“He had very little regard for the history of his kingdom, which is probably why he only managed to rule for five years before the hawk queen took the throne. But the damage to the records was done before they laid him to rest. He planned well.”
“So there are no maps of Atheon or the other crypts . . . but are there lists of what might be in them? Or other clues to where they might be?” I asked.
Nismae shook her head.
Despair wormed its way in, crushing the air from my lungs. How was I ever going to find Atheon and the Fatestone now?
“Why are you looking for Atheon, anyway?” Nismae asked.
I refocused on her, trying to gather myself.
“It’s the only clue I have about someone who might be part of my family. He died a long time ago,” I said glumly. I didn’t want to tell her it had anything to do with the Fatestone—not yet. I didn’t know if I could trust her.
“I’m sorry,” Nismae said. “Family is important. It’s the only thing you can count on in this world.” She looked at Hal with love in her eyes, and he smiled back at her.
I tried to smile, too, but the expression wouldn’t quite come.
“So tell me what happened after Valenko,” Nismae said.
Hal launched into our story, with Nismae asking questions to methodically extract all the information she could. The only time she broke eye contact with him to glance at me was when he told her about how I’d chased the dragon out of the Tamers’ forest. He left out my history with Ina, perhaps because he understood it was only mine to reveal.
As for Ina, I hoped she was far, far away, still in that town to the west where the merchant’s cousin had seen her. Even though she was the one who had declared she never wanted to see me again, the longer we were apart, the less certain I was that I had any desire to face her either. I wanted to fix our history, but now more for myself than her. The guilt I carried might still be possible to ease if I could restore Amalska. But once that guilt was gone . . . I wasn’t sure what would be left.
Now that I knew Nismae couldn’t help me, all I wanted was to leave. It didn’t seem like she knew any more about the Fatestone than I did, and the longer we stayed, the more uncomfortable I became. These weren’t my people. I couldn’t see myself becoming a part of their community.
In that moment, I wondered if Hal might leave with me if I asked him to. Perhaps seeking the Fatestone alone was a foolish quest. The subtle ways he was considerate comforted me and gave me strength to go on. The ways he’d made me laugh had filled me with the only happiness I’d known since leaving Amalska. I wasn’t sure I could stand to lose him yet. But I didn’t know if his sister would let him go—or if he’d even want to leave.
As it turned out, I didn’t get a chance to ask.
CHAPTER 20
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT I WAS TALKING WITH POE AND the other medics and herbalists in the common room when the door swung open. I raised my head, startled, having become accustomed to the way the Nightswifts entered and exited only through the window as birds.
Nismae swept into the room with another person behind her. The figure wore an ivory robe that looked like a death shroud, the hood pulled up to obscure their face. Nismae called for silence in the room.
“Nightswifts, rise!” she commanded.
Everyone leaped to their feet.
“We have a new member. One who will make our betrayer bow before us. Meet my champion.” Nismae’s eyes glittered with pride.
The figure reached up to pull down the white hood of the robe, and the sleeves slid down to reveal slender wrists I would have recognized anywhere.
Ina.
I inhaled sharply, feeling as though the floor had dropped out from under me. It had been nearly a moon since I’d seen her at the top of the Tamers’ cliff. She pulled down the hood of her white robe, a slow smile blossoming on her face. But this time, it wasn’t the friendly smile that she’d favored me with in our past life together. This smile was small and dark and triumphant.
“This autumn, she will challenge the boar king for his crown. One day she will be your queen,” Nismae continued.
I waited for someone to question Nismae’s proclamations, but no one did. I could hardly breathe. How had this happened? Beneath Ina’s robe I could barely make out the gentle swell of her belly. In the time since I’d last seen her, her pregnancy had begun to show. The reminder of how she’d hurt me twisted like a knife already buried deep in my flesh. I hadn’t been ready to face her yet—not until I knew I could rewrite our past. Not until I’d found the Fatestone.
“Show them what you can do,” Nismae said, eagerness shining in her eyes.
Ina looked around the room, seeming to enjoy the way the audience hung on her next move. I shot a panicked look at Hal, hoping to silently communicate the magnitude of the situation. Then Ina opened her palms and sent columns of white-hot flame bursting up toward the ceiling.
This time, the Nightswifts reacted. They sank to their knees with wide eyes, Ina seeming to grow taller and more fierce as they bowed before her. She fed on their worship, letting the fire surround her until she blazed bright as the sun. When the last head had bowed, she drew the fire back into her palms. Twin black marks remained on the ceiling.
“Isn’t her gift extraordinary?” Nismae asked. “With a few moons of training and practice, she’ll be unstoppable.” Pride blazed in her eyes.
I felt faint. How had they met, and when had this training begun? Nismae’s knowledge honing Ina’s power would considerably even their odds against the king. I’d never given thought to what might happen if she actually won. She wasn’t bound to the gods. What would that mean for the battle and the aftermath? It couldn’t be good either way. I had to get the Fatestone and stop it—save Amalska, prevent any of this from coming to pass.
“I will be proud to serve as a champion for the people of Zumorda,” Ina said. “We deserve better than to have our villages destroyed by bandits, to be taxed into poverty, or to be turned away after years of loyal service to the king.”
The Nightswifts murmured their agreement.
“Leave us for now and return at sundown,” Nismae said. “I’ll have new assignments for you then.” She waved a hand to dismiss her people.
Squawks and screeches filled the room as the Nightswifts took their manifests and bolted for the windows, feathers flying. In mere seconds the room stood empty save for me, Ina, Nismae, and Hal, the last feathers still drifting to settle on the floor.
In the emptiness left by the Nightswifts’ departure, Ina faced me. If she was surprised to see me, it didn’t show. She pointed a graceful finger at me, then looked at Nismae. “That’s her. The one with the ability to change the future with her blood.”
“No,” I said, panic choking off any further words.
Nismae shot a look at Hal. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Hal looked at me in confusion. “I’ve never seen her do that. Asra . . . is it true?”
Nismae walked toward me slowly, like a puma stalking its prey. Her friendly demeanor was gone, replaced with calculating tranquility.
“Don’t touch me!” I leaped to my feet and backed up against the door that led back to the street-level exit, but it didn’t budge when I tugged on the handle behind me. If only I had wings like the others.
“Don’t bother trying to run,” Ina said. “Even if you refuse to write for us, we can still use your blood. Painted with it, I’ll have as much power as a god.” She still wore the same cruel smile.
“Please don’t do this,” I begged.
“I’m sorry, but there is no choice,” Nismae said. “From the moment Invasya told me about your gift, I knew your blood could be the final key to seal the king’s fate.”
Hal took a step forward. “Wait a minute, Nis. You can’t just hurt my friend. She doesn’t even know the full extent of her powers. She should be given a choice to join the Swifts if she wants—”
“I gave her that choice already,” Nismae said.