Duskwoven Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  People

  Places

  Acknowledgements

  Duskwoven

  Book Three

  Shattering of the Nocturnai

  Carrie Summers

  Chapter One

  TOSSED BY THE violent rocking of the hull, the lantern threw wild shadows over the damp wall of my cell. It was night; though the Ulstat schooner was seaworthy, gaps between the upper planks of the wall allowed moonlight past. Frothing waves sprayed seawater through the same cracks. In the first few hours of our journey, I’d tried to scoot away to stay dry. It had done no good. My leg iron kept me shackled too close to the wall to escape the splashing. Trying only caused the cuff to chafe.

  A sudden, savage wave sent me lurching across the cabin. My chain snapped tight, the cuff trenching into the skin of my ankle, cutting flesh and bruising bone. The groan of the hull covered my shriek as I tried desperately to worm back toward the wall before the next wave smacked us. Huddled in a ball, my hand around the iron cuff as if I could keep it from hurting me again, I whimpered and waited, sprayed every few seconds by seawater.

  Time stretched out, each crash of a wave and moan of the hull beating against my strength. When the cruel rocking finally quieted, I held my breath, afraid it would just start back up. Moments later, my door flew open, slamming against the wall.

  A guardsman for House Ulstat stood in the entry, face locked in a permanent snarl. A scar slashed across his cheek, creating a line from his lip to the outer corner of his eye where his beard didn’t grow. The scar itself was black, probably due to coal dust and a poor job cleaning out the original wound.

  “Ilaraok harbor?” I asked, forcing strength into my words. Of the twenty or so Kiriilt Islands, Araok housed the second largest capital city, Ilaraok. But unlike my home city, Istanik, which hosted more than two dozen trader Houses, only House Ulstat called Ilaraok home. By rumor, it was a stark and ugly place. Smelly, too.

  The man grunted. Did that mean yes? No?

  “You’re going to unchain me at least, right?” As I held up my foot, I noticed the line of blood dripping down my ankle. I wished I were on Ioene where the power of the aurora would heal the gash overnight. As it was, I’d have to convince Trader Ulstat that I’d be no use to him with gangrene rotting my foot off. He must need me. Otherwise, why go to the trouble of keeping me alive?

  The guard didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled a heavy keychain from his pocket and fitted one of the keys into the lock at the wall. After unfastening my chain from the ship, he draped it over his shoulder and started out the door, clearly expecting me to follow. I didn’t hesitate; there'd come a time to fight, but it wasn’t now, not with my family and Raav locked in the hold with me.

  According to what Olev Ulstat had said during our capture, Mistress Nyralit was aboard, too. Captain Altak had brought news of her abduction more than ten days ago—she’d been taken during a mission to recruit help from the smaller of the Kiriilt Islands. Ten days was a long time—she might be too hurt or weak to get off the ship quickly. I needed a better understanding of the situation before I made a move.

  I followed the guard into the ship’s central aisle, grimacing when he gave an extra tug that ground the iron cuff into my wound. Another Ulstat guardsman shouldered out of the adjacent cabin with Raav in tow. Unlike my single shackle, they’d put Raav’s wrists in irons as well as cuffing one of his ankles. In the two days since we’d sailed away from Stanik Island, casting off from the hidden anchorage in the dark of night, Raav’s bruises had darkened. His upper lip was swollen, and a livid scrape showed through the knee of his torn trousers.

  I wanted to run to him but remained where I was, standing obediently behind my guard. Raav’s eyes met mine, sending rays of warmth through me. I stared back, trying without speaking to say how sorry I was about his family. About all this. Frask had died at Raav’s hand, whether Raav had intended it or not. Regardless of his brother’s cruelty, Raav had to be drowning in guilt over that. He’d lost his mother in the battle for Istanik, too. But he stood with his shoulders straight, defiant in the face of the Ulstat guards.

  “Hurry up about it,” the guard who led me called. “Trader Ulstat wants us up and out in minutes. Ship needs to get round the north point.”

  Grumbles followed the words, emanating from a pair of cabins between us and the forward ladder. After a moment, a door swung open, and a guard stepped out leading my family on a single chain. Da’s hands were cuffed like Raav’s, but they’d left Jaret’s free. Finally, a last guard appeared, pulling Nyralit’s chain. When the former strandmistress looked over her shoulder and caught my eye, she cried in dismay.

  “We’re okay,” I called. “We’ll be okay.” I wanted to say more, but if I started talking about escape, the guards might decide to do a better job locking me up.

  My reassurance didn’t seem to help Nyralit. Already bedraggled, her flowing silks tattered and her hair a tangled mess, she bowed her head in defeat. I clenched my fists behind my back. I’d need to speak with her in private. Soon. I could really use her help in getting out of this. Having her feeling beaten would do no good.

  Now that we’d all been fetched from our cells, my guard jerked my chain. I squelched a cry of pain, but only barely. Hoping to avoid another jerk, I followed so close on the man’s heels that he cast an annoyed look over his shoulder.

