Page 30 of Skalterra By Nightmare (The Skalterra Duology #1)

Ferrin had been lecturing Galahad for several minutes in the bow of our longboat while Orla held my hand in her lap to inspect my scars by the light of her Skal bottles. The vessel rocked with the gentle river rapids, and Tiernan and Iseult held us steady with oars where they sat on either side of Fana.

“She’s just a kid!”

Ferrin gesticulated in my direction.

“She will die!”

“This boat is full of children, and any one of them might die,”

Galahad growled.

“The Nightmare isn’t special. We do what we have to do to protect the Sovereign.”

Fana stared at me from her bench with saucer-like eyes.

“I don’t want anyone to die,”

she whispered.

“No one is going to die,”

Orla assured her.

“Don’t coddle her.”

Tiernan sat on the bench next to Fana with his eyes trained on the dark waters ahead. He dipped his oar into the rapids to pull us to the right.

My stomach churned with the movement, but hopefully the fast river would help speed us away from Ciarán. I dropped my eyes to the wooden hull at my feet. He was probably still in my head. Watching. Listening. Using me to get close.

“You never should have put the curse on her to begin with!”

Ferrin seethed, still arguing with Galahad.

“I made her manageable, and she’s helped get us this far.”

I looked up to see Galahad glaring at me from the bow of the boat. He would absolutely kill me if he knew Ciarán could see inside my head. I dropped my eyes back to my feet. If Ciarán was in my head tonight, he’d kept quiet so far.

“How did you die last night, then?”

Orla asked, finally relinquishing my hand back to me.

“There were too many Nightmares,”

I lied.

“I’m not sure which of them got me. When it happened, it happened quick.”

I dared to raise my eyes back to Galahad. Ciarán had insisted Galahad wouldn’t have been able to tell I’d been stolen by a rival nocturmancer, but Galahad’s narrowed eyes and tight scowl did little to reassure me.

“I should’ve stayed back so I could fight alongside you.”

Orla squeezed my hand.

“Wren, I’m sorry.”

“You only have one life as well, my niece,”

Ferrin sighed. The boat wobbled as he fell heavy into the bench at the bow.

“You at least volunteered for this. Just-Wren was forced here. By us.”

“It’s a bit late for that,”

Galahad grunted.

“Miss Warrender has made it this far. She need only survive a little longer.”

Ciarán stayed silent in my head as we traveled. I tried to keep my eyes down, vaguely registering trees and cliffs on either bank, but doing my best not to focus on any landmarks that might offer hints to Ciarán. When we finally pulled ashore on a rocky bank, I was able to catch a moment alone as I walked into waist high grasses under the guise of keeping guard while the others set up camp.

“I don’t know if you’re there,”

I said into the darkness.

“but if you are, I want you to know, the next time I see you, I will kill you.”

For a moment, the only response was the wind whispering through the grass, but then a silky purr rasped at the back of my head.

“Is that a promise, Blue?”

I closed my eyes. I wouldn’t let him see where we were.

“Yes.”

“Is that what the funny hand gesture meant? The one you made after you jumped.”

I opened my eyes to glare at the toes of my boots.

“The middle finger? Yes. It was absolutely a promise to kill you.”

“I see. I thought it might have been some sort of Keldorian curse you put on me, but this is considerably more manageable and less frightening. I’ll see you soon, Blue.”

His voice melted into the sound of whispering grasses, and I stood a moment alone in the dark before Orla called my name and I retreated back to camp.

The next few days passed in a blur of more interview prep, selling ceramic chickens, and magical nighttime landscapes that I did my best to not look at. We continued to travel by boat for the next two nights, and the first waterside village marked our passage from the Wisting Wilds into the Royal Shogunate.

The buildings were reminiscent of those I’d seen in the Japan travel guide Mom had bought a few years prior before canceling a trip she was supposed to take with writer friends. She’d told me she was worried about the flight, but I’d always suspected she’d been more worried about leaving me behind.

