Page 26 of Skalterra By Nightmare (The Skalterra Duology #1)

Iseult stepped from the ledge and dropped into the middle of our camp. Her leg of Skalmagick took the brunt of her landing, and her armor clinked as she straightened up to look around at us.

Tiernan procured a golden sword and leveled it at her throat, but Iseult grabbed the blade with her hand, and the weapon dissolved.

“Stop wasting Skal, Tiernan. I told you, she’s a Skalbreaker. She’ll destroy anything you make.”

Galahad pushed Tiernan back and approached his granddaughter.

“I’m here with the Divine Sovereign, Iseult. You need to give us passage.”

“The law is the law,”

Iseult said.

“Anyone who leaves Tulyr isn’t welcome back. That includes you, Grandfather.”

“A Grimguard is after us. Let us refuel at the Sanctum and—”

“You led the Grimguards here?”

The light of the rising moons bounced off the curve of her armor and caught in her silver hair. She seemed young, but she radiated ethereal power. Even Ferrin looked intimidated by her, keeping an arm out to shield Fana.

“We think we lost him, but—”

“Then the Grimguard isn’t after you?”

Iseult lunged towards me, and I tried to stumble away, but she caught me by my wrist. The Skal-made blood in my veins buzzed at her touch.

“Which is it, Grandfather? Tell me before I break your pretty Nightmare.”

I fought to break free from her grip, trying to channel power into my muscles, but it was as if her touch had formed an invisible barrier around me, making it impossible to pull any extra magick away from Galahad. The air crackled with electricity that hummed through my every particle, and while it wasn’t painful, I could feel it pressing against me in every direction, ready to ignite.

“Galahad?”

I asked, frozen to the spot. If Iseult made me burst into a million, glowing bits like she had Tiernan’s weapons, would it count as another death in Skalterra?

“Leave her be,”

Galahad said. Iseult’s eyes raked over my palm, and she yanked on my arm to show it off to the others.

“You gave her the curse?”

she asked.

“Curse?”

Ferrin’s eyes narrowed at Galahad.

“What curse?”

“The Curse of Tulyr.”

Iseult’s lips twisted.

“To help preserve Tulyr’s location, our nocturmancers would put the curse on their Nightmares. If they die in Skalterra, they die in Keldori, and our secrets die with them.”

“What?”

Orla pushed forward and pried my hand away from Iseult’s. The buzzing in my blood quieted, and the pressure that had pushed down on me a moment ago let up. Orla ran her fingers over the scars on my skin.

“It can’t be true. Just-Wren has already died. There can’t be a curse.”

I pulled my hand away, rubbing my wrist. Orla stared at me with wide green eyes, silently begging me to tell her I was okay.

“She kept ashing herself when we first brought her here.”

Galahad shrugged.

“So I set a limit on how many times she can die, and here she is, better behaved than ever.”

“You should have told us,”

Ferrin growled.

“She’s just a kid, Galahad!”

“As is the Sovereign.”

Galahad pointed at Fana.

Tiernan caught my eye from behind Galahad. His glowering expression was difficult to read, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“How many lives does she have left?”

he asked, still looking at me.

I held up my hand for the rest to see the scars.

“Two more,”

I said.

“I started with five.”

Iseult inhaled sharply and reached for my hand again. I drew it away before she could touch me, and she frowned at her grandfather.

“She’s lucid,” she said.

“Well, yes,”

Galahad grunted.

“I wasn’t going to curse a mindless drone.”

“Grandfather, that’s dangerous! You know I can’t let her in. You all need to leave.”

“It’s not like last time,”

Galahad insisted.

“Last time?”

I asked, but they both ignored me.

“The others won’t allow it.”

Iseult shook her head.

“I’m sorry to put you in this position,”

Galahad said.

“but we really are just passing through for Skal. Once we have what we need, I promise, you’ll never see us again.”

“Tulyr’s laws—”

Iseult started.

“Is your allegiance to a dead city really going to stop you from helping us protect the Divine Sovereign?”

Galahad cut her off.

“In another life, you would’ve been a Riftkeeper too.”

“The others—”

“They will listen to you.”

