Chapter 39
Lyra
The Night Ledges are made of slate and granite stones.
Ancient ash hardened into jagged layers peeks through lighter shards of rock, and over the seasons, folk had carved out switchback roads all along the cliffs.
Paths took a sharp veer this way and that up the steep slope that burned the lungs and throbbed in the legs.
The journey was tiresome. Paths were littered with uneven rock and sharp stones, and with the horses, wolves, and us with more aches and bruises from the attack, we maintained a weary pace.
The Unfettered Folk took the head and rear, boxing in the rest of us, but halfway up the steep cliff, I was glad for it.
I studied their steps, mimicking how they avoided slipping and scraping their knees on stones.
They moved like the wind across the sea, part of the climb but above it all at once.
Lifetimes of traipsing to and from the upper ledges added strength to their bodies and a sure-footed gait I did not share.
Two of Thane’s Stav Guard still lived. The other two had fallen with Kael’s attack. The men slipped more than once, all the bulky armor over their shoulders adding an uneven weight.
Emi admitted that heights turned her stomach and spun her head.
Once we were twenty paces above the canyon floor, she clung to the cliffside with one hand and barely managed to hold tightly to the reins of her horse with the other.
Her fingernails dragged along the stone as though she would claw a tunnel straight through it.
Forty paces up, Yrsa let out a huff of irritation, took command of Emi’s mare, slipped her fingers through Emi’s, and had been whispering soft assurances since.
Roark kept watch on my back, silent and stoic, the warrior alive in his countenance. Always ready to strike.
I looked over my shoulder when we spilled onto a wider switchback for water and rest. The Unfettered were clever and had fashioned a sort of sleigh from twigs and branches. For the first part of the journey, Roark’s horse and Thane’s dragged Kael’s unmoving body behind them.
Until he stirred.
He’d thrashed against the thick bands on his wrists that were secured to another strap around his middle.
Roark stepped in front of my brother, shadows spilling from his pores. Kael’s eyes had grown milky and distant, and the red glow of Skul Drek had flashed in Roark. I did not know what the deledan threatened him with, but he’d been scowling and silent since.
Now he walked near the back, his hands bound and tied to the bridle of one horse while Gunter and Auki walked on either side, blades at the ready. Brynn kept near òlmr, a look of discontent on her face every time she stole a glance at my now-twisted brother.
He understands what will become of him should he try to touch anyone, Roark said against my palm.
I accepted the skin of water he held out. “I know you pulled him away to the realm of souls, which I don’t understand. You do not have a bond.”
So certain? He cupped a palm around the back of my neck, drawing my mouth close to his, then spoke against my cheek. You are my wife; he is your brother. Like it or not, fate has shackled him to me as well.
I could not help it; I laughed.
This Kael, surly and bloodthirsty, likely despised Roark Ashwood having any command over his soul. The true Kael would be giddy that a man he’d always admired was now his kin through me.
“What did you say to him?”
Warned him what would happen should he touch a single soul here. Brutal things you’d be furious I dared even speak. A lot of blood and pain, then a bit of proof what I said was true.
“Roark, what did you do?”
Me? Don’t blame me. He turned to offer the water to Thane and the Stav, gesturing over his shoulder. Blame those darker edges that make you scream, wife.
Bastard.
I did not know what Roark had done, but Kael kept rubbing a spot over his ribs, just below his heart, as though the bones ached.
As we rose, the air grew thin and crisp, and a heavy cloud cover encircled the upper ledges like a cold swamp. To wade through the mists slowed our steps. When frigid rains fell, the Unfettered did not stop, but merely tugged their fur cowls lower over their brows and trudged on.
Roark shrugged off his own woolen hood and placed it over my head amid my protests. Until the shade of his palms turned a sickly blue, and I forced him to squeeze beside me so we could walk together, siphoning whatever warmth we had left.
