CHAPTER 8 ALEK
ALEK
I’m impressed at how quickly Callyn scrambles to her feet.
I’ve seen scravers before, but my most recent experience was when they were trying to tear me to shreds.
Just now, the memory of it flashes in my brain, a winged monster swooping down from the sky, claws and fangs bared.
I have a sword in hand without even thinking of it, but my palm already feels slick. I tighten my grip.
But this scraver doesn’t attack. She’s landed on the road ahead of us, and her wings are half spread defensively, as if she could launch herself into the sky at a moment’s notice.
She’s terrifying and beautiful at the same time, with gray- and- purple markings on her skin that continue onto her wings.
Her hair is darker in color, though still streaked with broad strokes of gray and deep purples.
It’s full of tangles and hangs to her waist, and a few dried leaves are caught among the strands.
She’s not quite clothed, but she’s not naked either.
Leather is strapped to her body, and I can see sheaths for weapons, but they’re all empty.
I grab Callyn’s arm to put her behind me, and I’m shocked when she resists.
“What are you doing?” she grinds out. “I have magic.”
Like I need a reminder. “And I have a sword.”
The scraver still hasn’t moved. “If I wanted you dead, you already would be.” Her voice is light, but there’s a rough quality to it, as if she doesn’t speak often. Her eyes, all black, flash in my direction. “You will put your weapon away.”
“No,” I say. “I won’t.” I adjust my grip on the hilt.
A cool wind sweeps across the road, and ice forms on my sword, crawling up the length of the weapon, a slow gathering of crystals along the steel.
“Fascinating,” I say, biting back a shiver. “But it’s still just as sharp.”
The scraver takes a step toward me, and I automatically shift, my blade lifting to defend myself.
Her wings snap wide, and her lip curls, revealing the edge of her fangs.
Years of training have taught me how to see the moment before an attack.
It’s a flicker of eye movement, a tightening of muscles. A shifting of weight.
I see it now.
To my surprise, Callyn shoves my sword arm down and steps in front of me. I nearly shove her back again, but then she turns her glare on me. “Stop. Just stop. I remember her.”
I frown. “You remember—”
“Yes.” Callyn looks back at the scraver, and for a moment, her voice falters. “You were in Briarlock. Right?” She hesitates, then wets her lips. “You helped my sister.”
“You helped your sister,” says the scraver. “I simply helped direct your magic.”
“Why did you wreck our carriage?” I demand. “What do you want?”
“From you?” the scraver says dismissively. Bitterly cold wind whips around us, lifting her hair and stinging my cheeks. “Nothing.”
“You want me?” says Callyn. She takes a step back, nearly colliding with me. “Why?”
“Nakiis is badly injured. I need your magic.”
“Nakiis,” Callyn whispers, like the name is unfamiliar. “Was he in Briarlock, too?”
“Yes. He helped Tycho protect your king.” The scraver’s head cocks to the side, and then, without warning, she leaps into the air, and she’s gone.
Callyn whips around in a full circle. Her breath is still coming in clouded bursts. “What happened? Where did she go?”
But then we hear pounding hoofbeats, and a dozen soldiers come galloping through. I think they might stop when they see the broken trap lying on its side, but they don’t. Callyn and I have to scramble into the trees to clear the path so we don’t get trampled.
Once the soldiers are gone, I look down. Callyn has a tight grip on my forearm. Is she afraid? Or was she worried I would flag down the soldiers?
She follows my gaze, and it’s as if she’s surprised to find her hand there, too. Her cheeks turn pink, and she lets go. Her eyes flick to the trees and sky, looking for the scraver.
“Did the soldiers scare her off?” she murmurs.
A voice reaches our ears, but it’s not like any voice I’ve ever heard.
— They did not scare me, magesmith. But after what Xovaar did to your king, those soldiers would shoot me out of the sky.
“Xovaar,” I murmur. None of these names are familiar. I look at Callyn and realize that she might’ve been hiding more than just her magic. I keep my voice low. “Do you know this Xovaar? Do you know Nakiis?”
Callyn shakes her head rapidly. “I barely even know this one.”
— My name is Igaa. As I said, I need your help.
“Why should she help you?” I call back. “Your people are attacking Syhl Shallow. Maybe those soldiers should shoot you out of the sky.”
There’s no warning aside from a few rustling leaves before I’m tackled to the ground so hard that I go skidding into the underbrush.
The sword catches on a branch and slips out of my hand.
Leaves and branches work their way under my armor, but if I weren’t wearing any, she might’ve crushed my ribs.