Galahad stepped forward and set a gnarled hand on Iseult’s metal shoulder plate.

“Let us in, Iseult.”

“But the Nightmare—”

She glanced at me, and I didn’t understand the fear that flitted across her tan features.

“She’s safe. More importantly, she’s useful. She killed a rotsbane.”

Iseult’s chest plate clinked as she heaved a mighty sigh.

“In and out. Get your Skal, and then you’re leaving.”

“Of course.”

Galahad patted her shoulder again, then motioned for the rest of us to get ready to go. He threw his pack over his shoulder and smirked.

“Wouldn’t want you to have to kill us.”

Iseult blushed in the rising moonlight, but kept her gaze down as the others hurried to grab their packs.

Iseult led the way, easy to follow with her illuminated leg. Its soft light rebounded off her metal armor, and I felt like I was following a star to the top of the plateau. Rugged terrain, dotted with short, gnarled trees and clusters of glowing white flowers, gave way to even ground and tiered inclines.

“It’s paved,”

I realized, looking at the cobblestone path hiding beneath the vines growing over the ground. Another cliff loomed ahead, but its face was split by a set of stairs carved into the stone.

“Is that a staircase?”

Orla walked beside me. She held my scarred hand in hers, running her fingers absentmindedly over the marks left by Galahad.

“I don’t get why he didn’t tell us about the curse,”

she mumbled.

“Something about being afraid you’d put your own life at risk if you knew mine was in danger.”

I shrugged.

“Which is fair. We both know you would.”

“But if we knew, Tiernan might not have blown you up,” she said.

I stared at the space between Tiernan’s shoulders where he sauntered ahead of us. His cloak had become so dirty in the last weeks that it looked closer to brown than yellow.

“We both know he would have,” I said.

Orla pressed her lips together. She kept her eyes forward but seemed to be looking at someone other than Tiernan. I followed her gaze to Iseult where she ascended the stairs set in the cliff.

“Orla?”

I asked. Orla dropped my hand to run her fingers through her short hair.

“What is it?”

“Galahad’s granddaughter.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know if I want to be her or kiss her, you know?”

“I don’t know.”

I laughed.

“She wanted to kill us. She’s also one quarter Galahad, so that puts me off from wanting either of those things.”

“That’s a good point. She might end up looking like him when she’s old.”

Orla screwed her face up. We took the first few steps of the carved stairs together. A tree grew out of the rock ahead, its twisted trunk arching over the steps, and vines and moss cascaded down the cliffside in an overgrown mess.

“In Keldori, is that even a thing? Girls kissing girls?”

“Definitely.”

I nodded sagely.

“You?”

“I don’t do much kissing of anyone.”

“Me neither.”

Orla frowned. Up ahead, Tiernan’s head turned to the side, and I wondered if he could hear our conversation.

“Not a lot of time lately. Or options. No offense.”

“You’re not my type either.”

I smiled to myself.

“Besides, I’m gone after we make it to the Second Sentinel.”

“Don’t say that.”

Orla sighed and buried her fingers in her short hair.

“I told you, I’ll learn Nocturmancy. If Galahad won’t bring you back, I will.”

She tripped when a stone step crumbled beneath her boots, and I caught her by the arm. Orla was wonderful and kind, but if Nocturmancy was as difficult a skill as Galahad described it to be, I didn’t dare count on her bringing me back to Skalterra anytime soon.

“What about Iseult’s Skalbreaking trick?”

I asked.

“How hard is that to learn?”

“Impossible,”

Orla said.

“You have to be born with the ability. It’s pretty rare too. I had no idea Galahad was related to one of them.”

I nodded, relieved that it wasn’t a common ability.

The final steps of the stairway felt like ascending into heaven as the cliffside slipped away to make room for the expansive starlit sky above. Orla craned her neck back to look at the wash of stars, and I guided her up the last few steps to keep her from accidentally stepping over the edge.

“I don’t get it,”

I said, looking over the empty plateau.

“I thought there was supposed to be a city here.”

The others stood in a line, silhouetted against the stars and the distant mountain range under a crumbling stone arch. Orla and I hurried to join them, and Orla sighed at the sight ahead of us of the grand stairway descending into a crater that stretched clear to the other end of the plateau.

