8

Marcus

Baiseen shrinks behind us as we gallop away. Into the dark unknown.

Dramatic, De’ral says.

I groan. Phantoms are meant to sleep, resting until needed, but this one never does, not completely. “We’re leaving Baiseen without so much as a salute. I have to mark the moment somehow, even if it’s only in my head.”

Anyway, it’s true. The road is dark. The moon wanes. The second sun has set. At least, I assume it has because I can’t find it.

I cast one last glance at my city. Over the bay, fireworks pop, marking the midwinter solstice. It’s eerie, how they burst across the night sky in silence, the booms reaching us a second later. I can’t hear the cheers, but I can imagine them. How many years did Petén and I sneak onto the roof of the highest turret to watch? I clamp my jaw tight. Another in the long list of things I will never do again. Not with my usurping brother.

I force myself to turn away. Look ahead, not behind.

This is me now, the Bone Gatherer, racing against Tann and the second sun.

Herald of the next Great Dying, De’ral adds.

“Do you even know what that means?” Because I don’t.

De’ral paces in the depths of my mind. Brooding. He still wants to stomp Petén into an early grave. To be fair, I do too. What will happen to the realm with him in command? And my father? I know in my heart I’ll never see him again.

I call a halt at the crossroads, waiting for Belair who brings up the rear.

“What exactly did the Bone Thrower record about the reading?” Samsen asks and nods to my pocket, knowing the list is there. “Can we hear the additional notes?” As usual, he’s giving me something productive to focus on.

I pull out the short scroll and unroll it, angling it to the moonlight. It’s not necessary. In the hours since the momentous reading in Brogal’s chambers, I’ve memorized it.

Make your journey from the youngest sanctuaries to eldest—Baiseen, Nonnova Isles, Kutoon, Tangeen, and Asyleen.

Not until spring renewal will the quest be complete.

A curse of shadows blinds all but one.

A sea dragon lies in the depths, changing the path of every shore.

The smallest phantom extracts the highest price.

A ruler from the exalted throne will cause deception.

When the red sun lights the world on fire, the true journey begins.

Only arrows from the sea can pierce the Heir’s heart.

“Marcus? Anything helpful?” Ash prods when I don’t speak.

“The main thing, we already know. I am designated Bone Gatherer. After that, it’s mostly rhymes and riddles, as usual.”

“Try us.” Samsen rides up beside me.

I take a breath. “We have the order of the journey, as promised. It runs from the youngest sanctuary to the oldest—Baiseen, Nonnova Isles, Kutoon, Tangeen, and Asyleen.”

“Asyleen? In Sierrak?” Ash’s eyes light up.

She’s itching to go there. “It’s what it says.” I run my thumb down the list. The rest is nonsense.

You’re surprised?

I ignore De’ral and give them the gist. “We’ll be gone well into spring. Something about a curse of shadows. Great. Just what we need. Oh, and sea dragons exist, apparently, because one will change the path of every shore.” I stop to roll my eyes. Belair laughs outright. “Then, it’s look out for small phantoms, deception, rulers on high, and when the second sun sets the world afire, well, that sounds like the end of the world to me.”

“Is that what it says?” Ash asks.

“No. It says that’s when the true journey begins.”

I omit the last prediction because it names me specifically and I don’t like what it says. Last thing I want is everyone trying to protect me from hypothetical arrows every time we near the coast.

Maybe they are metaphorical arrows.

I wrinkle my brow. It’s not a word I expect from my phantom. Metaphorical? “Have you been talking to Ash?”

I haven’t. De’ral sounds oddly confused about that admission.

I roll up the list and tuck it back into my deep pocket. These details change nothing. Mollify nothing! I gaze up the road, toward the Suni River mouth. In that direction it’s all dark headlands and a darker sea. “Ride on,” I command and nearly doze off until Piper’s declaration startles me.

“Is that our ship?” she asks when we halt on the last ridge. Between us and the sea is a steep ride down a cliff, across the headland plains for half a mile, and then down the sandy dunes to the beach. I squint at a tiny light winking at us not far out to sea.

“I imagine so,” Rowten answers before I do.

“Aye, it is,” Kaylin says at the same time.

Ash yawns. “We made it.” But then she sniffs the air. “Do you smell that?”

“Flowers?” I don’t usually mind her attention to the details of nature, but this isn’t really the time.

“Not flowers,” she protests. “More earthy like—”

“Freshly turned soil?” Kaylin says as he lifts his nose. His horse shifts nervously.

“I don’t smell it,” I say.

“I do.” Piper is alert. “Fresh rain on newly turned fields.”

We all look up to a now cloudless vault overhead. No rain for miles.

“Let’s go,” Rowten says. His voice is light, but I hear the undertone of concern.

“You suspect something?” I ask.

He shrugs it off. “We want to be across that field before sunrise. Less exposure.”

It takes a moment to sink in. “You fear an attack?” I don’t give him time to answer. “We ran off Tann’s horde, and the one from Gollnar. This is Palrion soil. None would dare trespass.”

Aturnians dared. Gollnarians dared. The—

“That was before we sent them packing!” I shout aloud. It echoes over the hills and the constant background of chirping insects suddenly stops. My company all stare. It’s obvious I’m responding to a jab from my phantom, not something I like making public—the prods or my need to defend myself. All tell-tale signs of poor control. My face flushes hot. “Do you fear an attack?” I repeat my question to Rowten.

“It’s unlikely.” But still, he points his horse’s nose toward the goat track and heads down the hill. He’s not even waiting for me to confirm the plan. It’s starting to rankle, but Master Brogal would say that line of thinking won’t take me further along the path. Ash would say it, too.

“Shall we spread out? Not all take the same track?” There are other goat paths, pale in the dim light, winding to the bottom. “Safer that way.” I have to say something to save face.

Ash would say—

“Do. Be. Quiet, De’ral!”

“Good idea.” Piper comes up beside me and gives me a salute. “In case one of us brings a landslide.”

She couldn’t have said it better if I’d planted the words in her head. I’m glad she acknowledges my leadership.

While the others disappear over the edge, I take a final look behind in the direction of Baiseen. There’s nothing to see anymore, but it doesn’t stop my skin from prickling. Brother of mine, be sure of one thing. If you misguide the realm or threaten the Sanctuary, I’ll take back my throne, by force if necessary.