Duskfall (24 page)

Winter bared her teeth, gripping the small dagger as the bear turned to face her. She was suddenly aware of how ridiculous she must look—how foolish. A small tiellan, holding a little knife and growling in the face of a massive snowbear. What chance did she have?

Then Kali barreled into the animal, slashing downward with her sword.

The bear screamed this time—a very different sound from a growl—and turned angrily to face its new attacker. But the damage was done. The bear swiped at Kali, but her horse moved nimbly aside, sidestepping into the stream. Kali stabbed down again, this time burying her blade in the animal’s neck. The bear moaned, then collapsed to the ground with a thud.

“Canta’s bones,” Kali gasped, “that was the most insane thing I’ve ever seen. You charged a
snowbear
, Winter.”

Winter looked at her, shivering.

Then Kali smiled. “I told you,” she said. “Second battle. You didn’t freeze up. You did something incredibly
stupid
, but you didn’t freeze up. And you didn’t have frost to help you. I’m almost impressed.”

Winter looked down at herself, covered in blood and ice. Her hands were shaking. And yet… and yet she felt good.
Alive
. She almost felt the way she did when she took frost, although the feeling wasn’t nearly as strong. Perhaps Kali was right. Perhaps she
did
have strength within her.

Winter couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

The man they had been tracking had also encountered the snowbear, but hadn’t been as lucky. Winter and Kali found his remains in the bear’s cave, around the bend in the stream.

“We tracked him this far for nothing?” Winter said, suddenly feeling sick as she looked at the mess of blood and entrails.

“Not quite,” Kali said. “We found out how bloody good at tracking you are, for one. We found out, too, that you have no sense of self-preservation.” Kali glared at her, and Winter blushed, but there was a glint in Kali’s eye that made pride well up in Winter’s breast.

“The man can’t inform anyone else of us or our position anymore, so that’s something,” Kali continued. “Now we can catch up with the others on the road, hardly having lost any time. All in all, I’d call it a win.”

Winter nodded, looking from the man’s remains down to her shivering body, both covered in blood. A win, indeed.

“I’
M SORRY, SIR
,”
THE
innkeeper said. “Holy Crucible’s orders. No one leaves the city, and any travelers must remain in their lodgings until they’ve been checked.”

Knot swore.

“So much for avoiding trouble,” Astrid muttered behind him.

“Look,” Knot said to the innkeeper, spreading his arms wide, “I’m just a merchant, trying to ply my trade. Got no business with the Denomination, I’d just waste their time.”

The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed. “You and everyone else in Navone. Stay in the common room, or your own room if you want. Sons’re already out and about.” The innkeeper didn’t have to point out the group of armored men seated at one of the tables in the common room; they’d been the first thing Knot noticed on his way down the stairs. The Sons were different from watch or guardsmen. Their reputations preceded them, of course, but Knot could
see
their experience in the way they carried themselves. Each had a sense of stiff organization and obedience, even in the common room.

“They say the Goddessguard’re among us as well,” the innkeeper said, whispering now. “Some of them are patrolling from house to house, questioning everyone inside. Weeding out the heretics. Others’re just sneaking around. Spying, seeing if there’s any among us who support the heretics, making sure we’re following the rules. Anybody who don’t live here could be one of them, any traveler, any… er…”

The man’s voice trailed off as he refocused on Knot. He coughed and didn’t meet Knot’s eyes. “Anyway,” he said stiffly, “I just hope they’re able to quell this business quickly. Heretics are giving our city a bad name. Long live Canta’s Holy Denomination, and all that.” The man went through the motion of trining himself, tapping his thumb and first two fingers on top of his forehead, then below each eye.

Astrid sniggered as they turned away. “You, a
Goddessguard
. People’ve lost all sense in this city. What did he think I was, the Crucible in disguise?”

Knot ignored her as they walked away from the bar, towards a window that looked over the small alleyway outside the inn. If he pressed his face close to the glass he could glimpse one of the main streets they’d traversed the night before. Seemed empty, for the most part. That didn’t bode well for anyone planning an escape. Anyone but Sons of Canta on the streets would stick out like a broken nose.

