Chapter 24: Time to Talk

Kiril could not sleep, which surprised him because he had always slept well, despite the many terrible things he had seen and done. While on the hunt or during battle, he could go several days with only bits of sleep here and there – and, of course, he often slept while marching or fighting, as all Dormians did – but what he treasured most were the rare times when he could sleep and simply sway in a hammock or sit in a chair and whittle with his knife. That was the greatest of all luxuries.

Tonight, however, was a different story. He had insomnia. The instant he lay in bed, his mind kicked into overdrive, thinking about Nartam. He replayed the events that had led to him telling one lie, and then another, and concluded that these lies would inevitably multiply. It was the nature of lying – with each successive invention, it becomes easier and easier to keep going. Nevertheless, Kiril believed it was right to have lied. What choice did he have? His bigger concern was the Shadow Tree. He could barely bring himself to look at it. And the way that Nartam talked about the tree, as if it were an extension of himself – it was very unsettling.

Eventually, after several hours of restless turning, Kiril gave up, dressed quickly and climbed to the deck of the massive man-of-war that served as Dragoonya headquarters and the living chambers for Nartam and his most trusted aides. There were several guards on the deck, but all of them appeared comatose, lost in a dream world created by the black ash. Kiril walked up to one of the guards and examined him closely. His eyelids were covered with ash. Kiril snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face and he didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. In the old days, the Dragoonya always used the ash in moderation because there was so little of it; now they had such an abundance of it, that even common guards were overdosing on the stuff – and while on duty! Kiril strode away from the gathering of lights in the forecastle and to the quarterdeck where Nartam lived.

He had to talk to him now, thought Kiril. If it wasn’t already too late.

Kiril wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to say it, but he knew that he had to speak frankly about the Tree. Kiril had seen the stockpiles of ash that his men had gathered. There was enough ash there, if used wisely, to last them a very long time. The tree had served its usefulness. Kiril was glad of that. Indeed, he had risked his own life many times so that the tree could be planted, but it had become a liability – worse than a liability it had become an insidious presence that was starting to affect the minds of his men and of Nartam himself.

Kiril was relieved to see that the guard stationed in front of Nartam’s door was awake and alert.

“Where is Nartam?” demanded Kiril.

“Down in the Great Cave,” said the guard. “Shall I send someone down with a message?”

“No,” said Kiril, “I’ll go myself.”

Twenty minutes later, Kiril was on the ground, trudging through the snow, making his way to the Great Cave. It was so cold out that the snowflakes on the ground had turned into dry crystals that swirled like sand beneath his feet. He walked as quickly as he could, face tucked into his jacket, eyes trained on the ground. Eventually, he looked up. The cold stung his eyes. And there it was. In between Kiril and the mouth of the Cave stood the Shadow Tree. The trunk of the tree was enormously thick – equivalent to that of a Great Sequoia – which seemed inconceivable, given that the tree had only been planted days ago. Its trunk was badly disfigured – studded with the stubs of old limbs that had been cut off and burned. The uppermost branches of the tree squirmed and wiggled like thousands of skeletal fingers that, all at once, had come to life and were grasping for something to grip.

Two guards stood at the base of the tree. It was impossible to tell if they were alert and doing their jobs or whether they too had taken the ash and lost their senses. “Hey there!” yelled Kiril as he approached the men. Neither of them responded or even budged an inch. As he drew nearer, Kiril could see that their eye sockets were dark with the stain of ash. “Wake up!” screamed Kiril. “You are supposed to be...”

Kiril never finished the sentence, because the two men both drew their swords at once and charged him. Kiril was so caught off guard, so totally shocked, that he barely had time to draw his own sword before the two men were upon him. The first guard lunged at Kiril wildly and Kiril parried his attack and deftly stepped out of the way so that the man crashed to the earth and nearly impaled himself with his own sword. The second guard was more cautious. He circled around Kiril and waited for his companion to get back on his feet.

“Drop your swords now,” growled Kiril, “Or I shall kill you both.”

The men said nothing. They seemed incapable of speech. One of them stared at him with dull, deadened eyes and the other was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. A long few seconds passed and then they both attacked Kiril at once. The guard who was closer, the one who was foaming at the mouth, lunged at him recklessly. Kiril turned sideward, swung his own sword with blazing speed, and cleanly took off the man’s head. Kiril barely had time to fend off the other man’s attack. He brought up his sword to block the guard’s thrust. There was a great clang of steel meeting steel. Kiril feinted left, then spun right, and slashed the man across his side. The guard howled in pain, dropped his sword, and fell to the ground.

Then there was silence. The only sound was the wind whistling through the branches of the Shadow Tree. Kiril looked up at the tree and then backed away as quickly as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never felt so frightened in his life.

“What has happened?” yelled a frantic voice. Kiril looked up. It was Nartam. He was standing in the Mouth of the Great Cave and he too looked terrified. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” said Kiril wearily. “Fine.”

“Oh what a relief!” yelled Nartam. Kiril walked toward him. Kiril was amazed to see that tears were streaming down Nartam’s cheeks. “Thank heavens,” said Nartam with the worried voice of a father. “I feared something had happened to the Tree.”