He nods to the Savasci hunter, a slender woman with sharp features and hard eyes. “If you can stomach a rougher ride, you ride with Caleb and Marsh.”
She swings her gaze to Caleb, and if she notices the fact that he has only one arm, you can’t see it in her face. “I fought in the melee,” she says instead. “I have seen his Divh and understand its movements. I will keep my seat.”
Fortiss nods again. “Then it’s done. Everyone, summon your Divhs.”
The five travelers turn toward the open sky, and Caleb, Nazar, and a slightly less certain Miriam curl their right fists to their chest. Shoulders straighten, and all three lift their chins and murmur the names of their Divhs. The sky pulls tight, as if the very wind holds its breath, and a moment later the three great Divhs burst into view, Wrath taking the lead. They charge toward the earth, then pull up at the last second, landing on the grassy plains with remarkable grace—except Marsh, who tumbles end over end in three cartwheels before leaping to his feet, his arms flinging out along with his wings in pure, unfettered celebration. I can practically feel Caleb’s pride radiating out, and even the Savasci woman smiles.
Fortiss steps forward and gives each of the traveling party a small, curved stone. “I have blessed these with the Light and limned them with the darkness,” he says, his voice resonating with a strange timbre. “They’ll guide you to each new house atNazar’s lead. Nazar then has a supply for any who would come to our aid. We have no time for negotiations or discussion, only action. Whoever’s here by nightfall will stand ready to fight for the Protectorate. Even if we die, we cannot fail.”
The warriors, the Eighth House guards, and Savasci all tap their fists to their heart, then they turn toward the Divhs in the wide plain. Hurriedly I scan the mountains and the distant Eighth House to see if any other ghost warriors might be riding out to meet us, but there are none.
“Syril told me a little when she wasn’t railing at me,” Tennet says quietly beside me. “The illusion magic of the skrill is strong enough to fool man or beast, she says. It has both weight and heft in the very narrow corridor of its focus, which in this case, includes the Eighth House and the plain before it. If you’re not the target of the skrill’s focus, you can’t see the illusions. You don’t see any actual snakes, either, until darkness falls. By then, of course, it’s far too late.”
“It wasn’t too late for us,” I point out.
Tennet grins at me. “Well, we’re more stubborn than most.”
We watch the five travelers reach the Divhs. Caleb and the Savasci warrior climb into their harness supervised by a thoroughly delighted Marsh, while Miriam and the Eighth House guard take their places between Wrath’s mighty wings, and Nazar tucks in behind his neck. Then Fortiss extends his arm, murmurs something else, and drops it.
The Divhs leap up into the sky, the wind snapping tight—and they’re gone.
I stagger back slightly, and Tennet’s hand shoots out to grasp my elbow. Fortiss turns, his gaze sweeping over the small company, then it rests on me and Tennet. And my elbow.
“Good, you’re up,” he says to us both. “You can fight? We can’t count on anyone returning.”
I open my mouth to speak, then shut it.
“We can fight,” Tennet answers for us both. “But what exactly are we fighting if we can’t believe what we see?”
“We’re getting to that. We have exactly twelve hours to prepare,” he says gruffly, his wave encompassing our entire thirty-odd company. “Everyone—get food, water, whatever you need, and draw close. Then Syril will tell us what we’re looking for…and explain the dangers we face.”
The small company becomes a hive of activity, and Fortiss strides toward Tennet and me, singling us out for private conversation. I pull my elbow out of Tennet’s grasp as discreetly as possible, but not discreetly enough. His snicker grates along my nerves as Fortiss skewers me with a look.
“How much do you remember of the Western Realms?” Fortiss asks. “Szonja was connected to you, but she shut that connection down hard and fast at whatever Gent saw. She was pretty disturbed.”
This immediately draws the attention of Tennet. Any hope that I harbor of him sidling off to find food is dashed as he squares himself up. His gaze goes from Fortiss’s scowl to my set jaw, and his eyes alight with interest. “What did I miss? I clearly missed something. And here I was thinking it?—”
Fortiss cuts him off, his gaze still hard on me. “Why did Gent venture into the Western Realms, even briefly? I didn’t know he could do that. You’d like to think that if traveling into enemy territory was something so easily done, we could have made that attempt any time over the last five hundred years and routed out these creatures for good. But we didn’t. Why not? What did you see?”
“You act as if I had anything to do with it,” I snap back, fully irritated. “He leapt, and my mind leapt with him. And as to what’s over there—there’s nothing, Fortiss. Absolutely nothing. It’s as barren as a graveyard, without even the bones to indicate that anything once lived there. As far as I could see—as faras Gent could see, anyway—there was nothing but gray sand. I couldn’t even see the skrill, but they would have been tough to spot from that height. I certainly didn’t see the shadow creatures like the one I saw in Rihad’s fireplace, the Sahktar. There just—was nothing.”
I decide to omit any mention of the golden spark in the midst of all that desolation. Now, thinking back, I realize it’s possible I never really saw it.
Tennet makes a face. “Why would anyone want to go there?”
“Because there’s a mighty power buried in that sand,” Fortiss says grimly. “Or at least…that’s what I’m getting from Daggar’s books. It’s hidden, but it’s there. It can be drawn upon by any who know the ancient ways. Neither Divh nor human can survive in the realm for long, because neither of us can live in total darkness, but?—”
“Except we do.” Tennet scratches his jaw, waving a negligent hand as we turn toward him. “We live in darkness every night. And just look at the way these Savasci have been living. They’ve tunneled into the mountains to protect themselves. It’sdarkinside their caves. I’ve checked. And yes, they’ve got fire, but all around that tiny island of light is darkness. We focus so much on living in the Light, maybe there’s something to be said for adding a little more of the shadow.”
“You’re speaking sacrilege,” Fortiss reminds him, and Tennet shrugs.
“I had dinner with illusions last night that told me stories that I believed. I watched them eat and drink—and I ate and drank alongside them, even though now, I couldn’t tell you a single thing I ate last night until we broke into councilor Miriam’s supplies. They put us on real, live horses that somehow didn’t balk at this abomination and rode us to our doom. Magic is also sacrilege, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful—as you yourself have already proven.”
He rocks back on his heels, dropping his hands to his belt.One day, I will master this move,I promise myself. “Besides, you can’t ignore an enemy forever, Fortiss. You either kill it or you control it, and we’re not doing either here.”
“For now, I’d be happy if you just helped us contain it.” Syril’s words interrupt us, and Tennet shifts to the right to let her into our group, even as he folds his arms over his heavy chest in clear disapproval. I’m not sure what he’s disapproving of, but there’s no denying his attitude.
Syril squares against her shoulders and confronts Fortiss. “If we don’t remove the skrill from the Eighth House and destroy them completely—chasing them back through the Unlit Pass and into the Western Realms, and sealing off the wall again—they’ll eventually adapt to life in the sun. Even now, we find more carcasses every morning, snakes trying to see how far they can survive in the sunlight. Each morning, they get a little farther before they succumb, and sometimes we find none at all.”