That was far from the worst of their problems. The sun had risen bright and clear that morning, in a near cloudless blue sky. Snow glistened on rooftops as the icicles hanging in front of the window slowly melted.

Being caught by a squad of Sons was one thing. Being questioned by them, risking them ordering Astrid to remove her cloak in broad daylight, was quite another. The girl could be out during the daytime as long as she was covered, by clouds or a cloak or a rooftop or otherwise, but if she was exposed to any direct sunlight there’d be problems. Those were her words, anyway, and Knot didn’t feel inclined to test them. He wondered for a moment what it would be like, to know that the sunlight would never touch his skin again.

Knot still hadn’t decided what to do with the girl. But one thing was sure: he didn’t want anything to do with the Holy Crucible.

“We could take side roads. Sneak through the city,” he said, knowing the suggestion was folly even as he said it. “Might be able to make it.”

“What then?” Astrid asked. “We get to the city wall, leap over it and onward to freedom? Things are never that easy.”

Sons would be patrolling the wall, of course, and likely the surrounding countryside. But the letter Knot had received the night before… if he could find this Captain Rudak, they might stand a chance.

“Don’t know,” Knot said after a moment. “I’m making this up as I go along. Might be we could fight our way out, all things considered.”

Astrid laughed. “I’m all for spontaneity, nomad, but we aren’t invincible. Can’t fight our way out of everything.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Since when did you get all peaceable?”

“Since when did you get so warlike? Thought you wanted to harm as few people as possible. Are you finally willing to face your true nature?” She was grinning.

He didn’t answer, and turned back to the window. Truth be told, Knot
didn’t
want to face his true nature, whatever that was. Dreams were bad enough; what he had seen himself do in reality was even worse. And the fact that he enjoyed it didn’t bear thinking about.

“Why don’t we wait until nightfall?” Astrid asked. “More cover for us, and if it does come to a fight, I’ll be much more effective.”

“Don’t know if we can wait that long,” he said. “The Goddessguard, the Crucible herself, are scouring the city. Might be they reach our inn before then.” He thought about it for a moment. “Ain’t no immediate danger if they question us inside, though. Wouldn’t need to worry about your cloak, at least. Our story just might hold.”

“What if it’s the Crucible herself?” Astrid asked.

“What if it is?”

“A Holy Crucible
knows
things. She sees into people. She’ll see into me. Oblivion, she’ll probably see into you, too. It’s not like your past is all perfume and flowers.”

Knot turned back to the window, looking out into the alley. “You really believe that?”

The girl didn’t respond. It didn’t matter. All that did was getting out of here, and they’d do whatever it took to make that happen.

“We wait ’til nightfall, then.”

Astrid nodded. “Nightfall.”

* * *

In the end, Knot and Astrid didn’t have to wait long. After they’d played a few games of warsquares down in the common room, the doors to the inn burst open.

A fully armored Goddessguard, his tabard a bright scarlet bordered with white, strutted into the room. Goddessguards typically wore full plate armor, polished and etched with gold. This man was no exception. The Sons who’d been there since that morning stood at attention while more of the soldiers walked in. They wore barbute helmets and chain mail. Eleven in all, including the Goddessguard.

“Good day,” the Goddessguard said in a gruff, gravelly voice that seemed to imply anything but. He removed his helm, placing it under one arm, and raised his other hand high. The room fell silent. “No need to fear us,” he said. “We have been called here for a specific purpose. We are doing Canta’s work, and require your assistance. We’d like to speak to all of you, one group at a time. The Sons will direct a queue, and you’ll all have the opportunity to speak with me shortly. Cooperate, and this will all pass quickly.”

The Goddessguard nodded, and the Sons moved ahead of him, shouting orders. Slowly, people began rising up from their seats, unsure of what to do. Something between a mass and a line formed by the Sons, near the bar, as people milled about and whispered under their breath. Being examined by a Goddessguard under the direction of a Holy Crucible was certainly not something that happened every day; many even looked excited. Why not? They had nothing to fear, after all. Most people probably didn’t. Only the daemons in the room had to worry their heads.