  After two days in the hold, my knees shook when we were dragged up the ladder. Once on deck, I could see the severe lines of Araok Island blotting the stars ahead. Above, a handful of clouds scudded across a gibbous moon. But otherwise, stars glittered above. Clearly, no imminent storm threatened. Which meant that the huge waves were either due to distant weather or worse, they were signs that Mieshk’s power was growing faster than I’d feared.

  Our ship had darted into a bay, bringing the reprieve from the large waves on the open strait. But unlike the harbor near Ilaraok, the island’s main city, the shore wrapping the bay here was unpopulated.

  So why had we stopped?

  Moments later, a handful of crew dashed across the decks, followed by the stark figure of Olev Ulstat. The trader glared at our huddled group, reserving a particularly long glance for me. I curled my lip at him. As if to punish me, he reached for his belt and pulled out my dagger.

  Immediately, I reached for Tyrak with my inner sense.

  Tyrak?

  Lilik! Thank the tides! Are you okay? I can barely hear you.

  When Trader Ulstat ran a finger across the blade, I could feel Tyrak’s revulsion. I felt violated, too, as if it were me that Olev Ulstat touched without permission.

  I’ll get you back. I promise. I shoved my thoughts hard in Tyrak’s direction, as much in frustration at seeing him held by the Ulstat prime as to make sure the idea reached him.

  I have no doubt in that, Tyrak responded.
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  “Come on, people!” Trader Ulstat called to his crew. “If we’re not in the water immediately, you’ll be left aboard with the . . . volunteers.”

  Volunteers? I caught Raav’s eye, and he shrugged.

  At a nod from Trader Ulstat, my captor yanked my chain, sending a fresh shiver of pain up my leg from the cuff. How were Da and Raav’s wrists faring? Better than my ankle, I hoped. As the guards dragged us toward the aft deck of the ship, I spotted crewmen at work swinging the ship’s dinghy out over the water. As soon as we neared, Trader Ulstat instructed his men to open a section of the rail so we could climb in.

  I went first, sending the boat into a wild swing when I overbalanced. A jerk on my chain combined with a dive toward a bench kept me from flying over the other side.

  “Perhaps the rest of your companions can be more cautious when boarding,” Trader Ulstat commented.

  I glared at him.

  Once our party of captives and guards were seated in the vessel, Trader Ulstat climbed aboard. He nodded at the nearest crewman who jumped to the winch and began lowering us to the surface of the water.

  “As soon as we’re ashore, those who didn’t volunteer may swim,” the trader announced. “The others—you know your job. Wait until she draws alongside. It has to be close.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Trader Ulstat sneered. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  When my guard released my chain to take up the oars, I considered jumping overboard and swimming for freedom. But with a length of heavy metal links locked to my ankle, I wouldn’t make it far. So I slouched in my seat and attempted to look bored.

  In truth, I was starving, and the inside of my mouth felt like a clamshell left cracked open under the hot sun. My tongue was a shriveled piece of meat left to dry up and wither. Since departing Stanik Island, Olev Ulstat hadn’t bothered to give us food, and we’d had just one drink.

  I wouldn’t let him see that it had weakened me though.

  When the bottom of the boat rasped against the sand of the beach, Trader Ulstat jumped from the bow and grabbed a line knotted through an eyebolt. He held the vessel in place while the guards disembarked and then half-lifted, half-dragged us from the boat. As we waded ashore, the salty water stung the gash on my ankle. Trader Ulstat scanned the beach until he spotted the silvery wood of a long-dead tree, fallen from the sparse pine forest behind, or maybe carried on storm seas in some distant past.

  Trader Ulstat took a seat on the trunk and gestured at the guards. After dragging us to the log, one of the men pulled more locks from a heavy canvas sack and fastened the ends of our chains together. Next, he looped a free end around one of the standing trees and locked it. I suspected that by working together, we could uproot the tree—Araok’s soil was thin and rocky, the trees weak. But with four guards hovering, that wouldn’t do much good.

  “Sit,” said Trader Ulstat. “We have a while to wait.”

  I knew he wanted us to ask about his plans again. Instead, I stepped over a loop of chain and took a seat next to Nyralit. She scooted close, both taking comfort and providing warmth. As we waited, around ten men from the ship swam to shore and waded onto the sand. In the bay, the schooner’s remaining crew raised the sail.

  “The beach here reminds me a little of Ioene,” Nyralit commented. “Especially with the darkness.”

  Jaret scooted closer, eager for a tale. During my time back in Istanik, I'd had few chances to tell him about the better parts of the Nocturnai—I’d been too focused on other things.

  “Before Mieshk, at least,” she added. “Who knows what the island is like now.”

  At that, Raav nodded. Wrists still locked in the cuffs, he’d chosen to remain standing in defiance of Trader Ulstat’s command to sit.

  “She’s as mad as the monster-heir,” he muttered, no doubt trying to provoke Trader Ulstat into acting rashly. From this point on, we needed to be constantly looking for advantages.

  If Raav’s comment riled the prime of House Ulstat, the man didn’t show it. Eyes on the bay, he tugged up the legs of his trousers and took a seat at the end of the log.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “Whatever she’s done is temporary. As soon as we eradicate her, we’ll heal the island. Make it like it was during Vanished times.”

