Duskfall (53 page)

We each do what we must. Best of luck to you, Nazaniin.
Then her presence in his head was gone.

* * *

Astrid leapt from the building, sending up rubble and mud and snow as she landed on the cobbled street. She weaved to the left, then leapt up again, flipping backwards and landing against a wall, claws digging into stone.

The man was toying with her. She knew that much. He probably could have killed her by now, or at least injured her, but he was only keeping her on the defensive. Astrid’s mind raced, looking for a trap, but nothing stood out. All she could do was avoid the man’s blur of psimantic attacks, dodging and leaping.

Knot and the blond woman still dueled by the fountain. Astrid couldn’t see Lian or Winter, but she
did
see the brown-haired woman who had been fighting Lian stalking closer to Knot.

Astrid rolled to the side, only to leap into the air once more. She latched onto a building with her claws, leveraging herself up to the roof. Brown Hair was sneaking behind Knot, now. Astrid ran along the rooftop, weapons crashing into the stone behind her. Then she leapt into the air, sailing over the blond woman and Knot. She landed directly on Brown Hair, tackling her to the ground. They rolled, the woman ending up on top. Just as Astrid intended.

Brown Hair’s eyes widened as one of the psimantically wielded swords pierced her lower back.

It pierced Astrid as well, but for her it was only pain. For the woman on top of her, it was deadly.

Astrid pushed the woman away, wincing as the blade slid from her own belly. She staggered to her feet, only to see the blond woman disarm Knot.

Astrid cursed. She must have distracted Knot when she landed behind him. Knot stared at the woman, her sword at his throat. Astrid looked behind her. The weapons that had been swarming around Astrid had clattered to the ground. The other man, Nash, stood calmly, his arms folded.

Astrid turned back to Knot, tensing her legs to pounce. The woman still held her sword to Knot’s throat.

“I’ll save you for last,” the woman whispered. Then, she turned to face Astrid. “Slaying a vampire and a Nazaniin assassin in one night will make me famous.” She walked towards Astrid. Behind her, Knot stood still, his arms at his side, eyes wide.

Why aren’t you moving, idiot?
Astrid wondered.

The woman’s eyes flickered past Astrid towards Nash. “I do not have to slay two Nazaniin tonight,” the woman said. “Come back to me, Nash. You can still be on the winning side.”

“I’ll settle for the right one,” the man said.

Then, quite suddenly, Astrid couldn’t move.

Pain scoured her body, her bones, neither burning nor piercing but a pain of essence, of all the power and fury of existence. She stood rigid, mouth wide open, saliva dripping from her fangs. A small, extended croaking sound reverberated in her throat.

The woman had
nightsbane
.

* * *

Kali frowned, holding the herb-laced blade before her, watching the daemon suffer. She did not like to watch suffering. But if it weren’t for the antics of this little bitch they would have apprehended Lathe long ago. It was almost a pleasure to see the girl burn with pain. Almost. At least it distracted Kali from the pain she felt herself.

Behind her, Lathe struggled against the mindtrap she had woven around him. Kali would have liked to kill the psimancer at his best. Killing the man would have to do.

She sent a small psionic burst into Lathe’s mind, just to deter him from even thinking about breaking the trap.

The burst failed. Kali looked back at Lathe in surprise. Her mindtrap was still in place, but her burst had sailed straight through him, as if…

As if there were nothing there at all.

Kali narrowed her eyes. This was unexpected.

“Lathe, use your abilities!” Nash shouted. “It’s your only chance against her!”

Kali frowned at Nash, tightening the mindtrap she had already woven around him.

“I’m sorry it has come to this,” Kali said, and she meant it.

“Winter is the Harbinger,” Nash said. “You know it, Kali. Accept it. Do what you know is right.”

Kali swallowed. She had her orders. Her orders were what was right.

“I’m sorry, Nash. You’ve lost your purpose.”

“I haven’t,” Nash said, his voice tired. “I’ve just found a better one.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kali saw a flash of movement. The staff Lathe had wielded suddenly spun into the air, speeding towards her.

Kali concentrated a massive psionic burst directly into Nash’s mind. His head snapped violently backwards, his eyes rolling up into his skull. Her former lover’s body collapsed into the streaks of red in the muddy snow. His mind had exploded in his skull; nothing was left of him.