Knot stood slowly.
At least it isn’t the Crucible herself
, he thought, though why that really mattered he couldn’t say. He didn’t believe what Astrid had said earlier—nobody could see into another’s soul. But the fact that just a Goddessguard was doing the interviewing made him feel better.

Knot put his hand on Astrid’s shoulder. “Might as well get it over with. Then we can make our move tonight.”

The girl looked up at him, and Knot thought he saw a brief flicker of fear. He wasn’t sure, but as quickly as it came, it went again. She nodded.

They approached the other customers near the bar. Some were obviously scared. Perhaps they were thieves or adulterers. He couldn’t imagine the Crucible wasting time on such things. Seemed the Denomination already knew who these “heretics” were, anyway—as did the whole damn city, for that matter. The rest of the crowd looked bored, impatient, even excited, but everyone was compliant. There were twenty-seven in all, not counting the Sons and the Goddessguard, who sat at a table questioning each person in turn.

It took them the better part of an hour to get near the front of the queue. The Goddessguard was thorough. If they intended to question the entire city this way, the Crucible would be here for weeks.

They were only a few places from the front of the queue when there was a sudden crash, and several Sons hauled a whimpering middle-aged woman towards the door. Then she screamed and all eyes were on her.

“You can’t do this!” she shouted, her eyes wild and frantic. “I’m a faithful Cantic. I go to chapel, I’ve taught children Cantic doctrine. I haven’t done anything wrong!”

The Goddessguard stood. “Canta’s will has been revealed,” he said, his voice hard. “The Crucible will determine your rightness before our Goddess.”

The screams continued as the Sons dragged the woman out, the door closing behind them with a slam. The sound rang in the room for a moment, its resonance fading into silence.

Then the whispering began. Quiet at first, then frantic, demanding an explanation for what had just happened. The Goddessguard ignored the whispers and continued the interviews. The Sons stared with hard eyes, fingering swords and halberds.

People were feeding on each other’s fears, Knot could feel it. The whispering grew louder. Then someone shouted, demanding to know what was going on. Knot kept his eye on the Goddessguard, who looked up. The man stood, his voice ringing out above the cacophony.

“Silence!” he shouted. “There will be peace in this hall, in Canta’s name. There
will
be peace!”

It was too late, Knot could see that. The Goddessguard had reacted too late. The crowd had worked itself into a frenzy.

Perhaps this is our chance
, he thought.
Now is the time to escape.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of movement. A young couple, a man and a woman, pushed between him and Astrid, knocking Astrid to the ground and shoving their way towards the door guarded by a pair of Sons.

They never made it.

The Sons guarding the door moved fast, for grunt-level men. They were well trained. The first guard drew his sword smoothly and in one motion cut off the woman’s arm as she reached towards the door. He then brought the sword around to plunge through her chest. The other guard, who’d been leaning on a long halberd, swung the butt of his weapon into the man’s feet, knocking him to the ground. He lifted his weapon high and slammed the blade into the man’s throat. It didn’t sever the head, only slicing through about half of the flesh, but the man was dead in an instant. Blood leaked across the floorboards.

There was a scream and Knot looked down at Astrid, but she wasn’t beside him. He tensed. Then he realized that the crowd was not looking at the bodies, despite the slaughter that had just taken place. They were looking at the floor, in the patch of sunlight near where Knot stood.

Between the square of sunlight from the window and the wall, a small form cowered. Tendrils of smoke rose from her body as she scrambled into the shadows.

Astrid
.

“Shit,” Knot said.

“Vampire!” roared the Goddessguard.

Knot rushed towards the girl. He hadn’t brought his staff, but a small dagger was concealed beneath his clothing. It would have to do until he could find something more suitable. The room was filled with the shouts of terror from the crowd and the barked orders from the Goddessguard to the Sons.

Knot swore again, under his breath.

“You all right?” he asked, reaching Astrid’s crouched form. She didn’t look severely wounded, but the skin of the hand she reached out to him was grayish and discolored, still smoking. Knot sighed in relief. Could have been worse.