Authors: Jenna Burtenshaw
Winterveil (2 page)
It took less than a minute for Edgar to pile a mound of sand on top of the grave, while Silas kept his eyes upon the ocean, completely ignoring his efforts.
“I'm assuming you have some sort of plan?” asked Edgar.
Silas said nothing, and Edgar knew better than to ask again.
As soon as Edgar finished, he joined Silas within the shadow of the cave wall, watching the boat moving closer to the shore. Whatever plan Silas had in mind, Edgar would be ready when the time came. Until then all either of them could do was wait.
K
ate Winters was standing on the forward deck of the Blackwatch ship when the eastern coast of Albion crept into sight. She had hardly slept during the voyage. Her only view of the outside world had been through a tiny window facing back toward the Continent, and she had spent hours looking out of it, staring into darkness, watching the stars glinting against a black velvet sky. It felt good to be out in the open again.
The sea breeze stung life into her cheeks as the ship's crew toiled on the deck below and a woman in a long gray coat strode between them, watching them work with a critical eye. Kate could not recall much beyond her short time upon the ship, and whenever she tried to remember, she found it hard to concentrate for very long. She had a memory of traveling in a carriage and arriving at a port, but anything more detailed than that refused to make any sense. It was like trying to remember a dream when most of it had already faded away.
The wind tugged at Kate's long black hair as she leaned against the guardrail separating her from the sea. The coast of Albion emerged slowly as an inky sprawl of cliffs in the distance, and as the ship drew closer to the shore, the gentle energies of the veil began to settle around her. The powerful influence of the woman on deck prevented her thoughts from venturing too far into the realm that lingered between the living and the dead, but that, she had been told, was for her own protection.
Dalliah Grey claimed that Kate was her student and she was her teacher and had promised that Kate's memory would gradually return over time. When Kate looked at the woman, she expected to feel some flicker of recognition, or at least a slight hint of trust, yet all she felt was a dull creeping sense of unease.
Dalliah left the captain's side and climbed the steps to join Kate where she stood looking toward the coast. “The veil is at its most powerful in these lands,” said Dalliah. “You will experience changes as we approach the shore. That is natural. Make sure you are prepared.”
Frost played across Dalliah's fingertips and gathered on her eyelashes as the veil's influence swept in across the water. Kate remembered what she had been told. She breathed in deeply and gripped the guardrail as tightly as she could. The chill of air in her lungs and the ache in her fingers grounded her physical senses more strongly to the living world, but even that could not prevent her own skin from frosting briefly as the veil whispered around her.
Kate wanted to let her soul reach out and reconnect with her country, her home, but she could feel Dalliah watching her, quietly studying her reaction to the land's unique atmosphere. Just being close to Albion again made Kate's blood pulse with steady energy. If she pushed herself, she was sure she could break the restriction Dalliah had placed upon her, but she had the unsettling feeling that she was being tested. If what she had been told about her life was true, nothing would be lost by being cautious. If something else was happening and she pushed too far, Dalliah would simply strengthen her hold. It was better to appear weak than to risk showing too much resistance, at least until she could discover the truth about their journey.
Kate tried to close her mind against the veil, but she did not let go of it completely. She let its presence linger as a gentle whisper at the back of her thoughts and watched the souls within it drifting as a hint of gray haze seen at the very edges of her vision. She tucked her hands into her sleeves, concealing the frost that was spreading across her fingers, then closed her eyes against the cold wind and listened secretly to a sound that few people could hear. It was a hollow sound, empty and dull, like an echo of a voice fading in an empty room. It was the kind of noise most people would forget about as soon as they heard it, but for those who recognized what they were listening to, it was the most amazing sound in the world.
Kate was one of the Skilled, one of the rare few who could hear the voices of souls that had not yet made the full journey into death. She could hear thousands of whispers, thoughts, and cries bleeding from the shores of Albion, becoming louder as the ship traveled in toward a small cove. She could not make out any distinct words, but the more she listened, the clearer her own clutch of scattered memories became. She remembered fire and smoke and a circle made of carved symbols drawn upon an old stone floor. She tried to hold the memory and let it grow, until Dalliah's cold hand touched hers, forcing her to open her eyes.
