Page 20 of Skalterra By Nightmare (The Skalterra Duology #1)

My fight against Galahad followed me into Keel Watch Harbor, leaving me winded and fatigued as I went about my usual shop duties. Liam had brought me an iced coffee with my bagel, but the caffeine mostly made my heart race. The cool touch of the plastic cup at least soothed the scars in the palm of my hand. They’d been burning all morning, and I wondered if Galahad was making them sting on purpose as a reminder that he was the one in charge.

To add injury to insult, Galahad gave little-to-no warning when he called me to Skalterra the next few nights, each time earlier than the evening before. I was never ready, and woke up to new bruises each morning after hitting furniture on my way to the floor of my bedroom.

Tamora continued her experiments, but Galahad was getting better at stemming the flow of Skal between us. After the third night of giving her nothing more than my usual arm spikes, Tamora grew bored of my fights with Titus. Instead, Galahad put me to work sitting outside Fana’s cabin while she slept. Those nights, long and boring as they were sitting on the wooden floor all alone, were almost worse than being pitted against Titus.

A week into this routine, I was left to close shop alone after Gams left for a game night with her friends at the library. Jonquil meowed for dinner up the apartment stairs as I locked the shop door.

“I get it,”

I called up at her, taking the steps two at a time.

“You don't need to yell at me. There’s no way your food is that good.”

“It’s time, Nightmare,”

a voice growled at me from the shadows at the back of my head, and I froze on the darkened staircase. Galahad was summoning me.

“Not yet, I’m not—”

The wooden steps underfoot rushed upwards to welcome me to Skalterra.

I fell upright, landing again on the deck of Tamora’s boat. The water was wide and slow here, looking more like a lake than a river, and the sun, hanging low over forested hills, lit it in hues of orange and red. The steam pouring from boat’s smokestacks bled with the sunset and filled the air with a smell akin to that of warm dirt after a sudden rain.

I leaned against the railing of the deck, trying to orient myself in the late-day warmth. A village lay ahead, floating atop the river as a network of boardwalks and wooden cabanas.

Whatever relief I might’ve felt at finally seeing civilization after a week of dark landscapes was eclipsed by the fury that rose in my chest.

“Galahad!”

I yelled for the old man and spun around, still leaning against the railing for support.

“Calm yourself, Nightmare,”

Galahad said. He stood with the others, all laden with packs, Skal bottles, and travel cloaks.

“You couldn’t give me one more minute to get into bed?”

I snarled.

“I told you to be ready.”

Galahad adjusted Fana’s pack, refusing to look at me. I pulled on the well of Skal that connected us to get his attention, drawing his magick into myself before he pulled back. He glared at me from over his grizzled beard.

“I was on the stairs!”

I shouted.

“My grandmother is going to come home from Game Night and call an ambulance when she finds me!”

“Ambulance,”

Orla repeated in a whisper. She stood without a cloak, rubbing her arms to stave off the cool breeze that rolled over the river and cut the summer warmth.

“We’re disembarking,”

Ferrin explained in an even tone.

“I’m sorry you were in an inconvenient place, but—”

“Inconvenient?”

I seethed.

“My bedroom floor is inconvenient. The staircase is dangerous. What if I fell? What if my neck is broken?”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing your grandmother will find you.”

Ferrin bit back a smile, but his sense of humor was less than appreciated.

“I’m going to wake up in a hospital.”

Ferrin shrugged at Galahad.

“Could you send her back really quick? Just long enough to let her get to bed?”

“And waste all the Skal I just used to bring her here?”

Galahad stalked to the bow of the boat to watch our approach towards the village docks.

“She’ll be fine on the stairs.”

I whirled to face Ferrin, but all he could offer me was a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.

“We do need you,”

he insisted.

“This next part of our journey will be tricky.”

He held my gaze, but ginger curls flying in the breeze caught my eye over his shoulder. Tamora watched us from the upper deck, leaning against the railing as her Nightmare deckhands hurried around her to prepare for docking.

“I can’t sleep on the stairs,”

I said through gritted teeth. Ferrin nodded with his hand still on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, but you’ll have to worry about it in the morning.”

“Why? Her?”

I pointed at Tamora, and she smiled down at me.

“I thought she was letting us go when we got to Riverstead.”

Ferrin leaned in close to hiss in my ear.

“The Baron doesn’t let anyone go.”

He patted my shoulder and went to meet Galahad at the bow of the boat.

I rubbed at my neck, knowing I was going to wake up with my worst knot yet. Maybe stretching the joint here would make my real body back in Keldori a little more limber and comfortable on the staircase.

“I’m sorry about the stairs,”

Orla said.

“And the ambulance. Whatever an ambulance is.”