Most of the homes along the river were simple lodgings, made of wood and tatami and illuminated by stone lanterns that lit the underside of red maple leaves. The fancier buildings sported multiple floors with pointed rooftops and sloping eaves.

On the third night of traveling by river, Ferrin sold the boat to a fisherman, and we continued farther north on foot. The passing evenings remained peaceful and unhindered by Grimguards. The mountains ahead loomed higher with every mile, and the scars on my hand stopped worrying me.

Ciarán stayed silent in my head, even when I addressed him directly. I would’ve liked to think something had happened to him, but I could still feel the magick tether between us, even if I refused to draw any Skal from it.

In Keel Watch Harbor, meanwhile, Liam seemed to grow more agitated the closer we crept towards Riley’s memorial. His usual smile became more strained everyday. Gams gave him several days off, but he still brought us bagels every morning and would return to spend my lunch break answering my questions about Von Leer and helping me prepare for my next interview.

He at least laughed when I finally told him how horribly the first one had gone. I’d started to miss the sound of that laugh, so I took to looking for other things that made him smile.

The biggest guffaw came when I stuck a paper mustache and monocle to Jonquil one morning to surprise Liam when he brought breakfast. I thought the cat looked too much like Tamora with the monocle on, but Liam was so delighted that he picked up an extra shift right there, even if it was just to take pictures of Jonquil on his phone between customers.

He stuck around for dinner with me and Gams, but didn’t say much. Luckily, Gams had plenty to say about how she was certain Sarah had been cheating at their game nights but had no way to prove it. When Gams left for another night of trying to catch Sarah hiding cards up her sleeves, Liam made himself comfy on the couch.

“I’m headed to bed,”

I said.

“Are you okay?”

He stood up and pulled me into his chest. I hugged him back, since this embrace was more for his benefit than mine, and his fingers contracted against the folds of my shirt.

“He was supposed to be back by now,”

he whispered into my hair.

“I know.”

“He’s gonna lose it when he sees Jonquil in a monocle.”

“He will.”

I waited for him to be the first to let go before I slid away, but he slipped my hands into his when I did. He forced a smile.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Do what?”

“Pretend that you’re happy. It’s okay to be sad.”

His smile faltered.

“But being sad is admitting he’s gone.”

“He is gone. For now. Even if it’s temporary, you’re allowed to be sad until he’s back.”

He let the smile fall.

“Thanks.”

He gave my hand a squeeze, his fingers brushing against the scars on my palm, and he fell back onto the couch.

“I’m happy you’re my friend.”

“I’m happy I’m your friend too. Keep the nightmares away again?”

“Of course, Wren.”

This new smile was small and sad, but despite the weight it carried, it at least looked genuine.

Steam swirled past my head, giving me a disorienting welcome back to Skalterra. I stumbled on a water-slicked stone floor that shined in the dull light of paper lanterns. Crickets chirped somewhere out of sight, hiding in the maple trees and shrubs that lined the courtyard where I stood.

The wooden building behind me emitted a cozy orange and red glow from behind papered windows, and wooden posts supported the slanted roof of an eave.

“Galahad?”

I spun around, looking for Galahad, Ferrin, and the others.

“Down here, Nightmare.”

I stepped back, and the swirling steam cleared enough for me to see the two pools of water that spanned the small courtyard. Orla, Iseult, and Fana sat in the water to my left while Ferrin, Galahad, and Tiernan soaked on my right. Despite the cloudy appearance of the water, I could tell instantly that something was missing from each of my friends.

“Oh my god!”

I slapped my hand over my eyes.

“Are none of you wearing clothes?”

“Do you bathe in your clothes in Keldori?”

Orla asked. I peeked at her through my fingers. Her short hair stuck to her forehead, so she must’ve dunked her head under the steaming water.

“No?”

“Then why would we be wearing clothes?”