Dalliah's face was inches away from her own, her eyes sharp with curiosity. When Kate tried to step back, the woman held her still.
“What can you see out there?” she asked.
Kate did not want to admit how strongly the veil was calling to her, so she focused upon something solid and physical instead. “The cliffs,” she said. “They look beautiful from here.”
The older woman gave a slight smile of satisfaction, making Kate believe that her secret was safe. She may not have known why it was important for her to keep it, but as long as she had even the slightest doubt about her situation, she would trust her own instincts far more than any living soul upon that ship.
She returned as warm a smile as she could manage toward the woman who claimed to be her protector. Dalliah was a tall woman who looked no older than sixty, with short hair flecked with gray and a strong body. Her clothes were old and well worn, and she wore twists of dried flowers and leaves around her wrists, marking her as someone who often worked with the dead. When her eyes met Kate's, they were critical and cold; they belonged to someone who had lived too long, had seen too much, and had many secrets to hide.
Dalliah was no ordinary woman. She had lived far longer than anyone alive. Her extraordinary connection to the veil allowed her body to heal itself almost instantly, stretching her unnatural existence until she was now almost five hundred years old. She had spent most of those years in exile on the Continent. Now she was traveling back to Albion for the first time in two centuries, taking Kate back to the ancient city of Fume.
“Is your memory returning?” Dalliah's question was simple enough, but the look she sent with it was heavy with threat.
“No,” Kate answered quickly.
“Da'ru tried to lie to me, too,” said Dalliah, “when she was a girl, not very much older than you. You would be foolish to follow her path.”
The name was familiar, but Kate did not know from where.
“Da'ru was your predecessor,” said Dalliah. “She might not have possessed your level of natural ability, but I would have preferred you both worked together toward what we must do. Sadly, that is not possible.”
“Why not?” asked Kate.
“Because she is dead.” Dalliah said the words as coolly as if she were commenting on the weather. It was a statement, given without a hint of real interest or emotion.
“What happened to her?”
“A student who cannot defend her own life is of no use to me,” said Dalliah. “The details are not important. Da'ru had her chance. It took fifteen years to teach her what she knew. You have only a few days. Do not waste time by lying to me again.”
She turned away from the sea and spoke to an officer who was standing at the top of the staircase leading down to the main deck. The officer glanced at Kate and nodded firmly before heading that way to gather a group of his men. Kate looked down across the deck and watched the Blackwatch work. Some were lowering a small boat over the side of the ship, while others pulled in the sails, bringing the huge vessel to a steady stop.
Ahead of them, a tower reached up from the rocks like a ghost swathed in icy air. The small cove nearest the ship appeared deserted, yet Kate's eyes were drawn immediately to a shallow cave worn into the side of the cliff. Something about the darkness drew her in. There was a presence inside, something neither fully dead nor fully alive, waiting in the dark.
“We will go to the shore together,” said Dalliah. “Do you have the book?”
Kate rested her hand on a small lump underneath her coat pocket. Even without her memories, she felt protective toward the book that was concealed inside. Dalliah had warned her not to open it until they reached Albion's capital city, but Kate had defied her and secretly flicked through its pages during her time alone in the cabin. The words inside looked familiar, and she found that she did not have to read everything to know what was written there; the slightest reminder was all it took for her mind to fill in the gaps. She had read that book before. It felt like a vital part of her that she had to guard at all costs.
“Do not allow anyone to take that from you,” Dalliah said. “Keep it safe.”
Kate nodded her agreement. She would keep it safe . . . even from Dalliah. She followed Dalliah down the short staircase to the main deck, where the Blackwatch were already lowering the boat.
“Your assistance has been appreciated,” Dalliah said to the man in charge as she unhooked a small traveling bag from the side of the deck. “I have no doubt your military plans will run just as smoothly, when the time comes.”