Tiernan snorted next to her, and Fana pushed back her hood to look up at him.

“What?”

she asked.

He shook his head, and the gold beads in his twisted locks clicked together as he did.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t mind him,”

I snapped.

“He’s suffering from indigestion because he doesn’t know if he should be angry I’m here or happy my real body’s neck might be broken.”

Tiernan shrugged back at Fana.

“I guess the Nightmare isn’t a complete idiot after all.”

His gold-flecked eyes flitted to meet mine, and his scowl deepened.

Orla hooked my elbow in hers and dragged me away from Tiernan before I could take my frustration out on him. Tamora’s Nightmares had descended on our deck, and now they ran between us in leather trousers and tunics, carrying ropes.

“I’m sorry Galahad pulled you over too quickly,”

Orla said.

“but I’m glad you’re here. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you all week.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to catch up with each other when Tamora insists on using me as her bodyguard’s punching bag.”

Orla frowned and cast a backwards glance at the Baron.

“Speaking of catching up, the Grimguard couldn’t have followed us here, right? Do you think we’re in the clear?”

“I’d be surprised if he’s even conscious yet. And honestly, I’m a little jealous. I could go for a good coma. I’m starting to forget what sleeping feels like.”

“Don’t worry,”

Orla assured me.

“once we make it to the Second Sentinel, you’ll get to relax! We both will, and I’ll get to show you my home.”

“Will you?”

As much as I hated being linked to Galahad and getting left unconscious on the stairs, the thought of saying goodbye to Orla and the rest of Skalterra made me pause.

“Galahad won’t need me anymore.”

“But you’re still our friend.”

Orla frowned at the Nightmares lowering a gangplank to the dock. Dockworkers yelled to each other below, running lines and rope along the planks.

“Galahad would bring you back if you wanted to return.”

“Orla, I’m your friend, not Galahad’s. It costs him magick to bring me here.”

Orla forced a grin and hitched her knapsack up higher on her shoulder.

“Then I’ll have him teach me how to bring you here myself, Just-Wren. It’s an advanced skill, but I’d figure it out to see you again.”

“Let’s focus on getting home first.”

Ferrin came up behind her and brushed dust off his vest.

“Welcome to Riverstead, the southernmost port of the Breachriver Prefecture.”

“Officially putting you and your friends outside of my jurisdiction.”

Tamora’s voice rang out over the deck as she approached. Tiernan drew Fana closer to his side as she passed, but the Baron didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she grinned at me and held a slender hand out to mine.

“I hope you enjoyed your escort. I know I did.”

Ferrin gave me an encouraging nod, and I accepted her handshake. Her monocle made me feel like she could see straight through my skin and to the Skal that swirled inside me.

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure, Baron,”

Galahad grunted, already mounting the gangplank to disembark.

“But alas. It wasn’t.”

“Careful,”

Tamora sang.

“We may be outside of the Grand Barony, but you’re still on my boat, Lyrian.”

Galahad made a show of shuffling down the gangplank and landing heavy on the dock.

“Tiernan and Fana, you next.”

Ferrin beckoned them forward.

“Forgive Galahad, Baron. He’s difficult to impress. We thank you for your generosity.”

Tamora shook her curls back over her shoulders.

“I prefer his honesty to whatever this awkward groveling is. Take care of pretty little Blue here. It’d be a shame for such a strange Nightmare to go to waste.”

She winked at me, turned around, and stalked back towards the cabin.

Ferrin mumbled something under his breath and shepherded Orla and me towards the gangplank with a protective arm around our shoulders.

Lamps of swirling white Skal cast the wooden sides of docks and cabanas in shifting, dull light that fought to stave off the rapidly falling night. The entire town of Riverstead sat atop the water, comprised of wooden huts and stalls built into a messy network of docks. The evening was still young, and fishermen and dockworkers bustled around us, carrying cages of crawdads, fishing equipment, and nets of river fish.

I held a hand over my nose as a woman carrying a basket full of trout passed by, bringing with her a cloud of nauseating fish smell.

“The Baron gave us enough Skal to last a few days if we don’t run into any trouble,”

Ferrin said, gathering us under the swirling light of a lamp.

“We’ll still need to refill in Tulyr, and there are a few more supplies we need to stock up on before we leave Riverstead. Orla, you’ll come with me to find a new cloak. Tiernan, go with Galahad to find food. Just-Wren, you’re in charge of Fana. I want her as far from the Baron as quickly as possible, so get her to the forest beyond the riverbank, and wait for us there.”

“The forest?”

I chewed on my lip.

“But I’m Fana’s Riftkeeper,”

Tiernan protested.

“She should stay with me.”

