Duskfall (22 page)

Read Duskfall Online

Authors: Christopher B. Husberg

BOOK: Duskfall
6.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“You all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, finally letting go of him. Knot was about to make a comment about how the mighty vampire couldn’t take the peer pressure, but Jane’s presence stopped him. There’d be time for sarcasm later. Perhaps Astrid would tell him what in Oblivion was behind the whole incident.

“I’m sorry about that,” Jane said. Knot turned to look at her.

“It’s fine,” he said, his arm still around Astrid.
Best to keep up appearances
. “I appreciate your help. I’m not the best at… that.”

Jane smiled. “You mustn’t take it personally. Everyone here has been under a great deal of pressure lately.” She knelt down in front of Astrid.

“They didn’t mean it, angel,” she said.

Knot resisted the urge to scoff.

“Whatever they were saying, they didn’t mean it,” Jane continued. “You know that, don’t you?”

Astrid nodded and Jane stood. “Normally I would be pleased to offer my family’s hospitality,” she said, “but I’m afraid we aren’t in the best position to offer sanctuary at the moment. That said, I can show you to an inn or two that might suit your needs, if you like.”

She began walking, heading for one of the main streets leading off the Circle. Knot looked down at Astrid. The girl didn’t return his gaze. He shrugged, and followed Jane, Astrid trailing behind them.

Knot kept a wary eye on their surroundings, still vaguely suspicious of a trap. But the woman seemed innocent enough. There was something odd about her, to be sure, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.

“If you don’t mind me asking, miss,” he said, “why’re you being so kind? The entire city seems uneasy.”

Jane smiled. “Nothing wrong with a bit of kindness, even when circumstances dictate otherwise.”

Knot frowned. He wondered what Jane knew about such “circumstances.” “Word has it trouble’s coming to Navone.”.

Jane was silent for a few moments. Knot was beginning to think she hadn’t heard him when she finally spoke. “Trouble, yes, I’m afraid so. A Holy Crucible is a serious thing.”

The response was cryptic at best, though Jane’s ears were turning red, Knot noticed.
Strange
. “Just hope they can find the ones responsible,” he said. “That’s all us Goddess-fearing folk can do.”

Knot gave Jane credit for the way she retained her composure, but his trained eye caught the signs. Her pupils were dilated, eyes wide. Her breaths came too quickly. She was nervous, but this was more than the typical nerves people displayed at the mention of a Holy Crucible. Jane was
scared
.

And she was lying.

“I pray our city can find peace,” was all she said. Knot didn’t have to inquire further. This woman probably knew someone involved. She was trying to act normally, but Knot could see past the act.

“Here we are,” she said, smiling, as they approached an inn. “Canta’s Grace.”

Not quite Canta’s Daemons but I suppose it’ll do.
Knot looked down at Astrid. Still she avoided his gaze.

“Well… thank you.” Knot was still oddly off-guard from Jane’s behavior. He wasn’t used to simple politeness.

“Anytime.” Jane’s eyes were gleaming. “I have a feeling we shall meet again.”

Goddess, I hope not
, Knot thought.
Last thing I need is to get caught up in whatever is happening in this backward city.

Jane looked down at Astrid. “And you as well, Lucia. Keep yourselves safe, until then. Travel in the hands of the Goddess.”

“Thank you,” Astrid muttered, as Jane walked off into the evening.

“That was… odd,” Knot said. “Do you think we can trust her?”

Astrid shrugged, and said nothing.

* * *

In the common room of Canta’s Grace, Knot sat with an untouched cup of mint tea. Despite what he thought he’d heard in Brynne, he was having second thoughts about turning Astrid over to the Holy Crucible.

She was putting on an act in the Circle Square
, he told himself.
She’s already proven her ability to put on a show. A mummer fit for a king.

The girl had only shown real emotion a few times in his presence. Anger, certainly, when he accused her of keeping secrets from him after Brynne. When she was feeding, after the bandits attacked them on the road, he’d seen something like shame.

And today, he could have sworn he saw sorrow in her eyes.

Which she could easily have faked
.

He heard footsteps and Knot’s hand strayed to the dagger at his waist. He was seated at the bar, near the corner of the room, but there was still space enough for someone to sneak up on him. Behind him a man coughed, and Knot turned. His hand relaxed on the dagger. The innkeeper, a tall portly man with watery eyes.