I pressed my lips together and looked up at the night sky.

“We don’t do group bath time, either,”

I said.

“At least, not where I’m from.”

“Then don’t look.”

A splash to my right accompanied Tiernan’s voice, and heat burned in my cheeks. I raised a hand to protect my peripheral vision as I listened to Tiernan’s wet feet slap against stone floor.

“Done already?”

Ferrin asked.

“I relaxed. I washed. I need to be prepared just in case,”

Tiernan said.

“That’s what Just-Wren’s for,”

Fana giggled up at me. Her curly hair had frizzed considerably in the steam, and her slim shoulders peeked out at me just above the water level.

Tiernan grunted, and the sound of a sliding door behind me told me it was safe to lower my hand.

“We’re in the foothills of the mountains, so we’ll be passing into the Skalterran Highlands soon.”

Ferrin raised his arms out of the water to set his hands behind his head, and he settled back into the stone wall of the water basin.

“It won’t be long until we reach the Second Sentinel.”

“And you got Galahad to agree to a spa day?” I asked.

“There’s a blizzard in our way.”

Galahad’s silver hair was gathered into a bun at the top of his head, but his braided beard floated on the water in front of him.

“We’ll wait for it to pass and continue tomorrow.”

“A blizzard this time of year?”

“The closer we get to the Frozen God’s glacier, the colder it’s going to get,”

Ferrin explained.

The door behind me opened again, and a fully-clothed Tiernan took up post next to me.

“You can watch them.”

I pointed at the men and shifted closer to the pool with Orla, Iseult, and Fana.

“I’ll stand over here.”

“Now that Tiernan is on guard, you should join us!”

Orla shifted over in her pool to make room between her and Iseult. The water may have been foggy and opaque, but I averted my gaze anyway.

“No,”

Galahad growled.

“The Nightmare is working.”

“By the Three Magicians, Galahad,”

Orla groaned.

“Have you ever lightened up even once or would it actually kill you?”

“It’s okay,”

I insisted.

“I don’t really do the naked-with-friends thing.”

Orla glared at Galahad through the steam.

“What about just your feet?”

she asked.

Galahad didn’t protest, so I wiggled out of leather boots and wool socks that dissolved into dust as soon as I took them off. I sank to the stone floor to dip my feet into the water, and a shudder ran down my spine at the water’s warm touch.

Orla dipped her mouth beneath the water to blow bubbles at a giggling Fana, but Iseult, with her long silver hair pulled into a floppy bun, frowned at the swirling bath with a blank stare.

“Iseult?”

I asked in a low voice.

She shook her head and ran her fingertips along the top of the water.

“Sorry,”

she whispered.

“I’m not used to all this yet.”

She swallowed hard and looked around the courtyard.

“Right,”

I sighed. Her decision to leave her home had been so abrupt. I wondered if she was already regretting it.

“This is the first time you’ve been outside of Tulyr.”

“First and only, since there’s no going back.”

She let her hand sink back under the water.

“It’s beautiful, but all I can think about is home and if it’s even still there.”

As strange and ethereal as Iseult was, she was suddenly the most relatable member of the group. Skalterra was new to her too.

“I think Tulyr will be okay.”

Ciarán had called off his Nightmares as soon as I’d yielded to him, but I couldn’t tell her that without also explaining how I’d actually died that night.

“By the time I went down, your friends nearly had it under control.”

She raised her gray eyes from the water to me, and gave a soft smile. I tried to return it but was sure it looked more like a grimace.

“Thank you, Wren,”

she said.

“You are kind. I didn’t know Nightmares could be that way.”

“Probably because Nightmares aren’t supposed to be kind.”

I extended my leg so that my toes stuck out of the water. This conversation was nice, but I’d prefer it if all parties were clothed.

“We’re supposed to be whatever our handler wants us to be.”

“That’s funny,”

Galahad interjected behind us.

