Nightforged (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 1) Page 8

  He shifted so we were facing one another. “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “I—I’m in trouble. I need help. But also, I don’t want it to affect you.”

  He flicked my knee. “Didn’t we agree to guard each other’s backs? What’s going on?”

  “It’s bigger than a prank or bullying. I can’t call the strands. I lied.”

  He blinked a couple times. “I don’t understand.”

  “Moanet Yiltak gave me the information I needed to pass the test.”

  He stared at me, silent.

  “And she gave me a figurine I could use in place of talent. Only I lost it somehow. Or someone stole it.”

  “You came here knowing you couldn’t—that you don't have the talent? Lilik, why didn’t you tell me? They’ll kill you.”

  He scooted away from me, horror on his face.

  I kept on like an oblivious cow. “You have to pretend you don’t know, Paono. If they find out, you’re in danger, too. I didn’t want to tell you, but I couldn’t stand having this lie between us anymore and—”

  “All that time on the voyage, I felt guilty for hiding my feelings about the Nocturnai, while you . . .” Paono’s mouth moved as if he held the unformed words on his tongue but couldn’t finish their shaping. Red blotches darkened his cheeks.

  He backed out from under the boulder into the hail of stone, flinching as each small rock pelted his skin. His eyes were wide hollows in the volcano’s glow.

  “Wait! I kept it secret because I didn’t want to put you in danger. Everything happened so fast. After I passed the trial to spite them, I wanted to decline but—”

  “Just stay away from me, Lilik. Find your figurine or we’re dead.”

  Paono ran off into the fog of ash and falling rock.

  I was too shocked to move. Of all the things I’d expected—mild anger, a hurt look in his eyes—I never thought Paono would abandon me. We were inseparable. Friends forever.

  “Wait . . . can’t we just talk?” I said the words to myself. Paono was long gone. I clasped the sea opal pendant, squeezing hard.

  Chapter Fourteen

  AS I RACED to my hut, the sky threw stones at me. Acrid steam seared my eyes and nose. The door flew open and smacked the wall. I slammed it behind me, muting the furor of the eruption before throwing myself on my bunk, face shoved into my pillow.

  I didn’t even want to think anymore.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, caught between tears and terror, but not long after the rattle of stones on the roof quieted, hollow footsteps shook my porch. The visitor’s fist thudded.

  “Captain’s orders,” the crewman said when I cracked the door. “Everyone is to stay inside except when called for meals. If the eruption worsens, we’ll take shelter in the forges.”

  After he left, I jammed the chair back under the doorknob. And paced.

  I couldn’t get Paono out of my head. We’d often argued through the years, short quarrels about stupid little things. But he’d never been mad enough to leave me. I’d expected to have a chance to explain. I’d been sure he’d understand once he listened to the whole story. Had I misjudged my friend’s heart? What if he decided to protect himself by telling Captain Altak about my lies?

  Once again, I pawed through my trunk in search of the figurine. The fur overcoat spilled across my palms, silky on the outside, coarse leather within. My deception was like that, an outer smoothness disguising the brutal interior. Eyes burning, I balled the coat and threw it on the floor, accidentally knocking over a nearby chair. I kicked, driving my toes into to side of the chest.

  Exhausted by the emotions, I staggered to the bunk and flopped down, dazed. When the rapping came at my door, I started, cracking my knee against the wall.

  “Lilik. Open up.” Raav’s smooth voice, though muffled, was unmistakable.

  I limped to the door, rubbing my face to clear the haze.

  “You’re supposed to stay inside,” I said as I opened it.

  His eyes widened in feigned panic. “Then let me in, quick!”

  He winked. Sighing, I stepped aside. Raav raised his eyebrows at the half-unpacked state of my trunk, the piles of clothing I’d laid out for my escape blending with the mess.

  “Bored?” he asked.

  “I guess.”

  “Yeah, me too. So I came here.”

  A smile snuck onto my face. Raav had a knack for making the worst circumstances enjoyable.