Starlight lit the edges of stone ruins that sat nestled in the protection of the crater. Some of the buildings had been reduced to nothing more than crumbling walls overgrown with grass and vines. Others stood taller, and one near the center still had twin spires that stood as high as the lip of the crater. Flying buttresses arched off the exterior of the edifice, but many of them were crumbling or missing, giving the impression of a broken rib cage sitting at the city’s heart.

The light of Iseult’s leg caught the grooves of Galahad’s scowl.

“The once great city of Tulyr,”

he said.

“Skalterra’s birthplace and where the first family of Divine Sovereigns died.”

“Welcome home.”

Iseult stepped forward first, but Galahad shoved past his granddaughter to take the lead down into the crater.

“Stay close,”

Ferrin warned me.

“There aren’t many people left in Tulyr, but they don’t like strangers and they especially don’t like Nightmares.”

“Really? But Iseult seemed so friendly and welcoming.”

I bit at the inside of my cheek.

“I’m serious, Wren. It’s an honor to get to see Tulyr, but a dangerous one.”

He frowned at me in a way that I didn’t quite understand. He’d given Orla the same worried look before, but I wasn’t sure why he’d waste it on me.

“You should have told me.”

“I thought you knew.”

I rubbed at the cursed scars on my palm.

“I figured Galahad would’ve told at least you.”

“You don’t really think so poorly of me that you thought that was something I’d be okay with, do you?”

My cheeks burned with shame, and I looked down at the fallen city in an effort to avoid Ferrin. I tensed when he surprised me by putting an arm around my shoulders.

“You’re our friend, Just-Wren, and it isn’t fair that you are in this position. I promise not to let Galahad off easy for this.”

“His granddaughter hates him and tried to turn him away,”

Tiernan said behind us.

“He’s having a rough night already.”

I turned back to glare at him where he marched somberly at Fana’s side.

“Oh, would you look who suddenly grew compassion,”

I snipped.

“After the Grimguards killed Fana’s family, Galahad rushed to Cape Fireld to offer his services in keeping her safe.”

Tiernan’s eyes flitted to meet mine.

“He knew he wouldn’t be allowed back, and he still left to fulfill his duty as a Riftkeeper. Take it from me, there is nothing easy about leaving home.”

As admonishing as his words were, they didn’t hold any of his usual vitriol. Ferrin must’ve been able to sense my embarrassment, because he patted my shoulder where his hand rested.

“It’s alright,”

he murmured.

“Galahad’s not had it easy, it’s true, but that doesn’t excuse him sentencing you to possible death.”

“If Tulyr is isolated, how did he hear about Fana’s family?”

I stared at the dirty back of Galahad’s duster ahead of us. He and Iseult kept a cold distance between them, despite being family.

“He said it was raiders,”

Ferrin said darkly.

“Criminals emboldened by the death of a Divine family. They searched out Tulyr, looking for the Skalspring. The attack was brutal and unexpected. Galahad’s only child died, and his only grandchild lost her leg as well as both her parents.”

I was suddenly overcome with the need to give Gams a giant hug.

“Oh,”

I said simply, suppressing a chill.

“Galahad questioned the surviving raiders for information on what was happening outside of Tulyr. When he heard about the Firelds, he left the next day.”

“After Iseult had just lost her whole family?”

I ducked out from under Ferrin’s comforting arm.

“Knowing he wouldn’t be allowed back?”

“Galahad is Galahad. He loves his family, but nothing is more important to him than keeping the Rift.”

Ferrin shrugged.

“And Iseult let him leave?”

I asked. If it had been Gams, I would’ve chased after her in a heartbeat.

“She didn’t go with him?”

“She’d just lost her leg. That sort of injury takes a long time to heal,”

Ferrin said.

“And Galahad didn’t want to wait.”

I suddenly didn’t blame Iseult for threatening to kill us when she’d first found our camp. She’d been abandoned.

The farther down the stairs we got, the higher the ruins rose around us. A flash of light greeted us on the bottom step, and a man in metal armor, wielding a sword of silver, stepped out from behind a crumbling wall.

