Chapter 34
34
B ACK IN D AAL’S home, Nyx sat at the family’s stone table. A blanket draped her shoulders, but it failed to truly warm her.
Jace crouched across from her, cradling a hot mug of fish stew in his hands. The fare had been meant for a feast following the festival. But no one was celebrating. Even Daal’s parents hovered by a small oven with Henna, clearly relieved but far from joyous.
Mournful bells rang a slow dirge that echoed across Iskar.
A short while ago, back on the plaza, Graylin had collected their group and led them here. The village needed time to gather their dead, to grieve for their loss. He didn’t want them in the way, nor did he want that sorrow to have a target. Even the Reef Farer had waved them off, but not before clasping Graylin on the shoulder, silently expressing his thanks.
Still, they all knew such gratefulness could quickly sour.
The next days would be fragile for all.
As testament to the tension and edginess, they all jumped when the drape over the doorway burst open. Jace spilled stew onto his lap and leaped up with a gasp.
But there was no cause for alarm.
Daal shoved inside, breathless and tired. “Neffa is fine,” he announced. “She’s scared, but I calmed her. A shoalman is gathering the other orksos and moving them to deeper waters, getting them clear of the wreckage. The docks and shoreline are a treacherous ruin of broken boats and cracked piers.”
“What about Shiya and Fenn?” Jace asked.
Daal nodded. He had left with those two for the docks. “I found them a boat that was still hale enough to reach your big ship.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if they can roust enough others to rescue your friends.”
Nyx swallowed, worried. Shiya had related her story. Her sailraft had crashed atop a small island. With no way off, the bronze woman had crossed the seabed on foot, drawn by the flames of Iskar. As she neared the shore, she had sensed the bridling threat and rushed to their aid.
But now Rhaif and the others need her.
Daal crossed and hugged his mother and nodded to his father. Floraan passed him a bowl of the stew. He joined them at the table, but before he could settle, a spate of shouts and panicked cries erupted in the distance.
Nyx threw off her blanket and stood.
Are we being attacked again?
Daal set his bowl down and rushed to the door. Nyx followed, while Jace grabbed his ax from beside the table. Meryk came, too, but Floraan stayed with her daughter.
Daal pulled aside the drape, holding an arm up to keep everyone back. The flow of cries and screams drew closer. A pair of villagers fled past the doorway.
“Hen wrag?” Daal called to them.
His inquiry was ignored as the two vanished out of sight.
Daal glanced with confusion at Nyx and the others—then a familiar rumbling growl reached them, underlaid by a threatening chitter.
Relieved, Nyx pushed Daal’s arm aside and slipped past him. “That’s Kalder.”
No wonder the villagers are panicked.
Down a curve of the street, Graylin appeared, flanked by the massive vargr and trailed by the mountainous figure of Quartermaster Vikas and the robed shape of Alchymist Krysh. The knight had gone to check on the others, those who had been left hidden in a nest of boulders outside the village. As they approached, Kalder’s hackles shivered down his back. His tall ears swiveled in all directions, alert for danger. The others looked equally wary and dour.
But at least they had survived.
Graylin spotted Nyx at the door and waved her back. Once the way was clear, he hurried his group inside. Kalder, too, but the vargr remained at the threshold, padding in a nervous circle near the door.
Daal’s parents retreated farther back, guarding over Henna.
The girl assured them, “Gree Kalder. Nee fayr.”
Nyx noted one member of the group remained missing. Bashaliia. Still, she understood why Graylin had left the Myr bat behind. After the attack by the raash’ke, it would be a horrible time to introduce Bashaliia, especially considering the villagers’ reaction to Kalder stalking through their streets.
Nyx turned to Graylin. “How is Bashaliia faring? Is he all right being left behind?”
Graylin winced, his expression pained. He glanced at Krysh. The alchymist stared down to his toes. Even Quartermaster Vikas would not meet her eye.
Nyx’s heart clenched, sensing something was wrong. She took a step forward. “What happened? Is he still alive?”
“As far as we know,” Krysh mumbled.
Nyx shook her head, not accepting this answer. She found it hard to catch her breath, to challenge them. “What… What do you mean?”
Graylin glared at the alchymist. “Tell her.”
Krysh swallowed hard and nodded. “We all heard the attack on Iskar. The screams, the fighting, that awful keening. Kalder turned savage. Even Bashaliia fought to break free, maybe to aid you all. But I spotted the storm of wings over the village. I knew Bashaliia could not fight so many, especially while still recovering from his wounds. Vikas guarded the exit, refusing to let them leave. All the while, Bashaliia called and called for you, his cries deafening in that small space.”
Nyx rubbed her chest, trying to calm her pounding heart. “Then what?”
“It wasn’t you that answered. A covey of bats, half a dozen, crashed to the beach. The raash’ke screamed at us, muddling our senses. Bashaliia cast out his bridle-song in a furious wail that freed us. Before we could act, Kalder broke past Vikas and killed one of the raash’ke, ripping out its throat. Bashaliia went to his aid, trying to protect the vargr from the bats’ keening—but the pack was too fast, too strong. They surrounded Bashaliia. They pounded him low with their bridling, pinning him to the sand.”
Krysh looked with pity at her. “I didn’t think he could be brought down like that, not even with five attacking him. It was as if something far stronger was wielding them.”
Nyx closed her eyes. Guilt and fear strangled her. She knew the alchymist was right. During the battle, she remembered being relieved when the horde-mind had retreated from the fighting. She had believed her fiery attack upon the bat in the street had unnerved it, made it cautious and wary. She also remembered the dark presence, the spider in the shadows. She had sensed its cunning as it turned away from her—not to escape.
But toward another target.
Krysh continued, “None of us could resist the strength of that force. We all staggered, dropping, losing our senses. Before I fully succumbed, I saw those dark bats leap away with a blast of sand.”
“And Bashaliia?” Nyx whispered.
Krysh stared at her, his eyes apologetic. “He followed them, haltingly, trying not to go, but unable to stop.”
Nyx shook her head and stumbled away from the truth.
No…
But she could not escape the certainty inside her.
“They bridled him,” she gasped out.
Jace joined her. “He’ll break free. I know he will. The first chance he gets.”
She clutched her throat, remembering the force of that horde-mind, the malevolent intent of the spider. She flashed back to her first brush with that darkness. Up in the Sparrowhawk. She pictured the black bat clutching to the ship’s window, wings battering against the glass, its gaze fixed on her. Back then, she had felt the horde-mind staring through those eyes, casting out a silent threat.
It echoed in her head even now.
We will break you.
She closed her eyes, knowing the truth, knowing why they took Bashaliia.
They will break him instead.