As it is, she lands on my chest, her claws gripping tight to my throat.
For an instant, all I see are her eyes, black and gleaming in the sunlight. Fear grips my heart, and I can’t think. I can’t move.
But then I hear Callyn’s voice, tight with strain. “Let him go.”
Igaa leans down closer, but her words are for Callyn, not me. “I don’t need him. I just need you, magesmith.”
“I’m not a magesmith.” Callyn’s voice is breathy but strong. “But I have his sword— and I know how to use it.”
Good girl.
But Igaa doesn’t move. I can feel every claw pressing into my skin. It hurts to breathe.
“Let me up,” I say.
“No.”
“Use the sword,” I say to Callyn.
“I can kill him before you kill me,” says the scraver. As if to prove it, her claws press tighter, and a sudden sting tells me she’s broken the skin. I gasp, and a warm drop of blood makes its way down my neck.
“You said you need my help,” says Callyn. “If you hurt him— if you hurt him at all— you won’t get it.”
At that, the scraver freezes. My heart is pounding, my head spinning. But then she abruptly shoves herself off my chest, taking to the air, landing in a tree twenty feet above. I’m left gasping in the dirt, choking on nothing, scrambling to right myself.
— We are not with the scravers who are attacking your people, she says from above. — Nakiis is trying to stop them.
I sit up, rubbing a hand against my throat. “I’m not sure I believe you.” — I do not care what you believe, human.
“I’m not sure I believe you,” says Callyn.
— You should. Without your help, Nakiis will die. Then there will be no one to stand against Xovaar.
“One less scraver?” I say. “I’m not sure what the problem is.”
She lets out a screech that’s so shrill I can’t help but cringe. Callyn drops the sword to press her hands over her ears.
But as I hear it, the sound triggers a memory. I was seventeen years old, and my sister was still alive. We were at a court dinner in the Crystal Palace, shortly after the former queen had vowed to help Grey take the throne in Emberfall.
Queen Karis Luran had trapped a scraver named Iisak, and she kept him on a chain. After dinner, she ordered him to eviscerate a guardsman who’d disappointed her.
That scraver made a sound just like that, then attacked.
It was the most horrific thing I’d ever seen. I remember wondering if my mother had been killed by a creature just like it.
I haven’t thought of that moment in years, and the memory makes me shudder. But at the time, I was startled because Lia Mara wasn’t afraid of the creature. She seemed to trust him, and in fact, once she took the throne, she granted the scraver his freedom. She called him an ally. A friend.
I look up at Igaa through the branches. Her gray- and- purple coloring blends into the shadows of the branches, and as the screech dies out, I realize the sounds of the forest have gone absolutely silent. Animals hiding in the presence of a predator.
We should probably be doing the same thing. My heart won’t stop begging me to run.
But I’ve been afraid before. I know how to put away fear and move forward.
I look up at Igaa and keep my tone bored. “Are you done?”
She hisses at me.
Callyn hits me in the arm. “Alek.”
“You heard her. If she was going to hurt us, she would’ve done it already.”
I think.
But I must be right, because the scraver doesn’t move. Her claws are still embedded in the bark of the tree, her figure completely still, nearly lost among the foliage.
I expect her to screech at me again, but she doesn’t.
— Please, she says instead, and there’s a note of desperation in her silent voice. — I would have summoned Tycho instead, but he is too far. I cannot leave Nakiis for long.
I consider the purpose of our mission. The queen sent us to find information about the Truthbringers. We should be conversing with the other Royal Houses, but perhaps there’s another way.
My heart won’t stop thrumming with wild panic, but I ignore it and look at Callyn. “Do you want to help her?”
Surprise lights in her eyes, and she drops her voice to a whisper. “She helped me save Nora.” She pauses, then wets her lips. “But I don’t know if we can trust them.”
I study her, struck by the words— because I really don’t know if I can trust her.
As if she realizes the same thing, Callyn sighs. “I didn’t betray you, Alek.”
“Hmm,” I say, putting that away for later. I glance at the broken wreckage of the trap, then look back up at the scraver hiding among the branches.
“Where is Nakiis?” I say.
Igaa looks east and nods in that direction. “Five miles, perhaps.” Without another word, she launches off the branch. Her wings flare wide, then snap hard, catching the wind. “I can lead you.”
Five miles. I swear under my breath. “You might’ve left us the horse,” I call. Then I sheathe my sword and turn to Callyn. “Come on.”
Her eyes are wide. “You want me to help her?”
I shrug and start walking. “The queen sent us out to get information.” I glance over as she falls into step beside me. “Let’s go get it.”