Kali looked back at the vampire, painfully rigid, upright. The nightsbane that soaked her sword would immobilize the beast as long as Kali stayed within a certain radius. Kali frowned, thrusting the blade into the vampire’s tiny chest. The girl released one choked, cut-off scream, and then fell to the ground twitching.

Kali turned to face Lathe. Her mind searched for others, and found Lian, and then Winter, both unconscious. Kali reached into her own mental reserves, preparing another psionic burst. She had planned on making it quick for them.

But that was before they had forced her to kill Nash. Now, Kali felt a growing rage. She would make their pain last.

* * *

Knot watched in horror as Astrid squirmed and twitched on the ground, strange gagging sounds escaping her mouth. The girl vomited a stream of blood, reddening the churned slush around her. Knot was still trapped, as if his limbs were cut off from his mind. He couldn’t move. But there was something else there, the faintest remnant of a memory, almost tangible, like the smallest tear in fabric.

Knot heard a scream. First Lian, then Winter, their voices rising together in pained unison. Both had been unconscious; Knot had watched them fall. This woman was doing something to them. Knot felt a pressure inside his own skull, but whatever it was it didn’t seem to penetrate. The woman frowned at him.

Whatever she was doing, he needed to stop her.

Knot concentrated on the tear in his mind, prying at it. Nothing happened. He tore at the hole, throwing his whole existence at the thing.

“Who are you?” Knot asked. He needed to buy time. If he could only break through…

The woman laughed, with a sadness that reminded Knot of a lonely, listless song. “Of course. After all this time, you do not know. My name is Kali.”

Then Knot stopped. He had been going about it all wrong. In the past year, everything he had found talent in had come to him instinctively. Tying knots, fishing, fighting. It had all just happened. Perhaps the same was true with this. If he could relax, perhaps his mind would remember.

In that moment, something changed. Whatever the woman had been doing to hold him back was gone.

Reaching into the bundle strapped to his back, Knot drew out the sword, the grip both familiar and strange in his hand. His shoulder flared as he reached back, but the pain lessened as he rushed towards the woman. Kali.

She reacted quickly, drawing a dagger from her belt, but her sword was still embedded in Astrid’s chest. Knot didn’t wait for her to retrieve the weapon.

He rushed in, parrying Kali’s first blow, slamming his elbow into her nose, and then burying his sword up to its hilt in her chest. Warm blood leaked slowly onto his hand.

Kali looked up at him in surprise. Her eyes were wide, her mouth wider, opening and closing like a fish. She wheezed blood and bile. Her gaze darted around frantically.

Faster than Knot could have expected, the woman’s dagger whipped up towards his throat. Faster still, Knot ducked, slipping his sword out of the woman’s chest. He backed away as Kali fell to her knees.

“Lathe,” Kali rasped, “I’m s-sorry… I was only… following…”

“My name,” Knot said, raising his sword, “is Knot.”

Then he lunged forward, thrusting his blade through Kali’s neck. Her eyes died, and she slumped backwards. Knot withdrew the sword as she slipped into the bloody snow.

His blade hanging limply at his side, Knot turned to his friends.

Their screams had stopped, but none of them stood up. Knot didn’t know whether they were dead or unconscious, and before he could find out, the distant sound of hoof beats and footsteps grew closer. A full contingent of Reapers, accompanied by robed Ceno, entered the square.

“Take him alive,” someone ordered, “and anyone else still breathing.”

Knot’s sword fell from nerveless fingers. Their plan had failed.

His last thoughts were of Winter before he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, and then blackness.

C
INZIA PEEKED AROUND THE
partition they had set up in their room. Kovac stood by the door, arms folded behind his back. He wore full plate armor, though he still looked bare without his Goddessguard tabard and insignia. His longsword and dagger were sheathed on either side of his waist.

“Kovac, please sit. You need to rest, I feel as if you have been standing around all day.”

“I’ll stand a little longer yet, my lady.”

They had just returned from supper in the common room. Cinzia had eaten stew—again. She wondered if these places ever served anything else. She had splurged tonight, though, and taken some mulled wine as well. The drink had tasted of cinnamon, and left a warm, pleasant feeling in her stomach.

