6

Ash

My horse is anxious, poor thing. I can’t seem to calm her. She snorts and tugs at the reins, pulling them through my frozen fingers as we thunder along. “Settle. Settle.” I’m talking to both of us as we race away from Baiseen as if our tails are on fire. According to Master Brogal, they are.

I look over my shoulder at the city lights, tears blurring them into streams against the night sky. The dak’n deep, empty feeling that stabs at my chest is still with me. I keep telling everyone I’m fine, but the truth is I’m missing something. More than Kaylin, who has returned, though the old gods know I miss his voice in my head. Not my inner voice with its gems of wisdom and sharp quips, though that I miss, too. It’s like I’ve forgotten something precious, a treasure left behind with my old books and outgrown boots. A presence so familiar, I can hardly breathe with it gone…but I don’t know what it is!

My mind is …fractured. That’s the only way to describe it. Like a vase dropped and some pieces hold their shape and others are shards, sharp and small and requiring glue. Some memories are intact, and others…gone.

I hate that part of my past is missing.

I hate that I can recall six languages and easily twice as many dialects, but I can’t recall what happened amid the battle. Or the details of my day yesterday. I hate that I remember Kaylin’s voice in my head, the deep lilt and cadence of it, but I can’t hear it now, so I doubt myself that I ever did.

My inner voice, if it were audible, would say, true, true, but there’s much more to think about now.

No argument there. Master Brogal finally gave me access to the information I’ve been asking for. A year’s worth of reading in the form of books and manuscripts. I only had time to scan the titles as I carefully packed them to take on the journey. I can’t wait to dive in, but really, what took him so long? I press my fingers to my temple. I guess I haven’t been all that well. Still, equally exciting but somewhat daunting is the bronze medallion that hangs around my neck. It’s not a parting gift from Master Brogal. I would never mistake it as that. It’s a communication tool, imbibed with amplifying powers.

Imagine it! Me, a non-savant recorder, wearing a device forged in the mines of ancient Sierrak. The purpose is to heighten thoughts, pushing them along the ethers between two or more receiving medallions so the wearers can communicate over great distances.

It’s an uncomfortable idea, Master Brogal and I conversing mind-to-mind. It’s hard enough talking to him aloud. But, as our brief trial not an hour ago proved, it’s different from the mind speech I am used to. That I was used to. Different from Kaylin’s sweet missives, my dry inner voice, even De’ral’s pictorial images.

I look at Kaylin riding beside me and feel the comfort of his nearness, the anticipation of our next shared moment. I’m grateful for his return. So grateful. “Kaylin?”

From his mind, there is no answer. Not a mental peep. It pinches my heart so much I have to look away.

When Marcus brings us down to a walk, Kaylin reins his mount close to mine.

In front of us, Marcus and Rowten converse without any reserve.

“Bless the path.” Rowten lifts his chin, turning to say to us all. “But you’ll have to educate me as to what that path is exactly. There was no time.”

“It’s simple,” I speak up, as is my role as recorder. “We ride with all urgency to the Bone Thrower’s cave to collect Baiseen’s first whistle bone. Then, we sail to Nonnova in hopes of collecting theirs. Beyond that—”

“Save the details for later.” Marcus glances to the east. “Dawn’s coming. Let’s not keep the ship waiting.”

“You’ve secured a vessel?” Rowten asks.

“Kaylin has,” I say. “We’re meeting Captain Anders of the Dugong at sunrise, at the mouth of the Suni River.”

Rowten salutes and we continue at a trot.

Kaylin keeps his mount shoulder to shoulder with mine and leans toward me, his voice lowered.

“So, Rowten?” he asks. “Anything I should know?”

“Pardon?” I wrinkle my nose.

“His phantom’s fascinated with you, for one.”

“Oh, that happens. Remember—” Meaning dawns and I laugh the notion away. “It’s just I…everyone really...loves him.” That didn’t come out right. I take a breath and start over. “His younger sister Lilian befriended me, long before he became captain of the Guard. I spent time in his family home.” I study Kaylin’s thoughtful expression. “He’s an asset to the group, I promise. And that is all.”

Kaylin gives a nod after a few moments of silence. “Good he has joined us then.” The words are cheery, but his brow remains pinched. I wonder if he’s testing our mental communication in these long pauses, like I have been. A test that is failing terribly. What is wrong with us?

We ease to a walk as the road turns steep. “The Bone Thrower’s cave isn’t far.” I have to say something, and none of my questions seem right for the moment.

“Cave?” Kaylin asks.

“It is, but not the way you might think.” You’ll see, I add but again, there’s no sign he hears me.

The trees become sparse, the grass thinning as the grade turns steep. “There they are!” I lift my voice and point. The pillars that mark the entrance to the Bone Thrower’s cave stand out stark against the cliff face. They are only reached by a sheer, single file track. It reduces the possibility of a surprise attack of any force. We dismount and form a long, snaking line as we climb toward the stronghold.