  The hut had few furnishings. Aside from my narrow bunk, there was the overturned chair, a three-legged stool, and a pedestal table holding the lantern and water pitcher. Raav glanced around, righted the chair for me, and lowered himself to the stool. Upon the ridiculously undersized perch, his long legs folded like a grasshopper's.

  “So,” he said, “it’s all right if I distract you from repacking your trunk? I’m sure it’s invigorating.”

  I shrugged. “Almost makes me wish I’d brought supplies to make a new pair of sandals, and I used to hate that.”

  “Have you toured the village? Haven’t been to the weavers’ hall or the glassblower's building?”

  “I went with Paono to scout for calling spots this morning.”

  His eyebrows raised. “Did you bring the Effigy? If anything can bring the strands, it’s the carving.”

  His words gave me a sudden thought. What if the strands weren’t heeding the callers' summonings because the figurine was attracting them to the sea bottom somewhere out in the shoals? Moanet had explained that the carving only worked when placed inside a caller’s reliquary, but I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she'd lied.

  “Well?” Raav stared at me expectantly.

  “I didn’t try to call. Just looked around.” I hoped the flickering orange light of my lantern hid my blush. Pretending I still had the carving was as hard as lying about my talent.

  “Too bad. Things will get dangerous for the nightcallers unless someone solves the problem. I heard that Mistress Nyralit hasn’t slept since the moon rise before last.”

  “Dangerous? Already?”

  He shrugged. “The crew and oarsmen are hard men.”

  “Oh.” I nodded, remembering the scowl the oarsman had given me this morning.

  “But anyway, I wasn’t asking whether you’d seen the village just to make conversation.”

  “Okay . . .?”

  “So, you want to go?” Raav’s mouth turned up at the corner.

  “You mean now?”

  “Sure, why not?” he said. “We could be good voyagers and stay inside like the captain asked, but to be honest, I feel safer when I can see what’s about to fall out of the sky.”

  I shoved aside my makeshift curtain and stared at the mountain's red glow. Raav had a point.

  Anyway, I was in plenty of trouble already. The extra punishment for disobeying the captain’s orders seemed laughable.

  “Let’s go.”

  Raav smiled and held the door for me.

  Unsurprisingly, we weren’t the only ones interested in the spectacle. Expedition members stood on at least a third of the huts’ porches, gaping at the glimmering sheets of aurora hanging behind the mountain’s flaming cone.

  Raav grabbed my hand. I jerked in surprise but covered it by pretending to be startled by the volcano’s latest spray.

  My hand was small in his, enveloped by his firm grasp. Calluses roughed his palm. Raav didn’t avoid work—even if he hadn’t told me as much, it was obvious in the wide set of his shoulders. But feeling the results of his labor made him seem more real. Not just a trader. A person.

  Ahead, the paths to the disused weaving hall and the forges split. Raav steered us toward the forges, keeping to the relative darkness on the edge of the walkway opposite the torches.

  “I feel like a child sneaking out to the evening market,” I said.

  He squeezed my hand and released it. When he spoke, his voice held a tight edge. “I would have needed to get past the guards my brother hired.”

  His brother . .
. that was interesting. I’d expect his mother or father to be the authority, but then I didn’t know much about the trader Houses outside of Yiltak and Ulstat.

  As I followed the path, I stared up at Ioene. When Raav stopped abruptly, I ran into him. A small laugh escaped my throat.

  “Shh,” he said, pointing behind me.

  Following us, a clot of people led by Mieshk Ulstat climbed the path. Because the path curved and we’d been in shadow, they hadn’t seen us yet. But the trail dead-ended at the forges. Unless Mieshk turned around, we were bound to run into her.

  “She’s been telling people she could solve the nightstrand problem if Mistress Nyralit and Captain Altak would give her authority,” Raav whispered.

  I nodded, unsurprised— Mieshk would say anything to appear important. Like tattling to the leadership about Raav and I disobeying the orders. She’d have a viable excuse to explain her own presence outside, of course, probably backed up by her crowd of followers.

  “We’re better off heading back,” I said. “Make it look like we had an errand at the forges.”

  “Yeah. I’d rather go somewhere not polluted by Mieshk, anyway.”

