Even the Darkest Stars (Even the Darkest Stars #1)

Another creature dove toward us, veering off at the last second. Tem rang and rang the bell, almost shouting the incantation now. It was as if the sound of the bell and his voice were gaining form and weight; a glowing mist took shape around us, and spread outward. It reminded me of a cloud of fireflies.

“Spirits protect us!” Dargye cried, diving behind the yak. I didn’t blame him—I had never seen Tem work a spell like this. It was at once beautiful and terrifying.

Just beyond the range of Tem’s shield, one of the fiangul drifted slowly to the ground. There it seemed to multiply, other dark shapes coalescing from the swirl of snow and darkness.

There are too many of them. I struggled to stand, but Tem’s spell still had me pinned to the ground. I shouted at him, but he ignored me. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw set. His self-consciousness had melted away, leaving behind a person I barely recognized.

Tem lifted his hand again, and the shimmering mist darted toward the fiangul. They screamed and fell back. But they were also fanning out, forming a ring around us that tightened, tightened. How long could Tem hold them back?

“Damn you, Tem,” I cried. I flailed my arms helplessly like a beetle on its back. “Let me help!”

Suddenly, the fiangul fell silent. A shudder seemed to pass through them, and they cocked their heads, as if listening for something. And then—

A few yards from where I lay, the snow began to move. Something was rising out of it, something with an enormous belly, round head, and an absence of limbs.

A snowman.

Ten feet tall at least, with the girth of several men, the snowman was lopsided and faceless, a nightmare brought to life. It leaped on the nearest fiangul, or rather rolled, gathering snow and height as it went. Other snowmen rose up out of the drifts that surrounded us. The fiangul squawked and began their counterattack, rending the snowmen with beaks and talons. But as soon as one fell, another took its place. Feathers floated through the air.

I screamed as the snow rose up beside me, but it fell apart almost as quickly, and River stepped out from the broken mound. I stared at him, stupefied.

“That’s all right, Tem,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I can take it from here.”

“River!” I shouted. One of the fiangul had made it past both Tem’s shield and the snowmen, which stood like guards before us. It glided closer, its nightmarish eyes fixed on mine.

“No, you don’t, you overgrown vulture,” River cried, summoning another snowman and sending it careening in the creature’s direction. “Back to the wastes with you! Or rather, back to a different waste. This one’s taken.”

The snowman collided with the creature and broke apart, burying it. The wind lifted the loose flakes into the air, and all that remained of the fiangul was a few feathers.

The rest of the creatures vanished, melting back into the blizzard. The remaining snowmen glided forward a few feet before coming to a halt, lifeless.

Tem sank to the ground. The mist subsided, and the weight that had been pressing me down vanished. River was there in a heartbeat, hauling me to my feet.

“What are you doing here, Kamzin?” His eyes, to my amazement, were sparkling with laughter. “I thought surely I would have to dig you out of a snowbank a mile away, and yet here you are, exactly where you’re supposed to be. You’re full of surprises.”

“What did you do?” I demanded shakily, pushing him off. “I’ve never seen magic like that before.”

River shrugged. “I’ve picked up a few tricks during my travels. Tem!” He pulled him up as well. “Nicely done. I wish there were shamans like you in the Three Cities, rather than these useless mumblers. Speaking of which, where is Norbu?”

“They got him.” Tem looked close to collapsing again. “He was trying to protect us.”

“Fool. He should know better than to try to protect anyone,” River said. He brushed at the snow that still clung to his chuba, looking completely composed. “Dargye? Aimo?”

Two heads poked out from beneath the yak. They were red-faced and covered in snow, but seemed unharmed.

“Dyonpo, we were just—”

“Doing the sensible thing, and staying out of the way,” River said. “Good for you. All right, I’ll fetch Norbu.” With that, he strode off into the maelstrom.

Tem sagged against the yak’s flank, coughing. The beast grunted. Her back was covered with snow mixed with feathers. I brushed it off, only half-conscious of what I was doing. My hands were shaking.

“It’s a miracle she didn’t run,” I said. My voice was too high.

Tem made a vague gesture. “I placed a sleep charm on her. My spell would only protect us if we all stayed within the circle. I didn’t realize I could—”

His voice grew muffled as I wrapped him in a hug.

“Kamzin?” He struggled against my grip. “I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry.” I released him, stepping back. His face was pale—the long, straight eyebrows I had always admired were like slashes of ink against his skin. I brushed his hair back from his face and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

That brought the color back. He pushed me away, hiding behind his hair again. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Found him!” River strode back into our midst, somewhat out of breath. He was dragging something behind him—something wearing a gray chuba, with long, snow-coated hair.

I rushed to Norbu’s side. He was breathing, and did not appear hurt, though his skin was as cold as the snow falling around us. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t wake.

“Is he all right?” I said.

River gazed down at Norbu, frowning. “I think so. He didn’t get far.”

There came a distant rumble, like thunder but deeper, and the ground trembled. It came from Songri, or possibly Zerza. It was impossible to tell in that echoing valley.

“Oh.” River squinted at the mountainside. “I may have destabilized something with my spell. I always forget to be careful of that.”

“You may have what?” I shouted.

There was another ominous rumble. River lifted Norbu and tossed him over the yak like a bag of grain.

“Come on, come on,” he said, beckoning. “Keep up this time, will you? Let’s have no more dramatics until we’re clear of this forsaken place.”

“Dramatics?”

“What about the fiangul?” Tem said. “Will they follow us?”

“I doubt it. Not after being so badly beaten.” He shrugged. “Mind you, they do have terribly short memories. Kamzin?”

I shook my head. “This way!” My arm threaded firmly through Tem’s, we half stumbled, half ran through the snow, leading the others. The blizzard roared around us, and the mountains trembled, but they did not cast their snowy blankets down upon us. And then, so gradually that I didn’t notice at first, the storm grew quieter and quieter, the snow less and less, until finally it stopped altogether.





TEN


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