58

Marcus

I wake to throbbing pain consuming every inch of my body, and Piper and Samsen conversing over my head.

“…already two transfusions. He’ll survive, but…” Piper’s voice trails off and I can’t yet open my eyes to see her expression.

“He mustn’t raise his phantom again,” Samsen says. “Not until we find a red-robe warrior who understands this sort of problem. What I saw—”

“Samsen, he’s coming to.”

“I need a red-robe-level healer?” I feebly pat at my body, trying to make sure I still have all four limbs.

“Your body isn’t the problem, Marcus.”

I blink at Samsen as he speaks, his face grim.

Piper brings her phantom in as she and Samsen lift me to my feet. The world spins and nausea sweeps through me in waves. I nearly throw up.

“Easy, Marcus. We’re going to get you on a ship.”

“Yuki,” I say, but they take it for a grunt and carry on.

They hurry me down the ravine until a sweet call fills the air. The next moment, Samsen’s blade is gone, ripped out of his hand. It arcs toward the stables at high speed along with abandoned weapons on the road. There are multiple thwacks, followed by screams. Piper’s long knife flies out of her free hand as well.

“What’s happening?” I choke out the words, trying to stand on my own.

Samsen points to his phantom circling above. “It’s Tyche.”

“She disarmed us?” Piper asks.

“Aturnians have her cornered on the other side of the stables. She’s calling weapons to impale them.”

“Help her.” I manage to speak more clearly. “Leave me. Go help her.”

Samsen calls in his raptor to hover over me and runs back up the hill. Piper drops to raise her phantom and then follows on his heels. I stagger behind them. “Where’s my sword?” I ask my phantom.

With Ash, De’ral says from the depths.

It’s impossible. I haven’t seen Ash since walking her to the library this morning. How could she have my sword? I remember Samsen telling me that she survived the attack, but…where is she?

With the sailor.

It disturbs me that my phantom has more awareness of what’s going on than I do right now.

When I reach the stables, I stop short and blink, forcing my eyes to open wider. At least two Aturnian guards are on the ground riddled with weapons. Samsen pulls his blade from one’s back. Piper retrieves her long knife from the other’s chest. Tyche stands in the corner of a roofless stall, her hands in irons, her little impala phantom trembling.

“It’s all right,” Piper says. “You’re safe.”

I want to point out that safe is the last thing any of us are, but I don’t have the strength.

The girl stares at the bodies. “I killed them.”

“You defended yourself,” Piper says calmly. “Well done. Are you injured?”

Tyche shakes her head.

“Do you know where Yuki is?” Samsen asks.

“Dead,” Tyche says in a small voice, her eyes dry and hollow.

“Peace be her path,” Samsen says gently. “How did it happen? Boulders?”

“A red-robe.” Her eyes look away.

“Which red-robe?” Samsen asks

“Tann, High Savant from Sierrak,” I answer for her.

Piper gasps and she and Samsen swing around. “What are you doing? Marcus, you’re in no condition—”

“Destan told me,” I say. “Tann leads the attack on Aku.”

“Tann,” Tyche says in a hollow voice. “He marched me into Yuki’s hall, his ouster clearing a path for the brown-robes—”

Samsen swings back around. “Wait. He brought initiates here?”

She shakes her head. “Cowled savants, not children. Couldn’t see their faces, but the ousters and warriors guarding them were fierce. They carried a chest.” Her brown eyes are vacant, even as tears spill down her cheeks. “Tann said if I called the first whistle bone, he’d let Yuki live.” She bows her head. “I did what he asked, but once he had the Crown of Er…”

“Aku’s first whistle bone?” Piper asks.

She nods, sobbing. “He cut her throat, filled the chest with her blood, and locked the bone inside.”

I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.

Piper lifts her to her feet. “Tyche, listen to me. It’s not your fault.”

“Now he’s after me. After all the callers on Aku!”

Tann is after callers? My head spins, on the edge of understanding, but I can’t quite grasp why.

“We’re going to keep you safe,” Samsen assures her.

“Call the key to these irons, and a warm coat.” Piper looks down. “Boots, too. We have to hurry.”

She doesn’t respond, but the phantom sings, and moments later an embroidered, mid-length coat flies to her, along with brown leather lace-up boots. From the coat pocket spills a little bean-stuffed toy, a replica of her impala small enough to fit in her hand.

“Imp,” the girl whispers and picks it up, red eyes turning to Piper. “Yuki made this for me when I was born. She knew what my phantom was before anyone saw it.”

Piper’s expression breaks, but she’s quick to pull herself back together. “Come now. Up you get.” She lifts the girl by the armpits, drapes the coat over her shoulders, and does up the top button like a cape. She pushes the toy deep into the pocket, knots the bootlaces together, and slings them over her head. “The key?”

Tyche shakes her head. “I don’t know what it looks like.”

“Shh!” Samsen hushes us at the sound of advancing boots. He motions toward the ravine. “Keep to the cover,” he whispers and picks up the child.

“Her manacles?” Piper says.

“No time.”

Piper glares at me and turns me around. “You were supposed to wait.” She wedges herself under my arm and limps me to the edge of the ravine.

I lean heavily on her. “How are we getting off the island?”

“Kaylin has a plan.”

I groan but keep moving. “I hope it’s a good one.”