  He set off back down the hill with long strides. I tracked Mieshk’s approach, expecting verbal attacks once we were in range. Instead, she stopped and stared with eyes wide, glinting in the torchlight. She raised a hand toward me.

  “Don’t move.” Mieshk’s low voice quavered.

  “What?” I asked. A glance at Raav told me he was just as puzzled.

  “Seems we know where the strands have gone.” Mieshk backed away. She stumbled when her heel hit a rock.

  Laiska took her caller’s elbow. “What is it?”

  “The strands. They’re swarming her. It’s like she’s covered in black eels.”

  What was she talking about? Absently, I ran my hands over my legs as if I could brush them off.

  “That many strands in one spot—Ioene won’t tolerate it. We’ll be smashed. I need to get the strandmistress.”

  Mieshk and her followers plowed forward, and Raav pulled me off the path before they knocked me over. With a quick backward glance, Mieshk turned onto the village’s main path and yelled for Mistress Nyralit.

  I stood, stunned. Swarmed by nightstrands? Really? I held out my hand, examined it back and front. Wouldn’t I feel something?

  Raav looked me up and down. “You need to get out of here, Lilik.”

  “Why? She probably made it up to explain their failure. Or to put the attention elsewhere.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know—she looked scared. What if it’s true?”

  “Then I should let the other callers get them off me.”

  “You can’t. They’ll know you can’t see them.”

  “But if the eruptions are my fault—”

  “That’s just a superstition. We’ve been here a week, and the volcano hasn’t buried us yet.”

  I shook my head in protest. I couldn’t just run away. If the legend was more than a superstition, I’d be endangering the whole Nocturnai.

  “What then?”

  I remembered what Paono said about Heiklet. “I’ll go to the beach. Near the dock. Send Heiklet—she can tell me if it’s true.”

  Raav nodded. “Good idea. Go.”

  Ducking off the path, I teetered down the rubbled hillside. A stone rolled under my footstep, sending me crashing into a boulder. Cursing, I pushed off and stumbled down the slope.

  Once on the beach, I limped through crushed pumice, feet plunging deep. Beyond the pier where the Evaeni was tied, the moon's rising edge shone off the water. Phosphorescent jellyfish drifted in the harbor’s lazy currents, green glow beneath the water. Crouching behind a boulder in the tidal zone, I waited, heart thudding, rolling my ankle to clear the stiffness.

  “Down there!” someone shouted from the village.

  I spun on the balls of my feet, remaining crouched even though I’d been spotted.

  The moon pulled free from the sea’s grasp, casting the village and shore in ghostly light. At the corner of the closest hut, I spotted Mistress Nyralit's flowing silks. A handful of people stood near her.

  “Lilik, even I can see them,” the mistress shouted. She’d been a caller once, long ago. A hint of talent must have remained despite her age.

  “I—”

  Ioene roared. The earth shuddered and shook. Above, people stumbled, latching on to each other for balance. I toppled, landing with a spine-jarring thump on my rear. High above us, the volcano erupted in a fountain of lava, ash, and stone so high I couldn’t see the top.

  Fire fell from the heavens. Shrieks threaded through the growl of the explosion. Clapping my hands over my ears, I scrabbled backward toward the water line. A stone the size of a summer melon pounded the pumice near my foot.

  The sky was ablaze, and a torrent of lava spilled over the crater’s rim. The river tumbled down the hill, a new channel, bound straight for the village.

  From behind, a concussion knocked the air from my lungs. My ears rang. A wave of heat enveloped me as firelight reddened the shore.

  Shaking my head, I turned toward the explosion. A scream ripped free from my throat. Planks and beams on the pier were burning, but the inferno at the end of the dock brought me to my knees.

  The Evaeni.

  Ioene had hurled an immense boulder straight through the ship’s hull. Fires burned the length of her deserted deck, and already she listed, straining at the lines that bound her to the pier. Through the hole in her side, I glimpsed a fire-filled interior cabin. A bunk and a mirror. Cabinet doors hanging open with flame licking at the wood. Steam poured from the hole when the seawater streamed in, dousing, snuffing.