“Lady Iseult, what—”

His sword dissipated, and he pushed a metal visor up his helmet to stare at us with wide eyes over a neat beard.

“They’re with the Divine Sovereign, Urian. Cape Fireld has officially fallen.”

Iseult stepped ahead of Galahad to greet the knight.

“They’re here for Skal, and then they’re leaving. That’s it.”

“If they were followed—”

“We weren’t.”

Galahad shoved passed the knight, who blinked after him.

“You weren’t supposed to come back.”

“I’m not back, just passing through.”

Galahad stopped to look at us where we still stood at the base of the grand stairway.

“The Sanctum is this way. You want Skal or not?”

He continued to hobble forward, paying the knight’s protests no mind.

“Should I wake the others?”

Urian asked. Iseult shook her head, sending waves down her silver hair.

“They’ll be gone soon. Help me take them to the Sanctum.”

Urian nodded, but the tight, worried frown he gave us said he wasn’t fully sure about this plan.

“It’s just, if the others find out—”

“Then they’ll answer to me, Urian.”

“Yes, Lady Iseult.”

Galahad, usually the slowest of the group, limped ahead. His silver head was bowed, and his duster billowed out behind him. He was purposefully keeping his head down, as if to avoid looking at the ruins around him.

“How long has it been since he’s been here?”

I kept my voice low so he wouldn’t hear.

“Four years.”

Iseult’s face was stony, but the facade cracked just a little bit as her mouth turned down in a frown.

“Does he talk about me?”

“Oh, well—”

Ferrin searched for words, but the panic in his eyes told me Iseult didn’t come up much between the two men.

“He isn’t really—”

“Yes,”

Fana said.

“All the time.”

Tiernan and Ferrin both looked at Fana in surprise, but she looked back at Iseult.

“My grandfather talked about me to the Divine Sovereign?”

Iseult frowned at Fana.

“I watched my family die.”

Fana sounded too matter-of-fact for a ten-year-old child.

“It was hard to sleep, so he told me about his granddaughter who also watched her family die.”

“That’s sweet,”

Iseult said, though her tone implied otherwise.

“He was all I had, and he left me and turned me into a bedtime story.”

“You were all he had too.”

Fana shrugged. Iseult stopped in her tracks, but Fana looked to Ferrin.

“I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat here?”

Ferrin found some dried meat in his pack for Fana, and we continued our march through the ghost city in silence. The same glowing flowers that had dotted the mountainside peeked through cracks in old buildings and the walkway. I counted them as we went.

Near the middle of the crater, Iseult stopped. Galahad continued to forge ahead, but she held out a hand to the rest of us.

“We’re nearing the Sanctum,”

she said.

“Urian, stay here and watch the Sovereign and her guards.”

“We don’t get to see the Sanctum?”

Orla’s disappointment was apparent in her tone.

“Lyrians only.”

Iseult’s grunted response reminded me too much of Galahad.

“And the Nightmare. You don’t leave my sight.”

I gave Ferrin a panicked look, but he nodded.

“You’ll be okay. Go help Galahad.”

Urian gave his new wards a nervous look, but he stood aside to let Iseult guide me after Galahad through the maze of ruins. The spired building loomed up ahead. The towers were dark against the stars, and ivy climbed up the front face of the edifice. It looked like it could’ve been a forgotten cathedral in Europe, and I wondered if Mom had seen similar buildings on her tour. Hopefully those cathedrals had been in better shape, but there was something hauntingly beautiful about this corpse of a basilica.

Galahad hobbled up the front steps of the Sanctum and pushed hanging lichen out of the way to step through the wide doorway.

I held back a gasp. I’d expected something more typical of a cathedral. Namely, a floor.

A ravine stretched from the entrance of the Sanctum all the way to the far wall. Skal pooled in its depths, sending soft blue light up the pillars and buttresses that supported the moss-laden walls of the canyon. Above us, stars twinkled down from where a ceiling should’ve been.

“Stairs are this way.”

Galahad limped around the Sanctum’s perimeter. He passed through shafts of moonlight that poured in through circular holes in the stone walls where I was sure there had once been stained glass.

Blue light lit the stairwell through crumbling spaces in the rock wall, and I caught peeks of the Skalspring through the stones as we descended.

