Duskfall (17 page)

Knot looked away. Maybe she was right. He didn’t want to know the thoughts she might have in her head. He didn’t think a vampire would care much about that, but Astrid seemed to.

He busied himself by gathering stones for a fire pit, to hide as much of the light as possible.

Long after the fire had been lit, Astrid returned. She set a pile of broken branches near him. They had found—stolen, really—a good wood axe in Cineste, but she obviously hadn’t needed it.

“We’re going straight through Navone?” she asked. Her expression was back to one of perpetual amusement. Her green eyes, glowing with their own light in the darkness, chilled Knot. He nodded.

“Even after what you heard the men talking about in Brynne?”

“Just a rumor,” he said, placing some of the branches on the merrily growing fire. He was beginning to wonder whether he could use the situation in Navone to his advantage. Whether he could use the Holy Crucible as a tool. Navone might be the key to escaping this monster.

“You seemed worried about it when we left Brynne.”

He shook his head. “I’ve thought it through. Even if there is a Holy Crucible coming to Navone, we may miss her. And if we don’t, what danger does she pose us, anyway? The Denomination has nothing against us.”
Except involvement with the murder of a priestess and her disciples
, he thought.

“Except being cursed by their goddess,” Astrid said, in a strange echo of his thoughts.

And there it was. That was exactly what he was betting on, if they did run into the Crucible. But he would have to be sure. He couldn’t chance the girl’s escaping and following him.

He still wanted to trust Astrid. He would have to remedy that. She wasn’t a girl, after all. She wasn’t what she appeared.

“Our story has worked this far,” he said. “As long as we don’t do anything reckless, I think we’ll be fine.”

“Whatever you say, nomad,” Astrid said. She was smiling.

Knot stared into the fire. It was a risk, trying to get into Roden, especially now. Relations between Khale and Roden had always been strained, but lately things had been building to a head. A storm was about to break.

But that didn’t matter. Not yet. One step at a time, and Navone was the first. He would reach his destination one way or another. He
would
find what he was looking for. He had to believe that.

And, just maybe, Winter would be waiting for him when he returned.

W
INTER SAT NEAR THE
fire. The sun was just setting, and they had made camp off the road near a large boulder—something Winter recognized as a
rihnemin
, an ancient remnant of her race—and a grove of pines. Nearby, tied to a large tree, the horses snorted and whinnied softly, their breath steaming in the cold air.

The
rihnemin
, caked with snow, was almost the size of her father’s fishing boat. Boulders and rock outcrops were more and more common the further west they traveled—it was an odd feature that Winter had not seen east of Cineste—but she was certain this was no boulder. Winter did not know what the massive thing had once been, what it might have represented; any specific markings or writing on its surface had long since eroded. But Winter felt drawn to it.

So did Lian, apparently. When they first set up camp, Lian had walked up to the
rihnemin
reverently, placing one palm flat on its smooth stone surface.

“Your turn,” Kali said. She was walking towards Winter. In the distance, Winter saw Nash walking with Lian into the pine grove.

“What about him?” Winter asked.

“No reaction,” Kali said. “Disappointing, but not surprising.”

In the twilight, Lian shot an anxious glance towards Winter. He looked worried.

She didn’t like Lian worrying about her. It was all anyone seemed to do, lately. Perhaps, if she was one of these psimancers, she could protect
him
. But Lian had failed the test. Why should she fare any better?

“Winter,” Kali said, looking down at her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Winter shook herself. “Sorry.”

Kali sat on a log, facing Winter. The woman’s frost-blue eyes shone in the firelight. Winter still felt a coldness from Kali. She did not seem to think much of tiellans. She tried to hide it, but Winter could tell by the way the woman looked at her and at Lian. It was the same way Bahc had looked at a net of fish.

“What do I need to do?” Winter asked.