“She’ll be plenty safe with Wren.”

Ferrin watched the Baron’s boat over our shoulders. Tamora’s Nightmares passed back and forth over the gangplank, restocking the boat for the return journey to Vanderfall, but the boat’s continued presence darkened Ferrin’s brow under his coiffed hair.

“Orla, let’s move quickly.”

Orla waved goodbye to me, and Tiernan glowered as Galahad led him towards bright storefronts that sent light spilling across the river’s surface.

“Alrighty!”

I slapped my hands together and spun to face Fana. Despite having been dragged back to Skalterra night after night to keep the kid safe, my interactions with the Divine Sovereign had been few and far between. “Fana.”

She blinked up at me with round brown eyes.

“Yes?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

Forget Divine Sovereigns, I hadn’t much interacted with children in general. I didn’t know what they liked in my own realm, let alone Skalterra.

“I was just saying your name.”

“Alrighty.”

Her lips twitched into a smile under her yellow hood as she repeated the word.

“Just-Wren.”

I pulled my own woolen hood up to hide my blue hair and put a tentative arm around her thin shoulders to guide her forward. The last remnants of day still hung in the sky. The setting sun outlined the distant mountains in hues of red, and rolling hills to the west peeked out at us from between the roofs of cabanas. Cicadas chirped at each other in the forest, loud enough that we could hear them all the way out on the water.

Fana’s hood swiveled back and forth as she watched children running barefoot down the planks and leaping over the gaps between walkways. A couple of women pulling cages from the depths of the river chided them as they harvested their crawdads.

“Can we do that?”

Fana asked. One of the children landed on the edge of a walkway, teetered for a moment, and then fell backwards into the water to the laughter and cheers of his friends.

“Ferrin said to get to the forest as quickly as possible,”

I said, though I would’ve loved the excuse to avoid the woods.

“It won’t take long for the others to finish their errands, and if we aren’t at the riverbank—”

Fana’s shoulders fell, and she turned away from the kids to stomp ahead of me.

“I don’t know why I thought you’d be more fun than Tiernan.”

“I’m way more fun than Tiernan!”

I quickened my step to catch up to her, and she looked up to raise a dubious eyebrow.

“Your hair color is more exciting, but that’s about it. Tiernan says ‘fun’ is a luxury.”

“And when’s the last time he let you have fun?”

She thought for a moment.

“It was fun in the steamcart when you shocked his nose with your little lightning.”

“So I am more fun than Tiernan.”

I studied the serious set of Fana’s brow below the hem of her hood and wondered what sort of upbringing she must’ve had. She was the last Divine Sovereign, so her entire family was dead. Even if she’d had a happy childhood, no amount of fun could heal losing so much.

Fana’s eyes darted to a pastry stand manned by an old woman, and her steps faltered.

“Did you want something, lovely?”

the old woman sang, and Fana turned to me with big, begging eyes.

“I don’t have money,”

I hissed back at her.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her cloak and pulled out a few silver coins.

“Tiernan does.”

She smirked.

“That’s Tiernan’s money?”

“Yes.”

I held her gaze for a moment, knowing Ferrin wouldn’t want us to stop, but feeling bad for the kid in front of me. Her and I were the only two in the group who hadn’t volunteered for any of this.

“Fine. And since Tiernan’s paying, I want something too.”

Fana’s face split into a grin, and her robes billowed around her as she skipped towards the pastry woman. She pulled her hood back to better survey the selection of sweets at the woman’s counter, and I watched, satisfied at having secured my place as more fun than Tiernan.

“Do you know you’re being followed?”

That voice, smug and with the slightest, lilting rasp, made the Skal in my veins feel like ice. I spun around, looking for the man I knew it belonged to, but Ciarán stayed hidden.

“Fana!”

I warned. Fana looked up from the counter, a pastry already in her mouth.

“None of that, Blue. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Ciarán’s dark laugh sounded from every direction, and I put a hand against my head. Fana returned her attention to the sweets, and I stumbled back until I found the edge of the dock.

“I’m far, far away, though I do have questions for you. Namely, what the hell is growing on my chest? It looks like mold.”

“You’re in my head,”

I hissed, horrible realization dawning over me. Ciarán, the Grimguard hunting us, had somehow gained access to my consciousness. “How?”

“How?”

Ciarán repeated.

“Have your friends not warned you? Never tell your full name to a nocturmancer if you don’t want to give them access to your mind.”

Dread churned my stomach. They had warned me, but not until after I’d given the Grimguard my name as he lay injured on Orla’s bed.

“So, Wren Warrender, prospective Von Leer Viking, back to my question,”

Ciarán continued.

“Do you know you’re being followed?”