Thousands of years ago, the ocean lapped at the foot of the pillars, hugging the contours of the mountainside. Not anymore. The water receded over eons, sucked up into Amassia’s frozen poles. It left oddities, like these stairs that begin halfway up the cliff face at a rocky shelf, the remnants of a stone pier now miles from the shore. Farther along the cliff wall, side doors open outward and are lit from the inside, but they are impossible to reach save by an eagle. I count myself lucky to see any of it.

The general population, non-savants that is, are not usually allowed entrance into the Bone Throwers’ domain. I am the rare exception. Well, me and Nun, Brogal’s trusted assistant. But that is only by the direct request of the High Savant himself. Even the Bone Throwers must defer to Master Brogal, the reigning red-robe of Baiseen. But otherwise, this is their sanctuary where they keep the records of the realm, train their initiates, carve the whistle bones and, of course, throw the bones.

“Halt,” Rowten and Marcus say at the same time. They frown at each other, both accustomed to giving orders.

This will be interesting. As I think it, a shadow falls over me.

“What is it, lass?” Kaylin whispers.

Quick as lightning, the feeling is gone. I shake my head. How can I explain a premonition when there is no evidence in sight? “Probably nothing.”

He raises his brow, but I don’t know what else to say.

Two black-robes, a man and a woman, greet us at the gate. I can tell by their expressions we are expected.

Well, they are Bone Throwers after all. They should see things coming.

We tie our horses at the watering trough and follow the black-robes up the final steps. The walkway to the upper level is lined with clay pots, each with a dwarf citrus tree. They have such a beautiful fragrance in spring, and are grafted with every known citrus—lemon, lime, orange, mandarin. But now they are bare and thorny. We reach the top of the steps where the tall pillars stand. They mark the wide entrance into the cave. More like a marble palace, spacious and dry. The walls are covered with tapestries, floors with plush rugs. No hint of dirt or roots.

“Stay here, please,” the black-robe guard says to Marcus. “We will retrieve the Ancient Shearwater for you.”

A shiver straightens my back. The Ancient Shearwater! I don’t need Brogal’s books to tell me what it looks like. Carved from a shoulder blade and etched with seabirds in flight, it represents the third lot or path to An’awntia, Awareness of Mind. It was given to the Sanctuary of Baiseen to watch over and has been hanging in our meeting hall for generations, until Tann’s attack that is. Then they sent it straight here for the Bone Throwers to guard.

“Wait here?” Kaylin asks.

I nod. “There’s no ceremony required in this instance. Brogal informed them and sent our Bone Thrower to see to the transfer of guardianship.” Was it only a few hours ago we were all sitting in his chambers?

We mill about the high-ceilinged foyer, warming hands on the open braziers and studying the wall hangings. The scenes on them vary, but all include the sea in deep greens and black, sometimes calm, sometimes wild and stormy. I recognize Baiseen on the nearest one, and the waters between here and Nonnova, our next destination. I walk on, my eyes unable to pull away from the tapestries. When I come to one with a volcanic eruption, I stop.

There, on an island in the Nonnova chain, is a horrendous scene. A mountain explodes. Molten lava flows like fire down to the roiling sea, consuming everything in its path. A magnificent coastal Sanctuary is buried alive. Savants flee, their faces twisted into frozen screams. I swallow a bitter taste in my mouth and reach out to touch the painting, my fingers brushing lightly across the mass devastation. “When did this happen?” I have no recollection of such an eruption in our histories.

“Not that long ago, child.”

I jump and look around. There’s no one near me.

“This way, and hurry.”

I find the direction of the voice just as a figure disappears down a hallway. White-robe? There is only one I’ve ever met, the fabled white-robe of the Aku Sanctuary, but it couldn’t be her, could it? “Talus?”

I turn a corner and see her clear as day.

“Finally,” Talus says as I meet her face-to-face. She’s obviously been traveling. The hem of her white robe is muddy and torn. But her pale gray hair is neatly braided and her handsome brown face is serene as ever. She smiles a familiar, motherly smile, and no matter how shocked I am to see her here, only weeks since the attack on Aku, I feel compelled to smile back. “It’s really you?” I drop to one knee before rising. “How—”

“No time for that. Listen to me, child. They’ll return soon.”

“With Baiseen’s first whistle bone, yes and then we—”

“No, it’s not. But that doesn’t matter yet.”

“What?”

“Baiseen’s whistle bone. You mustn’t be fooled. It will appear later, though, so don’t worry.”

“Um…” I’m too confused to worry. “Talus, can you slow down?”

“The next one you seek isn’t where you think it is. Use your instincts, girl. You had it right when studying the mural. Do you remember the name of the island?”

“The one destroyed?”

“Bakton, Ash. Remember that. It will call to you.”

I’m pretty sure the Island of Bakton doesn’t have a voice, and if it did, it wouldn’t direct it at me. I shake my head.

“Instincts, Ash. Use them. Go where they lead, and know that I will guide you whenever I can.”

“Ash?” Kaylin calls. “We’re leaving.” His footsteps pad down the hallway after me.

I put my hand out to stop him but when I turn back to Talus, she is gone.

“Who were you talking to?”

“You didn’t see?” I look up and down the hall but it’s empty, as if she’d never been there.