“Sir,” the innkeeper said, nodding respectfully.

Knot eyed him warily. As far as the innkeeper knew, Knot was only a common traveler. The innkeeper reached into his apron and pulled out a sealed letter. He handed it to Knot.

“This arrived for you.”

Knot shook his head. “You must be mistaken.”

“No, sir. It was just delivered moments ago. The man pointed you out specifically.”

Knot’s eyes narrowed. “Who brought it? Did you recognize him?”

Sweat beaded on the man’s brow. “No, sir. He wore a Borderguard uniform, but I’ve never seen the man in my life.”

A Borderguard
. Knot frowned.
What would a Borderguard want with me?

Knot took the letter. The innkeeper nodded, practically bowing in relief, and backed away.

Knot turned back to the bar. He didn’t recognize the seal imprinted on the wax; it looked like a set of extended eagle talons.

Knot broke the seal and opened the letter. His hand trembled. For the first time, Knot realized, he might learn something about his past. About himself.

It was addressed, in a flourishing, slanted script, to someone named Madzin. The name meant nothing to Knot. But, then again, nor did Lathe, the name the scarred man at the wedding had used.

Madzin,

I confess to wondering why you did not contact me as you usually do. Am I not the first person you seek whenever you arrive in Navone? If I have done anything to offend you, I sincerely apologize and hope to make amends. The last thing I want is to anger you, or your… friends, shall we call them?

It has been some time since we last saw or heard from one another. Almost two years, by my count. Perhaps you wonder if I am even around. Well, old friend, I am, just so you know. This letter is to assure you of that, should you ever need anything from me. My services are at your disposal, as always. The last time I helped you into Roden, I didn’t see you on your way back, but now here you are, at the border once more. I am sure you have your own ways and means.

I’ll not bother you further, friend. I hope all is well with you, and that your dealings in Navone, and wherever you go from here, are successful.

Sincerely yours,

Captain Jey Rudak, Fifth Borderguard

Knot read through the letter once more, just to be sure he read it correctly.

Knot had passed through Navone into Roden less than two years ago. A spike of hope jutted through him. Roden
was
where he needed to go; this letter all but confirmed that theory. Knot would have to seek out this Captain Rudak. The man might even be able to help him get across the border. The letter seemed an astounding stroke of luck. Knot’s instinct was to distrust such a boon, but he had to pursue the lead. He had to know.

Knot left his tea untouched and stood. He briefly considered leaving the city that very moment. He could just go, and Astrid might not find out for hours.

She would catch him, though. She knew where he was traveling, and she would have no trouble finding him again. Or he could leave now and take her with him. And perhaps run into the Crucible just as the Goddessguard was securing the city. Or perish in the Sorensan Pass.

Whatever road he took, there were risks.

Knot walked quietly up the stairs. He stopped, right outside the door of their room, and listened. His ears strained, but he heard nothing. No secret conversations. No hushed whispers.

The room was dark, the window and shutters closed. Knot could barely make out Astrid’s form in the corner, lying on the floor. Silent. No wise cracks, no jests.

Knot walked towards her. Risks were a part of life. He had seen so much death—caused it, in his dreams, and otherwise. He didn’t want to cause any more. Gently, he picked the girl up, and laid her on the bed. She was still awake, he could tell. He thought she might say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she drew into him, held him tightly.

Turning Astrid over to the Crucible was the prudent thing to do. He knew that.
Canta’s bones, she might be manipulating me right now.
But, in that moment as he held her, Knot realized he could not do it. He would not.

He laid her down, drawing the quilt up around her face. He stood watching her, and then moved to the chair next to the bed, to wait and see what the morning would bring.

20
Somewhere between Brynne and Navone

T
HE ATTACK CAME EARLY
, as they were breaking camp. Winter was crouching to roll her blankets when she heard a hiss above her. Winter could recognize the sound of an arrow anywhere.

Her head snapped around, looking for the source. They had camped near a group of boulders on a small hill with good visibility of the surrounding countryside, but she could see no one. At the same time her horse, Nynessa, directly in front of her, screamed.

Then, everything erupted in violence.

People yelled, more horses screeched, Lian shouted her name somewhere. The snapping hiss of more arrows.