“I do not believe we have anything to fear,” Jane said. “You should rest, Kovac. You need it.” Cinzia looked at her sister gratefully, glad she was pitching in.

“I’ll rest when you do. Until then, I’ll do my duty.”

Cinzia shook her head. She had known there would be no arguing with him.

“Do you think they made it into the palace?” Cinzia said to no one in particular. Knot and the others had been on her mind since they left. The distraction had made translation difficult; the words and symbols seemed more blurry than usual.

Jane pursed her lips. “They are in Canta’s hands, now. How they will fare tonight, I do not know. But our paths will cross again. At least with some of them.”

Cinzia shook her head. “You cannot know that, Jane. Why say such things?”

Jane smiled sadly at Cinzia. “Believe me or not, but I know what I know.”

Cinzia looked under the bed, where they had hidden the Codex of Elwene behind their packs. “A little help?”

They pulled out the book together and placed it on the bed. Then, Jane turned to Cinzia. “Tell me about your revelation,” she blurted. “What happened in Navone?”

Cinzia rolled her eyes. “You want to talk about it
now
?”

“I… I haven’t known what to say. But I have realized that does not matter.” Jane’s blond hair was unkempt, her blue eyes reflecting the candlelight.

Cinzia shook her head. She was not happy that Jane was bringing it up now, after so long, but at the same time she felt relief. She
needed
to talk about it.

“I do not know what happened,” Cinzia said. “It was not me that spoke, that much I am sure of. It felt as if… as if I were outside of myself, watching the whole thing.” She was conscious of Kovac listening on the other side of the partition. Apparently Jane trusted him as much as Cinzia did. That was good. Kovac was a man worthy of their trust. “I know it sounds strange. It may seem that I believe my own revelation while doubting yours, which is… unfair, to say the least. But the truth is, I have no idea what happened in Navone.”

Jane sighed in relief. “There is something I need to tell you, Cinzia. About what happened.” She grasped Cinzia’s hand. “Perhaps we should sit,” she said, leading Cinzia to the edge of the bed. “I had a dream last night. Canta appeared to me.”

Cinzia sat up straight. “What?”

“I had a dream in which Canta appeared to me. Which is strange for a few reasons,” Jane said, cocking her head to the side. “She has never appeared to me in a dream. It has always been face to face.”

Cinzia raised an eyebrow. She might have argued such an insane stipulation if she had not been used to such things from Jane by now.

“And there is something else.” Jane’s eyes were determined. “I have not spoken with the Goddess since Navone. Since the day I turned myself in to the Holy Crucible.”

“What does that mean? What are you saying?”

“In my dream, She explained why She had not contacted me. Someone—some
thing
—has been blocking Her. Since that night in Navone. Something has been deflecting Her contact with the Sfaera.”

Cinzia shook her head. “Impossible. Canta is all-powerful. Nothing could stop Her from connecting to the Sfaera if She willed it.”

“That is what we have been taught. But think about what we are
translating
. Think about the prophecies. The night is coming. Dusk is already upon us. Things are changing, and I do not think even Canta has the power to stop them.”

“Even if what you say is true,” Cinzia said, “what does that mean? That my vision, whatever that was, was not from Canta? That makes no sense. If not from Canta, then whom?”

“I do not know,” Jane whispered. Her hand tightened on Cinzia’s. “But it was
not
Canta. She told me that much. It was not Her, Cinzia.”

Cinzia’s mind raced. She had certainly experienced
something
in Navone, and her ability to translate a language she didn’t know was inexplicable. But, if she believed Jane…

No
.

“You are wrong,” Cinzia heard herself say. She stood up. “What you are saying… Jane, it is all wrong. Your visions are not real. Your dream is not
real
. None of this is real, it
cannot
be.”

Cinzia walked around the partition, storming past Kovac.

“Cinzia!” Jane called after her. “Where are you going?”

“Priestess—” Kovac said, but Cinzia did not stay to hear him protest. She opened the door, and walked out into the hallway, her sister’s words weighing in her stomach like stone.

Instead of going down to the common room, Cinzia found herself going up. The inn was three stories tall, one of the taller buildings in that part of the city, and Cinzia remembered that it did not have the domed roof so popular in Izet. She needed space to breathe. She needed fresh air.