“I don’t recall ever wanting you to be a nuisance.”

“If I’m such a nuisance, why do you keep bringing me back here?”

Galahad’s responding grunt was accompanied by splashing. I fixed my eyes on my toes where they stuck out of the water. I didn’t want to see any of my Skalterran counterparts naked, but Galahad was at the bottom of the list.

“Leaving home is hard,”

Orla said on my other side. She peered around my knees to get a better look at Galahad’s granddaughter.

“I’d never done it either until a couple years ago when my uncle and I left to join the other Riftkeepers in Cape Fireld.”

“But you get to return.”

Iseult sighed and slipped under the steaming water so that her face was submerged up to her nose.

“I don’t.”

Fana stopped paddling her tiny laps between the walls of the bath to look at Iseult.

“And my whole family is dead. But Orla says there are other kids at the Second Sentinel, and even though I miss home, there weren’t other kids there. Plus, Ferrin says I’ll be safe and won’t have to run anymore. So sometimes it’s a good thing to leave home.”

Iseult straightened up, letting her face come out of the water.

“You’re very wise for someone so young,”

she conceded.

“Thank you, Divine Sovereign.”

“It’s Fana.”

Fana took in a mouthful of bath water and then sprayed it up into the air. She smacked her lips and wrinkled her nose.

“That was disgusting.”

“Maybe it’s time to get out of the water,”

Orla laughed.

“How about we catch crickets before bed? Just-Wren, could you grab our towels?”

“And my crutch,”

Iseult added.

I pulled my legs out of the water. The heat had tinged the skin of my shins a deep pink, and the air, though warm with steam, felt cool against my legs. Galahad had disappeared into the inn, but I still kept my eyes down as I collected the folded towels and wooden crutch from the deck that led into the building.

Orla and Fana, wrapped in their towels, hurried into the inn while I gave Iseult a hand out of the bath. Tiernan, standing watch on the deck, politely lowered his gaze as I handed Iseult her crutch and held the towel up to give her privacy.

“Thank you.”

She wrapped herself in the towel and leaned into her crutch. It was weird to see her without her leg of silver Skal, but it made sense she would be preserving the magick, even if we were so close to the Second Sentinel.

“For being kind, even though I wasn’t when we first met.”

“Don’t worry about it. Tiernan blew me up when he first met me.”

I said it loud enough for Tiernan to hear, and he rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have if I knew Galahad had cursed you, and that’s not my fault,”

he said. Fana and Orla came back out of the inn with bare feet and borrowed silk robes. They ran to the far end of the courtyard to begin their search for crickets.

“And it worked for the most part. It injured the Grimguard enough to keep him off our heels until Tulyr.”

I caught Ferrin’s eye. He was the only one still bathing, and he rested with his chest against the edge of the pool and his arms folded on the tile of the courtyard. He’d so far kept our secret misadventure with the Grimguard in Vanderfall a secret.

Iseult passed into the inn, and Tiernan watched her go before turning back to glance at Fana and Orla where they played. The skin beneath his eyes was dark with fatigue, and he leaned against a wooden post that supported the deck eave.

“Go sleep if you like,”

I offered.

“I can watch them. I killed a rotsbane, remember? Fana is safe.”

Tiernan clenched his jaw, still watching his ward.

“She’s definitely safe.”

Ferrin splashed in the bath behind me, and I closed my eyes at the sound of his approaching feet on the wet tile.

“I would’ve grabbed your towel,”

I mumbled. After a moment, I dared to open my eyes. Tiernan was gone, having taken me up on my offer, and Ferrin had pulled trousers on.

He messed with a tunic and its inside-out sleeves, leaving his torso bare. Water from the bath rolled over deep ridges of scar tissue that spiraled out from what must have been a years-old injury on his abdomen. The muscles there were contorted and misplaced, as if whatever blade had caused the damage had been twisted, torquing the viscera of Ferrin’s flank into a gruesome spiral.

