Page 56 of A Spell of Bones and Madness (Nostos #2)
Chapter Forty-Five
Katrin
T he rocky shores and jagged cliffs that lay before them were nothing like the lush lands described in the history books.
No sandy beaches lined the shore, only never-ending rock rolling as far as the eye could see.
Rough waters surrounded that dangerous space, leaving a solitary path through choppy wake and blackness to get to the shore—that is, if their small skiff could make it in unharmed.
Leighton and Ander had lowered the skiff on the starboard side of the ship, using the pulley system to delicately place it in the water far enough out that The Nostos could anchor without risk of crashing ashore or encountering an underwater obstacle.
Aervading to the shore was out of the question—Ander had warned her of that on their journey here.
Even after they’d passed through the wards, magic still lingered around them, pulsing in the very air they breathed.
Their elemental powers would remain—nothing could prevent those except the gold-coated shackles hidden in the mountain—but aervading was a unique form of magic, a manipulation of time and place that required sacrifice and they could not risk that.
Not when they were so close to the very being that could destroy them all.
It would be difficult, navigating these uncharted waters.
Leighton drew them as much of a course as he could, from the ship all the way to the mountain’s core.
But he would remain with the ship—if their plan failed, someone would need to escape back to Skiatha, to warn Thalia and Ander’s brother about what was coming.
Crisp late autumn breeze should be caressing her skin, but the air around this wicked place was as hot and humid as the height of summer.
Sweat dripped down her neck, clinging between her thick cotton tunic and her skin beneath.
A change of clothes was in the pack slung across her, but they would not have time for that now—not as they attempted to reach the shore.
“There’s supposed to be a break in the rocks up ahead.” Ajax pointed at the weathered chart that he held in his hands threatened to be cast back out to sea by the wretched gusts of wind.
“Thank the gods,” Ember muttered under her breath.
Katrin had tried to get her sister to stay behind, but Ember refused.
“Father entrusted me with this thing, not you. It’s my duty to protect it and mine alone.
” Quite honestly, Katrin was proud of her sister—this formidable woman she had become—but it did not mean she wished her sister to walk with her to almost certain death.
The creeping feeling of disaster and destruction was ever present in the recesses of her mind, and for the first time since The Typhon, Katrin was afraid.
So if she—someone who had resolved herself to death by another’s hand long ago—was wary of landing upon this rocky coast, what must her sister be feeling?
What horrors now clouded her mind, altered her judgment?
“Hold steady! The waves are too fierce, even in the break. We are going to have to take the impact and hope it doesn’t crack the hull!
” Ander shouted over increased roars from above.
Was a storm coming? Despite the howling wind and tumultuous sea, the skies were a strangely clear blue—almost as if the depths and the heavens battled for which side of nature would hold up.
“I said hold steady!” Ander threw himself around Katrin as the small skiff splintered against the rocky coastline, rolling them onto the floorboards of the ship as he took the brunt of the force.
Katrin blinked her eyes furiously. The impact had come so fast she hadn’t had time to react.
Crimson stained her palms, the tunic she wore, pooling on the ground around her.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She tried to balance herself, to stand, but her ears still rang from the force of the blow.
Her eyes drifted next to her, to where Ander lay, his hand clutching around a thick piece of the hull that had lodged itself in the side of his gut.
Thick, hot liquid poured from the wound.
It wasn’t her own blood she was covered in then.
“I—I did this. It’ll be alright. I’ll fix it—I promise I’ll fix it,” Katrin spoke, a quiver in her voice.
“I’m fine, Starling.” His eyes met hers, deep silver pulsing in his irises. “It’s just a little splinter.”
Little! The thing was the size of her forearm—jagged and rusty at the end from the nails that had welded the pieces together.
Ander gripped the piece firmly, pulling it out in a swift motion, dropping the now sanguine object beside him on the rocks.
Katrin covered her mouth as a feral scream left her lips at the amount of blood that began to seep from his body.
But Ander simply waved his hand over the gash, wisps of fog coating the now retreating liquid, holding steady even as he moved his hand away and stepped toward her, scanning her body now for any damage that may have been done.
