But it's no use.”
“What happened to them, Paono?”
His face hardened, abruptly guarded. After a moment, he mastered his reaction and looked to the side. “I’ll explain as best I can. But I want you to know the rest, first.”
I curled my toes but quickly stopped when Paono’s eyes dropped to my bare feet—I’d slipped out of my shoes. He knew I did that when frustrated, and I owed him my patience.
“Purviiv taught me to share my memories. It’s similar to the method the strands used to help Zyri join with you. But this will probably feel different. I haven’t tried the technique.” He blushed. “I suppose that’s obvious, since I’ve been here by myself. But may I?”
When I nodded, Paono reached forward and touched my hand. A look of intense concentration fell over his face. He screwed his eyes shut, and a strange sensation scratched against my mental barriers.
“Is that you?”
He nodded, but didn’t speak, only cocked his head. His brow furrowed.
Carefully, I opened a gap in my barrier. And abruptly, I stood outside on Ioene’s slopes. The dark sea spread endlessly before me, broken only by a tiny speck of glimmering color near the horizon—the sail on Zyri’s Promise, I realized. I gasped, but my lungs took in no air. Instead, my breathing followed Paono’s cadence. The mist entering my nose was the air he’d breathed weeks ago. My foot came down on the trail, heavier than my normal tread. After a few paces, my head swiveled as Paono turned to look at the volcano smoldering behind him.
“You’re showing me what happened after we sailed away,” I said. My voice was distant and muffled.
From the same faraway place, I heard his response. “Yes. But please be quiet. I’m trying to concentrate.”
The scene switched. Suddenly, I was scrambling through fresh pumice that clicked and clattered as my feet plunged ankle-deep into the airy stone. Behind me, breath rasped through men’s throats. My arm—no, not my arm—Paono’s arm ached. He’d fallen on it earlier, cracked his elbow against a sharp lava ridge.
Mieshk’s hunters were gaining. Paono opened his inner sense in an attempt to feel their sparks. But he’d worked so hard to secure a bond with Mieshk. Attempting to expand only stretched that thread to breaking. Instead, he looked over his shoulder and saw their eyes glinting in the dark. Above, cinders sprayed from the mountaintop.
“Sorry,” Paono whispered in that faraway voice. “It’s hard to focus on the right thing.”
Buried beneath Paono’s visions, my own thoughts and memories slid across my awareness. I wasn’t quite able to focus on them. Instead, I was awash in Paono’s experience. Immersed.
The scene vanished. Another flash, and Paono crouched on a flat pad of ground. Nearby, stone walls rose, the ruins of a building silhouetted against the dark sea. I recognized the spot, an ancient cloister. We’d ambushed Mieshk there and destroyed the figurine that had given her so much power so quickly.
But I didn’t recognize the smell in Paono’s nostrils. It was fetid. Cloying. He looked down at the decaying corpse at his feet. Regret filled his thoughts.
I was confused. In the fight at the cloister, no one had died. Mieshk must have punished one of the men, taken out her anger by having him killed. And poor Paono, even if it hadn’t been his hand at the blade, felt responsible.
Pinching his nose in a fold of his tunic, Paono crouched and pulled at the cloak that covered the body. The man had fallen facedown, and the cloak came away with little effort, releasing a fresh gust of stench. Paono gagged and fought the urge to retch.
The body’s head was turned to the side, gray flesh and dead eyes exposed to the wan light from the heavens. Paono grimaced and looked away.
“I washed the cloak with juices from the roots of the kivi plants,” he said in the faraway chamber where our bodies still sat. “Peldin gave me the suggestion. It got rid of the smell… Mostly.”
With a flash, Paono was inside this temple. I had the sense that days had passed. He was resting when the aether erupted in panic. The nightstrands were shrieking.
The aether will crack! someone yelled.
Paono clapped his hands over his head. The noise in his thoughts was deafening.
Peldin! He yelled into the aether. What’s happening!
Paono. Up. Purviiv will guide you. It’s the only way.
Paono staggered under the roar. His h
ead felt as if it would burst.
Quiet! Peldin yelled. Slowly, the din quieted.
We don’t know what Mieshk’s doing, Purviiv said in Paono’s thoughts. We only know she must be stopped.
Okay, but what do you want from me? Paono asked.
You have to try the dawnweaving. We can’t think of anything else.
Back in our real bodies, Paono whispered, “It’s an ability of a life-channeler. You join your spirit with other living beings to draw from their strength.”