By the time stars broke through the murky storm, our feet dragged and our complaints grew silent. What was the point? It felt as though we all knew we kept pressing forward or we stopped and died of cold on the Night Ledges.
A sob nearly spilled out of me when the path flattened and we reached the high peak. More switchbacks descended to a valley below. Distant lanterns speckled the night from a village, shelter, warmth.
The lead Unfettered woman stepped to my side, tossing back her damp hood. “ ’Tis a simpler journey from the other canyon across the Myrdan border. But you all fared well enough. Even your creature is silent.”
Kael kept a distance from the others. His gold curls stuck to his brow, and he pointed his rage nowhere but at the ground.
“You said you saw us.” I gave a nod of thanks when the woman handed over the water again. “What do you mean?”
“Our clans are talented in ways your folk are not.”
“You do have craft.”
“Every soul is blessed by the gods in some sense,” she said.
“Different abilities do not mean lesser, greater, or dangerous. We do not fear your differing powers, and we certainly don’t go boasting about ours.
We live simple lives here. Organized in our own ways, but free of power-mad kings and queens. ”
I took in the Unfettered village. “If you do not bother with our realms, why are you here, helping us?”
“As I said, we do not fear different craft,” she said. “We find beauty in all of it, even your dark prince there.”
Roark tended to Emi, who could, at last, breathe now that we’d reached wider roads and flat ground. She would need to prepare to descend from the height, but she seemed steadier when Yrsa sat beside her on a boulder.
“His craft is fearsome to many,” I admitted. “Not to me.”
“What we fear is when gifts of the gods are not used how the gods intended. When greedy folk twist and corrupt.” She tilted her head toward Kael. “Such things impact us all. Unfettered may be peaceful folk, but should these corrupters defeat you, they will come to us.”
“So you help to avoid future battles.”
She smiled. “Wouldn’t you? We are bold. Warriors if we must be, but we prefer a life of peace, where we can be free.”
“Does no one lead here?”
“We have what is called our Lawspeaker. Like a king in your lands, but he lives in more humility, guiding and serving our clan. He keeps our peace and our laws.”
“He sent you?”
“He took counsel from the seemódir. She is an elder who guides us on our fate.”
Like Vella falsely claimed to do in Skalfirth. “I knew an Unfettered woman who had been captured and sold. She was a seer and looked after me as a girl.”
The woman hummed. “Sold? I do not know any of my folk who would stand for such a thing. They would rather greet the gods. If she remained to look after you, then you must have mattered to her a great deal. Rarely does my clan show much affection to outsiders.”
“Again, you are here helping us.”
She grinned. “I assure you, little one, I would much rather be warm in my bed right now. But fate has other plans.”
The woman said nothing more and led us down the backside of the Night Ledges.
Roark took my hand, keeping close to my side. Thane was in better spirits without the bitter whip of the canyon winds on our faces and had taken up taunting Auki about his fear of piercing holes in his ears.
Thane tugged on the bones pierced in his lobes. “I’ll do it for you, fearsome Dark Watcher. What is your task again? Running with the damn wolves? But, oh, you pale at a small hole in your ear.”
Gunter laughed. Even Auki chuckled.
Strange, wonderful, unbelievable—Dravens and Jorvans and Myrdans all walking among Unfettered Folk as allies.
Fadey was horrid and vicious, but did he know how fiercely his greed was uniting enemies?
The moon was high when we reached one of the roads leading to the village. The air was absent of the hint of brine from the long and short seas back home. Instead, each breath was cool and crisp, with the taste of sweet grass and smoke.
Vine-wrapped gates I’d not noticed from above encircled the village. Unfettered lands were made of tall, grassy meadows and slender, crooked trees. The valley was wide and deep, expansive open grounds with a few distant forests.
The woman and her crew led us alongside a dark, winding river. Odd stalks of grass with vibrant blue berries grew in the water instead of on land. Pale petals surrounded the fruit and seemed to glisten in the moonlight.
Throughout the river other people stood knee-deep in the water, harvesting the berries.