The piles of rubble did little to detract from the beauty of the space. The light of the Skal lit the farthest recesses of the alcoves that surrounded the pool, and the moss and lichen that grew across the walls, pillars, and floor all emitted their own soft glow.

A stone statue in knight’s armor had been carved from the rock bed that stood at the head of the spring. Her palms were turned out, and Skal poured from both her hands to add to the glowing basin with a slippery hiss.

“Congrats,”

Galahad growled, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking to me.

“You’re the first Nightmare in over fifty years to enter the Sanctum of Tulyr.”

He limped to the pool’s edge and then stepped out onto the flat rocks that spotted the Skal like stepping stones. Iseult paced along the chamber’s edge, watching her grandfather navigate the stones until he’d reached the one nearest the statue of the woman.

“Is the Skal better over there?” I asked.

“Lyrians believe that the Skal collected nearest Lyria is more potent.”

Iseult looked up at the statue of the woman.

“Is she one of the Three Magicians?”

“Yes. The Tulyrs descended from her. They were the most powerful of the Divine families. The other families, the Quills and the Firelds, both sought shelter in the mountains or on the coast, but the Tulyrs? They stayed right here at Skalterra’s birthplace.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not what it used to be,”

Iseult said.

“but it’s the best I’ve ever seen it.”

She leaned against a pillar with her arms crossed to watch Galahad fill his bottles. A tiny frown pulled at her face, and silver hair fell over her shoulder.

“What did it used to look like?” I asked.

“Not like a pile of rubble.”

She snorted and looked up at the stars through the missing ceiling.

“My mother told me this entire chamber used to be full of Skal, but she wouldn’t know either. It was sucked dry before she was born.”

“Sucked dry?”

I repeated. There was more Skal in the chamber than I could imagine being used in a lifetime. If there had been even more, I wasn’t sure what could’ve used up all that magick.

“At the Fall of Tulyr.”

Iseult looked at me with a cocked eyebrow.

“Did Grandfather not tell you?”

“Galahad doesn’t tell me much. I’m more of a tool than a teammate to him.”

Iseult sighed and pushed away from her pillar.

“That sounds like Grandfather. He’s always been practical. Maybe he has to be, though, to make up for what happened at the Fall.”

She strode along the pathway along the perimeter of the chamber, and I followed.

“Do you know why the Seven Provinces outlawed lucid Nightmares?”

I wasn’t expecting the question and fumbled for an answer.

“We’re dangerous,”

I said.

“We can do things normal Nightmares can’t, and we’re harder to control.”

“And you know too much.”

“About Skalterra.”

I nodded in confirmation.

“No.”

Iseult stopped, and her gray eyes bore into me.

“About Keldori.”

I stared at Iseult, unsure of what she meant, but feeling dread creep up my chest all the same.

“I don’t understand,”

I admitted.

“Have you told them about your home?”

She shifted her gaze to Galahad. He paused between filling each bottle to fold his hands together and bow his head to the statue.

“No,”

I said automatically, but that wasn’t entirely true.

“I mean, a little, but not too much.”

“You shouldn’t tell them anything. A lot of Skalterrans assume Keldori hasn’t progressed since losing all its Magicians, but based off the rumors I’ve heard, Keldori has far exceeded Skalterra in terms of technology. It sounds comfortable.”

“I guess, but—”

“You shouldn’t tell me about Keldori either, Nightmare. Your home is a tempting prize. It was for Balin, at least.”

“Balin?” I asked.

“Grandfather’s brother. They were the Riftkeepers in charge of keeping the Tulyrs alive. Grandfather was happy protecting the Divine Sovereigns, and so was Balin for a time, until his favorite lucid Nightmare told him all about Keldori. Balin became bitter, and he sought to free the Frozen God, subdue him, and take both Skalterra and Keldori for himself.”

“The Baron thought she could do the same.”

I rolled my eyes.

“The Baron is an idiot. The Frozen God is trapped in a glacier that separates Keldori from Skalterra, and it took three of the most powerful Magicians to imprison him there. If freed, there are very few who could overpower him, but Balin? He might’ve stood a chance.”