“I understand the gist,” I said, forcing my words through the barrier that held my thoughts at bay.
In Paono’s memories, his fists pressed into his eye sockets. Here? he asked. I don’t even know how to do this dawnweaving.
Not here, she said. Right now you need to get to Ashkalan. I’ll explain when you arrive.
Paono hurt, way down deep in his bones. Despite the last few days of recovery, he was still exhausted. He’d run so much. For so long. Sighing, he stood and looked about the chamber. It had been his first real sanctuary since leaving Istanik. On the Evaeni and in the Nocturnai’s village, he’d been forced to share his space with Raav. He closed his eyes, ashamed at how he’d acted toward the trader. He’d been jealous. And now, Raav and I had sailed home together. Maybe we’d return. He hoped we’d return. But maybe he’d never see me again. He regretted the time he’d wasted in jealousy.
The air outside the temple was cool but not cold. Still, Paono shivered, hugging his arms to his chest. The hairs on the back of his neck stood.
He shook the dust and wrinkles from the dead man’s cloak—he’d been using it as a pillow—and laid it over his shoulders. But the extra layer didn’t cut the chill. Finally, Paono realized why he felt so cold. The island had become darker. A black fog veiled Ioene’s fire and the aurora above it.
Stumbling forward, he headed downhill. The temple perched around a quarter hour’s walk above the shore. It was hard to see the trail ahead. As he descended, he tripped over unseen rocks and crashed through brush that clawed at his already-tattered clothing.
I don’t know if I can make it, he said into the aether.
You must, Peldin said. The world needs you.
Paono picked up one of the rotted stones that he kept stubbing his toes against. He hurled it down the mountainside, yelling in frustration. He’d never really wanted to come here. He had been happy at home in Istanik, working humble jobs to pay the defense tax and put food on the table. Of everyone on the Nocturnai, he was probably the least suited to this task. So why should he have to defend Ioene from Mieshk Ulstat? Why must he go to Ashkalan and deal with this new problem. Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, he stomped toward the vast, rippling sea. In the new darkness that had fallen, the water mirrored the sky. Black and fathomless. The stars were gone, and no jellyfish lit the waters. All was black.
With a crack, his shin hit a boulder that had fallen onto the trail. Paono backed up a step and kicked the rotted thing, earning more pain in his toes. He yelled again through clenched teeth then stopped. Breathed. No, he hadn’t asked for this. But no one else was here to fight against Mieshk’s corruption. So it had to be him.
He ran his hands through his hair. He’d do whatever the strands wanted at Ashkalan, and then he’d get some more sleep. Sleep would make things better.
Once he’d staggered onto the beach, the going got easier. Shuffling forward, legs leaden, he trudged north along the shore toward Ashkalan.
Paono walked in a daze, his thoughts circling between memories of home and worries about me and Nan and even Katrikki. He tried to distract himself from the cramps in his legs by humming. But the croak that came from his throat was so pathetic, he quickly abandoned that idea.
As he neared the cliffs that protected Ashkalan, a stretch of coast more than five hundred paces long where sheer rock walls plunged directly into the sea, he heard a man’s shout followed by the clatter of rockfall. More shouts followed from somewhere higher up the mountain’s slopes. He froze, abruptly alert, and scanned the surrounding beach for some sort of weapon.
Get into the city, Paono. You must, Peldin said.
“Why?” Paono said aloud. “I’m done following your vague commands. Either you tell me what’s happening, or I’m going to lie down right here and get some sleep.”
Silence followed. Finally, Peldin spoke again. She’s using the strands for something we don’t understand. But we feel it tearing the aether apart. Something’s coming. You must stop her.
But I can’t fight her. You know that.
That’s why you need to attempt the dawnweaving, Purviiv said. We just have to hope it will work.
Paono’s memories flashed to the brief conversation he’d had with the Vanished life-channeler about this strange ability. He understood what he was supposed to do—sort of, anyway—but not the goal. Purviiv’s explanation had been vague. Almost evasive.
“Fantastic,” Paono whispered under his breath.
After that, Paono’s memory skipped forward. The sudden change dizzied me before I fell back into reliving his experience. He crept toward the narrow hallway at the entrance to Ashkalan. The darkness here was even deeper. Paono crawled through ink toward the sounds of men and women speaking in hushed voices.
Closer still, Paono found a sharp-edged rock and clutched it tightly in his grip. A pathetic weapon against Mieshk and her dozens of followers, but he didn’t want to enter that corridor empty-handed.