“I have a small supply of
faltira
,” Kali said. “I already told you the drug’s name means ‘frostfire’ in the old tongue, and that’s how you’ll know if you’re compatible. If you begin to feel elation or euphoria, and those sensations are accompanied by a freezing or burning feeling, then the drug is reacting to the latent ability within you. If that happens, we will test you further to see what ability you possess. If you only feel the elation, or even a sense of depression or pain, then there is nothing for the drug to react with. The answer will be clear, either way. It should only take a few minutes.”

Winter was hesitant, but she also felt a sense of anticipation building inside her. “Can anything bad happen, if the drug doesn’t work?” she asked.

Kali shook her head. “Unlikely. In rare cases, people have been known to react against
faltira
, and their bodies have… shut down. But that percentage is very small. Lian had no problems.”

Winter nodded. “Give it to me,” she said.

Kali reached into her satchel. “Very well.” Then she hesitated, gazing into Winter’s eyes. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that
faltira
can be addictive. I will give you a very small dose tonight. If you
do
react, I will not give you another dose for at least a day, perhaps two. Rationing the doses consistently is essential. Otherwise, the addiction grows unmanageable. The ability becomes useless in such bondage. Do you understand?”

Winter hesitated. She had heard of people addicted to hero, devil’s dust, or even wine and whiskey. She remembered a trip with her father to Cineste when she was young. They had had to go through a poor area of the city to get to a tiellan inn, and Winter recalled the gaunt, rotting faces that lined the streets, the people moaning, nearly naked despite the cold, begging for money for their drug of choice.

Was Winter willing to risk becoming one of those people—a husk of who she really was?

The answer came quickly. She was a shadow of her former self already. She had nothing to lose, and, according to Kali, everything to gain.

“I understand,” Winter said.

Kali handed Winter a small crystal and a waterskin. “Eat the frost, but take it with some water to help dilute the dose.”

Winter’s hand shook. The crystal was oblong with numerous facets, each one smooth and flat but a different size and shape than the other. It felt surprisingly light, like a piece of dried bark.

“I just… eat it?”

Kali nodded, watching her carefully.

Winter put the crystal in her mouth. It melted almost immediately, liquefying on her tongue. The taste was sickeningly sweet. She raised the waterskin to her mouth and took a long drink.

Then, she waited.

“Reaction times vary, so be patient,” Kali said. The woman continued staring at her. It made Winter uncomfortable; she felt like an object, something to be studied.

“Where is Elsi?” she asked. She didn’t know if she could bear the wait in silence, and she hadn’t seen the girl since they made camp.

“Elsi is… very shy,” Kali said. “She prefers her own company.”

Winter nodded, though it seemed odd. Why have a servant who didn’t like being around you?

“You still feel nothing?” Kali asked, after a few minutes.

Winter shook her head, a bitter disappointment filling her. “Same as always.”

Kali frowned. “Are you sure? You don’t feel any sense of excitement, elation? Does your skin feel cold, or your blood burn? Nothing?”

Winter shrugged. Why did Kali care so much whether Winter was a variant or not? Winter obviously wasn’t going to react. She suddenly felt foolish to have even hoped. She couldn’t be a psimancer, like these people. She wasn’t bold like they were, she wasn’t strong. She wasn’t human.

Then
something
—a feeling, it was the only way Winter could think of it—slammed into her so hard she nearly fell sideways into the snow. Kali was saying something, but Winter couldn’t make out the words.

All Winter knew was that, in that moment, she felt
alive
.

Nothing about her surroundings changed. Colors were the same, the cold at her back and the heat of the fire in front were the same, the last rays of sun breaking through the clouds on the horizon were the same. She shivered; her skin felt cold, as if she’d suddenly been struck by a stiff northerly wind.

But inside, she was on fire. Her blood seemed to boil, but instead of excruciating pain, she was in ecstasy.

Winter felt, for the first time in her life, truly powerful.

“Canta rising,” she heard Kali whisper. “It’s working.”

Dark rings started forming at the edge of Winter’s vision. Blackness closed in. She realized she hadn’t breathed since the sensation had taken over. She gulped in a breath of air, and it filled her lungs like a blissful fire. It was beautiful. She felt connected—with
everything
. “What… now…?” Winter managed. She was smiling, grinning like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like she could do anything.