“But he failed, obviously,”

I said.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here."

“Balin was a skilled nocturmancer. One night, he raised an army of Nightmares and took control of the city centrum. But Grandfather was powerful too. He made his own Nightmares, and the ensuing battle ended with the Tulyrs dead and half the city destroyed.”

“And the other half?” I asked.

Iseult responded with a wry smile.

“Balin figured if he had a never-ending supply of Skal, he could channel it into his Nightmares, and they’d become unstoppable. So he came here.”

I looked around the chamber, trying to imagine it without the lichen that hung from the rafters, or the pillars and walls that had collapsed into the glowing pool.

“Then what stopped him?”

I asked.

“He killed the Tulyrs, but he didn’t go on to free the Frozen God. What went wrong?”

“Nightmares are powerful.”

Iseult surveyed me with steely gray eyes.

“You know that. But feed a Nightmare too much, and it’ll only become hungrier. Give it too much Skal, and no amount of Skal will ever be enough.”

I thought back to my exercise with Galahad on Tamora’s boat deck. I remembered channeling his magick away from him, and I remembered the elated hunger that had felt like I was being turned inside-out before Galahad had brought me to heel.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.

“And Balin’s Nightmares?” I asked.

“You’ve seen them. They grew in size until their skin stretched and ripped, revealing the monster underneath.”

“They— what?”

My skin itched, as if there was a monster inside me too, begging to be let out. I grabbed my arms, trying to hold my pieces together, to keep the beast caged.

“That was the night Balin brought rotsbane to Skalterra.”

The chamber, so peaceful and beautiful a moment ago, now felt cursed. Blood screamed in my ears, or maybe it was the sound of a monster hiding inside my bones, screaming to be fed. To be let out.

“Rotsbane can’t be people,”

I stammered.

“Because I killed a rotsbane and I didn’t— I don’t want that. I can’t—”

“Don’t feel bad.”

Iseult was watching Galahad again.

“The human it used to be died fifty years ago. What you did was a mercy, and it had probably eaten Nightmares just like you.”

“Galahad’s Nightmares, the night Tulyr fell…”

I trailed off.

“Devoured,”

Iseult confirmed.

“Consciousnesses and all.”

“No.”

I looked at Galahad. He’d had no way to know he’d consigned all those people to death when he’d brought them to Skalterra to fight for him. I wanted to believe he felt bad about it, but if he did, would he have continued to bring Nightmares to Skalterra? Would he have consigned me to fight and possibly die for him?

“The Nightmares weren’t enough to sate the rotsbane,”

Iseult said.

“Nothing ever is. They tore the city apart looking for more Skal, eventually coming here.”

Iseult ran a hand over a stone pillar. Her fingers caught on gouge marks that marred its otherwise smooth surface.

I glanced around the chamber again. The lichen, moss, and years of wear worked to cover the scars left by the rotsbane half a century ago, but the marks were hard to miss now that I knew they were there. They were scratched into the walls and the floor, and I tried to imagine the space full of enough rotsbane to deal that sort of damage.

“What about Balin?”

I asked.

“Galahad’s brother. He was here, wasn’t he?”

“He was right there.”

Galahad’s gravelly voice sounded behind us, and I spun around to see him pointing at the rock he’d perched on to fill his bottles. My cheeks heated in embarrassment at having been caught talking about him, but he kept his eyes on the stone.

“Galahad, I’m sorry, I—”

“My brother forsook his duty to protect the Tulyr family and brought destruction and death to the greatest city in Skalterra. A cathedral full of rotsbane, and he was still the biggest monster here that night. I tried to save him, but they got to him first.”

His gray eyes flickered to me, and I felt like he was staring through my exterior to the beast he knew waited beneath my skin.

This Wren, this blue-haired thing, was supposed to be the better version of me. So why did I suddenly want to crawl out of myself?

Galahad turned away, and the fresh bottles of Skal on his belt clinked together as he did.

“Lady Iseult!”

A wail echoed through the Sanctum, and I jerked my head up to see an outline silhouetted against the night sky. Urian, the knight from before, leaned over the ravine.

“On the southern cliffs, there’s—”

He cut off in a cry of pain as orange light burst behind him.