“Heila root,” the lead woman called over her shoulder. “Our most valuable crop in the River Clan.”
My heart jumped. Nivek had spoken of this clan.
“The berries can sustain a man for a month without meat or grain,” she went on. “The roots are strong enough to weave into rope, and the blooms can heal the blood, bones, and dire wounds. You may see forms of it in your blood crafted tonics and spells.”
“Only blooms under moonlight,” said another Unfettered man. “Harvested in the sun, it will wilt.”
I had not realized I’d paused to watch the men and women picking the strange stalks until Roark tugged on my hand.
Watchguards lined the gates in narrow towers lit by torchlight.
They wore heavy cloaks made of bear and fox pelts.
Their faces were smudged like they’d rolled in ash, with black and white paint streaked down their eyes, cheeks, and chins.
The guards were armed with spears and blades that reminded me of scythes.
“Keela,” a guard shouted down. “You’ve returned with visitors?”
The woman tossed back her hood. “I found the souls the seemódir saw. Open the gates.”
Ropes whipped and went taut. Hinges on the thick doors protested and cracked, but slowly the wooden barrier split.
“Follow me,” Keela said.
My pulse quickened and my stomach felt as though stacked stones filled the bottom. I did not let on to anyone that my nerves were raging except to squeeze Roark’s hand. No doubt he would not be able to feel his fingers come dawn.
We followed closely, the feel of eyes from the Unfettered guards boiling over my scalp. Then, on my next step, I slammed into something solid, the force of it cracked against my skull.
“Gods.” I pressed a palm to my brow, mortified I’d walked into one of the damn walls.
But I hadn’t.
Roark reeled around, confused. Nothing was before me. No gate, no wall, no tree. Nothing. I blinked and took a step forward. Again, my body slammed into something solid, something unseen.
What is it? Roark would not release my hand.
“I don’t know. I can’t go forward.”
Brynn strode past with her brother but paused two paces ahead of me. Next, Thane, Emi, and Yrsa.
Even Kael strode past, less like he despised us and more with amused concern on his features. “Trouble, Lyra? We can always return to Stonegate.”
Roark glared at Kael. My brother jolted and shook his head, cursing under his breath. Clearly he was battling the viciousness of the soul bones.
The whole of our travel party gathered around me but could continue walking through the gates.
Roark gently pulled on my hand and spoke low between us. Try again.
Disquiet rippled over my arms. One step, two—my forehead struck a shield.
I scrambled back. “Roark. I can’t go through. What’s happening?”
He stepped by my side, pulling me against him, unwilling to move forward without me.
“What is the problem?” Keela materialized through the crowd.
I shook my head. “Something is keeping me out.”
The woman returned a narrow look. “You cannot cross our wards? The only soul we’ve warded from our gates is the destroyer of realms. The one you fight, the one who seeks all folk to bend the knee.”
“I-I-I know. Fadey, he cannot step through. That’s why he sent my brother to use against me. He believes a bone shard is here, and he desires me to get it for him, but I plan to destroy it.”
Keela snorted. “Bone shards. That’s what you are after?”
“The Wanderer’s.” I dragged my fingers through my hair, panic rising. “I can see the souls of bones with my craft. We have reason to believe the power of one of the Wanderer’s bones is buried here. Is that why I can’t enter? Because I have the same craft as Fadey?”
Another voice, gentler, more aged, broke through the crowd. “The wardings are against his blood, not the power within it, elskan.”
I froze.
Roark’s arm around my shoulders held me firmer against his side. Another woman, hunched and clad in a long, black silken gown, stepped forward. Unfettered Folk dipped their chins, greeting her as “Seemódir” and stepping aside for her to come to me.
Her knobby fingers were inked in the lovely coils I’d traced so many times, her eyes as kind as I recalled. She beamed down at me, the chip in her front tooth still there. I’d forgotten it.
I blinked through tears. “Gammal. You’re alive.”