As he crept through the dark crevice that opened into Ashkalan, Paono’s heart thudded in his chest. Upon reaching the opening, he stared in confusion. On the terrace before him, half a dozen of Mieshk’s followers were filling in sketched lines with some sort of dark pigment, creating symbols. They used paintbrushes made from bundled twigs, and the paint smelled of mud and ash. Paono didn’t know how to read, but he recognized Kiriilti glyphs. These were not the same symbols.
As if that weren’t strange enough, at the far end of the terrace, Mieshk blazed in the night. Her skin glowed bright enough to vie with Ioene. Worse, flame shot from her hands. As she waved her arms in the air, the fire burned lines into the walls, creating the outlines of the symbols. When he looked at the runes, dread crept into his heart. I recognized that feeling.
“Insane wretch,” Paono muttered. He shrank back into the corridor as Mieshk turned. Her followers had finished inking in one of the runes. With the mad grin, she stalked along the terrace and stopped before the finished symbol. Holding her arms wide, she closed her eyes. Paono heard distant screams as she laid hands on the rune. With a jerk, he realized she was nightforging the symbol, imprisoning souls within its pigment.
Paono, Purviiv said. Listen closely. Reach for their sparks. It’s our only chance.
Swallowing, Paono shoved through his exhaustion and fear, surfacing to follow Purviiv’s instructions. He released his bond with Mieshk and instead stretched his awareness, searching for the life-lights of Mieshk’s followers.
As his inner sense unfolded, reaching farther and farther to hold the sparks working in Ashkalan as well as the life-lights of the guards back at Mieshk’s encampment, he sensed his own spark glowing brighter.
“Now what?” he whispered.
And in response to his words, Mieshk turned toward him. A bloodcurdling shriek escaped her mouth. “Kill him!”
Give yourself to the weave! Purviiv yelled in his thoughts. It’s your only hope.
As Paono fell into the grasp of the sparks, the vision disappeared. His memories evaporated from my mind.
The temple chamber snapped back into place, walls echoing my shocked gasp. Stunned, I planted a hand at my side. Tingles from my scars spread up my arm all the way to my heart. I blinked. Why had he stopped showing me?
“So that’s a dawnweaving,” he explained. “I found their life-lights through the aether and pulled our strength together.”
“Yeah, but what did you—” I cut myself off when I saw the expression of deep regret on his face. “Paono,
what’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath. “I know it was necessary, but whatever I did, I hurt them. When I drew our power together, Mieshk’s followers screamed. They sounded like I was flaying them alive.”
I blinked, confused. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would it hurt them?”
“Do you think I know?” he snapped, eyes throwing sparks.
I swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.” A flicker of an idea had started to form. When I expanded my spirit beyond my physical boundaries during a duskweaving, my scars burned. Maybe, when he pulled energy from other living people, a similar thing happened.
Paono’s anger vanished as quickly as it had come. “I know you are, Lilik. It’s just hard to talk about.”
“Listen, I have a similar ability. Duskweaving. It uses the spirits of the dead. You won't frighten me by showing me what happened.”
He shook his head. “Bad enough that I remember hurting them. Worse if I have to let you see it too. After Ashkalan, I was so ashamed. I shut my walls. Tell Heiklet I'm sorry I left her alone like that.”
I leaned forward to put my face into his line of sight. “Paono, it’s okay. Clearly, the alternative was worse. Whatever Mieshk was doing to Ashkalan… I went there. You can still feel it.”
He shrugged, gaze unfocused. “Maybe. But here’s the real problem. When I took strength from the sparks, I enjoyed it. Not hurting them, but the way their energy flowed to me. Like I’d stolen something from them and held it within myself. And it felt so good.”
Tyrak? Do you know anything about this?
Nothing. I’m sorry, Lilik.
Paono’s eyes met mine. “It makes me no better than Mieshk. You see?”
I shook my head. Paono could never be like Mieshk. In fact, he was as far from her as anyone could be. But that was the problem. He was so hard on himself. Nothing I could say would convince him to ease up.
“So what did your dawnweaving accomplish?” I asked, hoping to distract him by moving past the subject.
Paono swallowed. “At first, Mieshk froze. Her followers too. They were like statues. I thought that would be enough. I just wanted them to stop what they were doing. But I couldn’t freeze her mind. She started to pull the nightstrands away from me. Just like they did with you, they’d been using me for sanctuary from her. And by coming to Ashkalan, I’d brought the souls to her.”
Shattering of the Nocturnai Box Set Page 78