  Finally, Trader Ulstat’s upper lip twitched. I smirked.

  Like a ghost, the schooner tacked and headed from the bay. Once or twice, the sound of creaking rigging drifted over our beach. More often, any noise from the outer bay was lost in the nearby lapping of wavelets against the sand, and from behind, the rustle of small animals in the dry forest undergrowth. Gathered in a small group, the guards kept watch on both the beach and the forest behind us. Though the trees were sparse, the woods were one of the few places on Araok Island where someone could hide; most of the landscape was dark stone and bare soil, pocked with mine openings and quarries.

  As the schooner moved into the main strait, the sails snapped with the increased wind and rolling swell. Upon the deck, someone lit a torch and stood at the bow.

  “Not long now,” Trader Ulstat said. “I think we were quick enough in our little side trip.”

  “You okay, Lilik?” Da asked. It was the first time he’d spoken since we waded ashore. I wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel like he’d failed to protect me? Ridiculous, of course, since it was my fault he’d been captured in the first place. But that wouldn’t stop him from trying to take responsibility.

  “I’ll be better once we see House Ulstat obliterated. Shouldn’t be long.”

  Da sighed in response, out of words for me.

  “This isn’t your fault, Da,” I said. “I just wish I’d done a better job keeping you and Jaret away from everything.”

  “You did what you could,” he responded. “It was your idea for Jaret and me to hide while you fought with the resistance. I should have taken your warnings more seriously. Been more careful.”

  “There,” Trader Ulstat said, standing. He pointed toward the strait. In the wan moonlight, the sails of the schooner were pale ghosts against the dark sea. I wasn’t sure what the trader was indicating until Nyralit gasped.

  “I don’t see,” Jaret said.

  “There.” Nyralit pointed.

  Out on the dark strait, the shimmering colors on the mainsail of Zyri’s Promise danced over the waves. I couldn't make out the details of the image sketched on the glowing, nightwoven cloth; she was too far away. But there was no doubt about the ship’s identity. Sleek as a hunting shark, she sped forward and darted back and forth, light from her sail glinting off the water.

  Captain Altak was gaining on the Ulstat schooner, matching her tack for tack while managing a careful distance between the vessels. In the darkness, he wouldn’t want to misjudge.

  “We spotted him near midnight,” Trader Ulstat said. “We didn’t have much time, but fortunately I have intimate knowledge of the Araokan coastline. Unlike your captain.”

  I understood now. Fearing we’d be rescued, the trader had slipped into the bay and unloaded us. Not a bad plan. But he had to realize that Captain Altak would catch the schooner soon enough. Especially after Trader Ulstat had ordered most of the crew off the ship, the remaining sailors would have no chance in actual combat. Whether Captain Altak had readied his harpoons or whether he planned to use grapples and board the other vessel, the schooner was doomed. No doubt the captain would take a prisoner and get the story of our whereabouts from them.

  Trader Ulstat was watching me, a keen look in his eyes.

  “Don’t think I haven’t considered the odds,” he commented. “This isn’t about a shipboard battle.”

  At the next tack, torches flared to life on the decks of Zyri’s Promise. Outlined by fire, the ship accelerated, doubling her speed in a matter of moments. Built by the Vanished and pulled by a nightwoven sail, the ship could sail at ten times the speed, maybe more, of the schooner. Most likely, Captain Altak had left port a full day after we sai
led from Stanik Island. It hadn’t been hard to guess our destination.

  Barreling across the strait, Zyri’s Promise arrowed for the schooner only to whip around at the last moment, drawing broadsides to her and matching her pace. Our friends planned to board, probably having decided it would be safer than harpooning a ship that had prisoners aboard.

  After a couple minutes, the ships were locked together, grapples binding them rail to rail. I watched, hand over my mouth as they sailed on. Moments later, I gasped when dark shapes leaped from the rail of the schooner, opposite Zyri’s Promise and probably invisible to her crew.

  Were they fleeing? No. A cold weight settled into my stomach as I realized that this must’ve been planned.

  Maintaining the tack, the ships passed out of sight, their silhouettes hidden behind a jut of land forming one arm of the bay. I waited, breath held, for the next tack. Watched, unblinking, for the glimmering sail of Zyri’s Promise to emerge once again in plain view at the center of the strait.

  Instead, a flash of light stabbed the back of my eyes. I cried out as flame leaped for the heavens, the initial fireball towering three times the height of a ship. The sound of exploding black powder pummeled us a few heartbeats later, knocking the breath from my body, leaving my ears ringing.

  And finally, the heat washed us as the conflagration lowered to a steady blaze, a cloud of smoke with a red underbelly billowing up to block the starlight.

  “Well,” said Trader Ulstat, “at least you know they tried to rescue you.”

  Chapter Two

  I WATCHED, STRICKEN as the last glow of burning wood faded from the strait. My fingertips were raw from clawing at the silvered log beneath me. It didn’t seem real. How could this happen? After everything we’d been through, how could someone like Trader Ulstat bring down Zyri’s Promise?

  Beside me, Nyralit was silent. Maybe she couldn’t speak, for fear of crying in front of our captor.

  I wrapped my arm around her. “I missed you. I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry.”