Winter looked around. She heard another shout, and turned in time to see Nash barreling towards her.

He knocked her to the ground, forcing the air out of Winter’s lungs. She gasped, trying to suck in a breath. She saw Nynessa, lying still, the snow stained dark red around her. The smell of blood and shit hung heavy in the air.

Winter sat up in time to see Nash leap over the boulders and rush towards a group of figures that had appeared in the distance. She wasn’t sure how many there were; eight or nine, maybe. But they were wearing dark-green robes. Just like the men who had attacked her wedding.

A scattering of small black lines rose in the air towards Nash. Arrows. They would cut him down before he reached the robed men. But before Winter could warn him, the shafts scattered in the sky, falling harmlessly in different directions. Nash pressed forward, drawing his sword. At first Winter couldn’t imagine how the arrows had scattered in such a way. Then she remembered.

Her hand shot into the pouch at her waist. The
faltira
crystal had weighed her down like an anchor dragging along the ocean floor since Nash had given it to her. Winter had sensed it, yearned for it, but now that she needed it, she’d
forgotten
. She slipped the frost into her mouth as she turned to see Lian, Elsi, and Kali crouching behind the boulders. Both Elsi and Lian fired arrows towards the group of men. Kali only stood there, staring into the distance. Her face was strained with concentration, her body still.

Lian shouted in alarm, and Winter looked to her right to see two green-robed men leap over another rock outcrop. Winter reached for the dagger at her waist just as Kali turned to face the two men, drawing her long, curved sword from its sheath.

“He isn’t here,” one of the robed men growled.

Knot
, Winter thought suddenly.
They’re still looking for Knot. They thought he would be with me.

The man looked at Winter and smiled. “You’ll have to do.”

Before Winter could wonder what they meant, Kali leapt forward and attacked.

Winter knew that Nash was skilled in combat, and for some reason she’d assumed he did all the fighting. Winter had been wrong. The men advanced wielding longswords. One of them lunged, but Kali parried easily and spun between the two men. She dodged the other man’s swing, kicking behind her at the first man, knocking him off balance. Kali turned in time to deflect another slash from the second one. Winter blinked, surprised at how fast Kali ducked through the man’s attack and stepped into him, burying her sword in his belly. Winter felt a chill. Could she be like that, one day? Could she become such a warrior?

Winter’s eyes widened as a third man crested the rocks. “Kali!” she shouted. Then she tasted blood.

Kali turned, but remained still. The man she’d kicked stumbled to his feet, but instead of advancing on Kali, he turned towards the third robed man, sword raised, and attacked. It was only a matter of a few blows before one of the men slashed the other across the chest. Blood sprayed bright on the snow. Then Kali stepped behind the remaining robed man and stabbed him in the back.

Winter blinked. What had just happened?

Acumency
. Was it possible Kali could do more than delve into another’s thoughts? That she could make a man want to fight his ally?

The sound of combat drew away Winter’s gaze, and she looked back at Nash fighting in a clearing of snow spattered with red.

Four men surrounded him, but they were obviously hesitant. Steel whirred around him, and Winter suddenly realized the utility of the small, circular blades he carried at his belt. They cut savagely at any of the robed men that moved too close. Then Nash created a second blur of steel with his sword, smaller than the spinning blades but just as deadly. She saw now what he meant about multitasking, controlling the small blades with his mind and the sword with his body.

His sudden, incredibly fast movements were familiar. Winter had seen them once before. The entire scene seemed familiar. Attackers, hooded and robed, all in green, surrounding a man who seemed more than a man.

Winter had been helpless then, as she watched Knot battle the strange men from Roden. Now, as Nash fought, she had a realization: she wasn’t helpless anymore.

And then the frost hit her.

The dose was
massive
, consuming her whole body in joyous fire and shivers of pleasure. Much more powerful than the doses Nash had been giving her. Winter’s spine vibrated, charged with energy. She couldn’t contain the power if she wanted to. It rushed through her like a great river, immersing her. No one could stand against her. Not when she felt like this.

Other books

The Floor of Heaven by Howard Blum
Listening in the Dusk by Celia Fremlin
From Here to There by Rain Trueax
Mr. Sandman by Robert T. Jeschonek
Bully-Be-Gone by Brian Tacang
At That Hour by Janet Eckford
Granta 125: After the War by Freeman, John