I looked away too late. Ferrin must’ve seen the subtle drop of my jaw and the widening of my eyes, because he sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“It’s an old keepsake from a Grimguard,”

he explained.

“Daithi?”

I asked, remembering Ferrin’s unconscious body slumped against the wall when we’d encountered Daithi on my first night in Skalterra.

“No.”

He leaned against the wooden post and watched the steam from the baths curl up into the sky.

“It was the night of my biggest failure as a Riftkeeper. The night the House of Quill fell, and the night my sister died.”

“Orla’s mother?”

Orla stood with Fana on the opposite side of the baths. They crouched in their borrowed silk robes to peer into the bushes. Orla pulled back from the foliage with her hands cupped over something. Fana squealed in delight when a cricket leapt from between Orla’s fingers and disappeared back into the plants.

“Her name was Bryony, and she looked just like my niece.”

Ferrin watched Orla now too, with a hand over the deformed skin of his abdomen.

“She was a Riftkeeper like me, and after we got word that Fana’s family had been murdered, Bryony took the final Quill, a man named Oren, to a secret outpost. She was worried that whoever had killed the Firelds would come after him next.”

“And she was right?”

Ferrin pulled his tunic over his head and took a moment to smooth out the wrinkles where they fell over his scar. His hair, normally so coiffed, now drooped in the steam over a furrowed brow.

“I caught word that Grimguards were seen in the area, and I rushed to warn my sister and Oren. The Grimguards arrived just before I did.”

He took a steadying breath.

“It at least looked like Bryony died quickly. Oren was still fighting. I tried to save him, but a Grimguard skewered me clean through and left me to bleed out while they killed Oren next.”

“Ferrin,”

I sighed. I knew Grimguards had killed Orla’s mother, but I had no idea the story was so awful.

“I’m sorry.”

“The pain was excruciating, but do you know what haunts me more?”

Ferrin’s green eyes met mine in the light of the lantern at our free, and the look on his face made me unsure that I wanted the answer.

“The sound of Oren gagging on his own blood while he, a grown man, cried out for his dead mother to save him.”

Orla and Fana laughed across the courtyard as they stumbled after another cricket together. The clenched muscle in Ferrin’s jaw relaxed, and a soft smile crept across his face as he watched his niece.

“Then why did you leave the Grimguard alive in Vanderfall after you found him in Orla’s room? After everything his people had done?”

The smile faltered, but he kept his eyes on Orla.

“Several reasons, Just-Wren, the simplest of which is that you would not have allowed it, and I wish it could be just that simple.”

Something darker replaced Ferrin’s smile, something I hadn’t seen him wear before.

“The Grimguards thought they’d killed me. But they hadn’t, and despite my injuries, I was able to catch them off guard and gain the upper hand. I killed them slowly and deliberately for what they’d done. As horrible as the sound of Oren’s dying breaths had been, I relished the Grimguards’ screams. I made them beg for mercy, then I made them beg to be put to death. I made them watch each other die. But as much joy as I took in their suffering and as much joy as I continue to take in the memory of it, I don’t like who I became that night. When I saw the young Grimguard helpless in Orla’s bed, I wanted to become that person again, but I do not want my niece to see me like that.”

I stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away from Ferrin and unable to come up with a suitable response. He finally turned away from Orla to give me another sad smile.

“Don’t let them stay up too late, alright? We’re leaving as soon as that blizzard has worn itself out, and they’ll need their rest for the final bit of the journey.”

I nodded wordlessly, and Ferrin disappeared through the sliding door into the tatami-floored room.

The crickets chirped in their bushes, and Fana and Orla’s feet slapped against wet stone as they chased them, but there was another sound there too.

Heavy, choking breaths shuddered in the dark, and I had to force the muscles in my throat to loosen before I whispered into the shadows.

“Ciarán? Are you there?”

But the continued breathing in the back of my head, panicked and short, was the only response.