  I sprinted for the pier. Stupid. Futile. What could I do? But I ran anyway and splashed the burning wood with seawater from my cupped hands. Our only way home was sinking.

  Agonized yells rushed from above. A line of voyagers gathered, horror-struck. Without the Evaeni, we were marooned. If hunger didn’t kill us, the storm season would. Everyone on the expedition would die. A man fell to his knees. Hands covered mouths.

  Mieshk stepped forward, a specter lined in flame. The trader raised an arm and pointed at me.

  One by one, the voyagers turned their gazes from the sinking ship to me. I knew their thoughts—an ignorant, gutter commoner, I’d collected too many strands and provoked Ioene, condemning us all.

  I swallowed and stepped back from the pier.

  “Run!” A boy’s voice—Paono? Raav?—cut above the roar and crackle of fire, the crash of stones demolishing stands of night foliage, the splash-hiss of molten rock falling into the ocean.

  “Now!”

  I ran. There was nothing left for me to do.

  Chapter Fifteen

  STOMACH GROWLING, I curled in a hollow between boulders. Loud cracks of cooling lava peppered the air, joined by the hissing when a new tongue of molten rock oozed from the black crust and licked the sea. The air smelled of burned wood and sulfur and the stinging acridity of the volcanic ash.

  I’d been alone since the moon set and rose again. At one point I’d dozed. In my dreams, sunshine honeyed the terraced fields of inland Stanik while my father’s egg cart creaked over a narrow path. We laughed when the mule huffed and turned back his ears at the rocky sections. Paono was there, too, but in the dream he was younger. The boy from my memories.

  I’d woken shivering and hadn’t slept since.

  Though I’d fled, I hadn’t gone far. I had no supplies, no protection from the elements. Lurking in thickets of night foliage and jumbled boulders, I kept watch on the beach. Over the last few hours, crewmen had planted torches in a semi-circle. Now, a crowd gathered. Yearning for the firelight, I crept closer, trusting in the darkness to hide me.

  Captain Altak stood at the top of the beach where crushed stone gave way to jagged rubble and clinging vines. He turned to survey the gathered crowd, a ragged group with eyes too wide. Tears traced shining lines down
scattered faces.

  “Voyagers,” the captain called out, “I see you. I see you alive and safe.”

  A few nods answered his words. Most of the gathered crowd waited without reacting, expectant.

  “Mistress Nyralit,” he said, “are we accounted for?”

  The strandmistress stepped forward and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “Two oarsmen are missing along with a deckhand. They were searching for stones to rebuild a storehouse when the lava came through town. We hope they fled north along the coast and are separated from us by the flow. With good fortune, they’ll return when it’s safe.”

  My nails bit into the flesh of my palms. That didn’t seem likely.

  Mistress Nyralit paused as if thinking the same thing. It had been hours, nearly a day as reckoned on Stanik, since the ribbon of molten rock burned through the village. Unless the men were injured or worse, they would have swum around the seaward edge of the flow.

  She straightened her silks. “First mate Tkira has suffered burns to her arms. Heiklet Srukolk’s sentinel, Islilla, sustained a fracture of her lower arm. Otherwise, we’ve seen only minor burns and bruises. The injured are resting in cots we recovered from huts on the village perimeter.” She paused. “And as you know, the caller, Lilik, fled.”

  “She caused this!” Mieshk Ulstat’s words were shrill.

  Captain Altak raised his palms to the group, asking for calm. “Right now we must focus on our immediate needs. Blame can come later.”

  Mieshk glared at him, crossing her long, thin arms over her chest.

  “As for supplies, we’ll wait until the flow cools before we enter the remaining huts to take inventory. In the meantime, I’ll nominate men to dive the Evaeni for salvage. You’ll work in pairs and avoid entering any areas of the ship that appear unstable. I won’t lose any mo—” He stopped himself from acknowledging that the missing oarsmen and deckhand were gone. “I won’t lose anyone over plugs of iron we won’t be forging on this expedition. We’re looking for blankets and tools, any food barrels that remain sealed. Swimmers will remain on the surface with torches—this won’t light the wreck as well as we’d like, but the water is shallow, and it may help.”