“The drug works in three phases,” Kali said. Her voice was quick with excitement. “You should feel both a burning and freezing sensation at first. The cold will fade, and soon you’ll feel only fire. Once the fire fades, you’ll grow cold once more; that’s how you know the drug is wearing off.”

What Kali said was true. Whatever coldness Winter had felt was fading, and searing heat replaced it, coursing through every part of her.

“We have to decide which path is yours,” Kali said. “First, forget about your surroundings. Forget about me. Concentrate on yourself, your feelings. Your own mind.”

It was difficult to concentrate on any one thing. Winter was a rock in the middle of a raging river, her thoughts rushing past her too quickly to grasp.

“Concentrate, Winter,” she heard Kali say from far away. “Get a hold of yourself and
think
.”

Winter tried focusing on something, anything, but she felt utterly lost. The water surged around her. She was being uprooted, unearthed. Soon she’d be washed away.

Winter heard Kali’s voice in the distance, more insistent now, but Winter was too far into her own self. Thoughts and memories enveloped her. She still felt the incredible elation, but a nagging fear accompanied it, a dark foreboding that she couldn’t identify.

And then Winter’s father was taking her hunting in the Alder Forest. Everywhere was white with snow. Winter accidentally broke her bow and Bahc made her craft a new one from a tree limb.

It was years before that, and her father was teaching her to use her bow for the first time. Winter was young. So young, and she could feel the grain of the wood in her hand, could see the straw target ahead of her, painted blue and white.

Then Knot was looking at her—it was just a moment of so many in which he had caught her eye—and he smiled. They were on the deck of Bahc’s boat, it was summer, and the wind blew across the sea. Winter smiled back at him.

She was playing on the dock with Lian, they were both children, and the sun glinted off the water. Her father and Gord laughed in the distance.

She was in the murky water below the dock, diving for her mother’s earring. The water was dark, and the dark closed in around her. She was cold and tired, and her limbs failed her.

Winter was married to Knot. They were living in her old house in Pranna, and she woke up in the middle of the night with her head on his chest. They had made love, and then fallen asleep together. Starlight winked in through the window, and a full moon illuminated a crib in the corner. Slowly, not wanting to disturb Knot, Winter stood. She walked to the crib, and looked down at her daughter.

And somewhere, deep down, Winter knew that was different than her other memories. She did not have a daughter; she and Knot had never made love. It wasn’t a memory at all, it was a fantasy, and it threatened to tear her from her place in the river and sweep her along into Oblivion.

Winter wanted to hold her daughter and never let go, to keep Knot’s warmth and the full moon close, but instead she felt herself let the thought flow on, felt it rush away from her in the current. She thought of the time she
had
spent with Knot. She thought of her father, teaching her how to fish. She thought of her mother’s earring. She thought of Lian and Eranda and Gord. If an experience came to her mind that she knew she hadn’t shared with any of these people, she let it go. Everything else she gathered to herself. She kept her memories close, and let everything else slip away. Soon, she was solid again in her place in the river, and another rock had formed near her. Winter smiled.

Then, she was back by the campfire. Kali was shaking her, calling her name.

“I’m alright,” Winter said.
Faltira
still raged inside her. She burned with pleasure, and she felt
powerful
.

“Winter.” Kali’s voice was cautious. Warning.

Nash and Lian had returned, Winter realized, and they were staring at her. They looked back and forth between her and the massive boulder, the
rihnemin
.

The
rihnemin
that was currently floating off the ground. Higher than Winter could reach if she stood on her toes.

Winter smiled. She felt a connection to the boulder. She didn’t know what it was, but she felt it there, just below the surface of her mind.

Then, with a loud
thump
that shook the earth, the boulder dropped to the ground. Snow burst upward, and the fire went out.

Winter slumped back, exhausted, as the euphoria slowly faded.

* * *

“You all right?” Lian asked her.

Winter looked up at him. He’d been terrified not moments before. He’d been worried for her. Of course he would be.