“I said I was fine, Starling. No need to worry your pretty head about it.”
“How—how did you do that?” She fought back tears that had begun to line the rims of her eyes.
“God of Shield, remember? It’s not healing magic, per se, but it’ll bandage the wound long enough for my body to do the trick.” Ander flashed his signature smirk, but a crinkle remained next to his eyes and his voice strained just slightly as he spoke.
“What are you two doing, standing about over here? If there are guards posted at any of the locations Leighton warned us of, we could be sighted.” Ajax’s gruff voice came from behind them. “We need to stay moving, at least until we make it to the woods. We are sitting targets on the rocks.”
For a moment, Katrin had completely forgotten about Ajax and Ember, her mind so jumbled from the impact.
“Yes—I believe the commander is correct. We should head for the tree cover as swiftly as we can. Are you two alright?” She took in the commander, who stood with his hand on his hilt, eyes scanning the shoreline and cliffs for movement.
Ember was next to him, arms crossed, one brow arched, tap, tap, tapping away with her foot .
“It appears the only one who was injured was our chivalrous prince over there.” Ajax pointed at Ander, a soft chuckle replacing his strict tone from only moments ago.
“You know, Ember’s right. You really are an insufferable ass.” Ander laughed right back. Ember simply shrugged her shoulders as if to say I told you so.
“Perhaps, but we really should move. Do you think you’ll be able to shroud the remnants of the skiff, Ander?” The splintered pile of wood shouldn’t even be called a skiff any longer.
Waving his hand over the broken pieces, that same misty glow radiated out, pouring over what bits of the boat remained before they disappeared from sight completely. “It will hold, for a while at least,” Ander said.
“And how exactly do we plan on getting off this wretched isle?” Ember still stood with a scowl, but no one replied. The answer was clear. They weren’t planning to.
Thick trees lined the forest as the two men attempted to hack through the brush and vines before them.
If Katrin thought the humid air on the shore was brutal, this was simply unbearable.
Tunic now tied tightly around her waist, she tried to not accumulate more tiny scrapes from the greenery they tread through.
Unfamiliar plant life always left an uneasy feeling in her gut.
Were they harmless? Poisonous? Sentient?
She had heard myths from the times of the Olympi where gods could shift into creatures, plant life, simple objects—and sometimes sent their spies to do the same.
The only advantage they had was the element of surprise—if they failed at even that, what chance would they have?
Sweat clung to every inch of Katrin, dripping from her elbows, seeping between her thighs.
She kicked herself for not changing on the ship.
Every crunch of her boots was met with an equal squeak of the tight leather trousers she wore.
As soon as they made it out of this gods-forsaken jungle, she would slip into her cotton pair, hopefully relieving some of the discomfort and letting her limbs breathe once more.
Ember had similarly stripped down to a simple undershirt, though she had somehow been fortunate enough to not amass the same thin cuts along her skin.
Her sister’s moves through the forest were more delicate, graceful like a waltz, whereas Katrin plowed through the vines like a brute.
Katrin knew she wouldn’t scar—not now, not unless she encountered the venom that still remained in the markings on her back.
They continued on in silence for what seemed like hours, only the low snapping of dried vines below boots and a humming of birds in the sky to keep their sanity intact.
The humid air began to disperse, replacing itself slowly with a crisper breeze, one similar to a dry summer day on Alentus.
They must have been nearing the edge of the never-ending forest.
“How long are we—” Ajax’s hand whipped out and covered Ember’s mouth, pinning her back against his chest. He held up his hand and they each froze.
Katrin’s eyes widened as she listened carefully. There was a steady marching and clanging of metal. She knew that sound all too well from her time training at the barracks—the in-sync pattern of left, right, left. The low bellow of a horn. The thrumming of sword, of shield.
Can you hide us? The way you did the ship? She reached out to Ander. Still getting used to how he slid into her thoughts—how she could hear his replies.
Not more than myself—even that would drain me quickly in a place like this. A place like this—one with such stores of energy, where the line between living and dead grew to its thinnest—much like that of the kingdom her father ruled over.