The Shadowglass (The Bone Witch, #3)(14)
Khalad leaned forward. “That was Rashnu’s account of the death of his fellow Great Heroes, is it not? At the Ring of Worship in Drycht? But what’s a Sacred Tree?”
“Yes, Rashnu was never the same after that. They say the Ring of Worship is where the Great Creator first breathed life into the world, and that his sons’ sins corrupted the area. None has ever returned from it, aside from Rashnu. Even Vernasha made her final journey there, then passed from men’s sight forever. Others have made the expedition never to be heard from again. If the dry, desert heat didn’t wring those poor adventurers dry, perhaps they too were victims of this strange Sacred Tree. Daeva refuse to enter the area, it is said. If the First Harvest is within, then there is something that not only prevents its fruit from being plucked, but also kills anyone who—”
A scream rang through the air. It came from the other room. Kalen was quick on his feet, and we all hurried behind.
Althy was sprawled on the floor. Garindor’s young assistant hunched over his bed, horrible noises emanating from his throat. His eyes were wide and bloodshot.
As we looked on, horrified, his face twisted. Clumps of hair dropped from his head as his skull flattened and shrank, but his scarlet gaze grew as his eyelids and brows disappeared and a snout sprouted from the remains of his nose. His fingers fused together, the tips turning razor-sharp, until he was no longer recognizable as human. Instead, what stood before us was a grayish-green creature that resembled a praying mantis, taller than Rahim, with several rows of teeth along its mandible. It screeched, a horrible, air-ripping sound, and reached for Althy.
My fingers flew, the Compulsion rune flaring bright before me. “Stop!” I commanded, but the magic ricocheted off the creature’s scales. Stunned by my failure, I attempted the Resurrecting rune, which I used to control daeva. It had the same effect.
Kalen’s sword barred the creature from striking Althy. He made a quick movement with his other hand, and his blade burst into flame. Hissing, the creature stepped back. Likh was quick to braid a series of Wind around it, pinning it in place.
Garindor gasped. “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know,” Althy said. It was rare to see her so frightened. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Kalen added his strength to Likh’s, reinforcing their grip on the monster. Still, Kalen held his burning sword aloft should the monster shake itself free. “What do we do?” Kalen asked me.
“I can’t do anything. Dark runes won’t work on it.” Fear swirled at the center of my heartsglass. An azi responded to my beck and call, but it meant nothing to this historian’s assistant. With this new form of daeva, I was helpless. “Khalad?”
The Heartforger was just as stumped. When I looked at his face, I found my own emotions mirrored. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not a daeva.”
“I’ll send for Rendor immediately,” Councilor Ludvig said brusquely. “We’ll have as many men as he can spare to contain it. I am sorry, Garindor, but we have no other choice.”
“I understand,” the Drychta said weakly, sinking into a nearby chair. “Not daeva. These—these are foul, Blighted creatures. Yarrod, my poor boy…”
Tea? Are you all right? Tea!
Fox. I counted my heartbeats and rearranged my emotions, trotting calm and assurance to the forefront so they were the first emotions he read off me. I’m okay. We just had an incident.
An incident my foot. I saw that thing!
We have the situation under control, Fox. How’s Inessa?
Probably wondering why I marched out of the room. Are you sure you’re okay?
I promise.
There’s something… I can’t explain it, but there’s a strange emptiness between us. It wasn’t there before.
I stiffened, taking care not to think too deeply about my heartsglass to avert suspicion. Must be because we’re so far away. We’ve never been separated by kingdoms before.
I suppose so. I felt him relax, though not completely, because that wouldn’t be Fox. He pressed me. What in the seven hells is going on there?
I don’t know. It’s not daeva, Fox. I can’t control it.
Then what is it?
I wish I knew, I thought grimly, staring at the snapping face, the wriggling limbs of the abomination before me. I wish I knew.
“Thought it silly, the first time I heard it,” Lady Zoya said, long hair streaming behind her as she scanned the sea with a practiced eye. Under her command, the ship purred like a cat, keel pointed unerringly toward the future. “It’s an old legend. Myth. Who cares what some senile old fool wrote centuries ago? We don’t deal in ancient stories and potters’ tales. What does that have to do with the here and now? Blade that Soars can’t help us. Hollow Knife can’t help us. There’s nothing more useless than the devout follower of a dead god, unless it’s the dead god himself.”
She tore her gaze away long enough to survey me head to foot, as if I were an unknown specimen, and turned away again. “I’m not as big on tales as Tea was,” she said, her flinty, gray eyes once more marking the horizon before her. “Old tales aren’t going to change the world. I’ve performed the darashi oyun for a few years now, and I’d never once believed in the words, only in the dance. That’s what’s important, isn’t it? The things you do. But lately, I don’t know. I never knew about the Blight rune. Never realized there were blighted creatures until I disemboweled one myself. What else didn’t the elder asha tell us? What else hadn’t Tea told us?” Her hands clenched the ship’s bow. “Why would she attack Ankyo?”