“We are prepared,” said the officer. “Three of my men will row you to shore, and I have already sent word for horses to be readied for your arrival. You and the girl will be escorted to Fume, as we agreed.”
“And the city gates?”
“Entry has been arranged,” said the officer. “My men will get you inside. They have procured the item you asked for. Beyond those gates, the city is yours.”
Dalliah nodded her head in thanks, and the officer backed away. “Climb down quickly,” she said to Kate. “Fume is two days away, on horseback. We will need time to work before the Continental army begins rattling its swords outside the capital.”
Kate descended a long rope ladder leading down into the waiting boat. The tiny vessel was barely big enough for a handful of people, and its rear half was covered by a wooden roof raised on posts, allowing passengers to see out and the wind to surge in. Two officers were already seated near the middle, each manning an oar. Kate took her seat on a small bench under the roof, and Dalliah sat beside her, followed by another man, who knelt at the front of the boat, sweeping a spyglass across the cove, searching for any signs of life. Once he gave the all clear, the boat's tether was released, and the officers worked the oars steadily toward the shore.
The rhythmic sound of wood upon water accompanied them across the choppy sea. The small group traveled in silence, leaving the great black ship behind them, but before they had rowed very far, Kate heard a fluttering sound nearby. She looked back at the ship and spotted a shadow moving among its sails, something too small to be one of the crew and too large to be one of its resident rats.
A bedraggled crow had settled in the rigging with its wings hunched up, glaring directly down at her. Its inky feathers completely absorbed the light from the rising sun, making it look like a shadow except for a bright streak of white feathers that slashed across its chest.
“Kate.”
Dalliah's voice made her look away, not wanting to draw attention to the bird.
“You will carry this.” Dalliah slid her traveling bag from her shoulder and dropped it at Kate's feet. Its upper flap had folded open, revealing a collection of old books and loosely rolled scrolls packed neatly together. Most of them were written in a language Kate did not know, but a few of the symbols she spotted were familiar: an open eye, a wolf, a sword. . . . As she agreed to take care of the bag, the crow skittered out of sight behind the ship's sails. When she looked up again, it was gone.
The officers rowed together, steering the boat into the cove. The watchtower's point of land blocked the coast farther north from view, while the cliffs turned inward to the south, leaving nothing but a vast expanse of sea. Crags of dark rock, their upper edges glistening with frost, loomed high above the travelers.
Dalliah's hand rested upon Kate's, and Kate felt a wash of calm creep over her. Her thoughts threatened to retreat again into a distant part of her memory, ready to be locked away, barely remembered, as Dalliah continued to keep her mind under control, but Kate had no intention of allowing herself to be subdued like a child. Tiny flickers of memory had begun to return. She did not want to forget them again. This time she resisted.
A flurry of hailstones rattled hard upon the boat's roof and stabbed into the waters around them. Kate barely felt the chill of the ice as it swirled in around her. Instead of deadening her senses, Dalliah's interference had only made her more determined to hold on to everything she did not want the older woman to know. She focused upon the soft gray light gathered at the edges of her vision and was certain she saw movement there, close to the boat, drifting upon the water. Shades of the dead were not restricted to moving upon land. They could drift freely within the confines of the veil, separate from the living world but still reflected within it as shimmering mists and points of soft white light, to those whose eyes could see them there.
Dalliah moved her hand from Kate as the veil drew more powerfully toward them. She had been away for a long time. The veil's influence did not spread very far beyond Albion's soil, and Dalliah had been forced to struggle and experiment to connect with it while living so far away. Now that she was heading into the very heart of its energy, her face filled with relief.
Enthralled as she was by the veil, it soon looked as if she were no longer aware of anyone else in the boat with her. Kate was glad of it. The last thing she wanted was to hold Dalliah's attention for too long. The clearer her thoughts became, the more her instincts screamed at her to get away from the woman as soon as possible.
The rowers landed the boat on the sand with a smooth grating bump. The scrape of the hull distracted Dalliah. The two rowers climbed out and dragged the boat farther up onto the sandy shore, where Dalliah stepped onto dry land, letting her long dress trail through the wet sand.
