Page 30 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
Farah looked away, not meeting her gaze. “Anything to get us off this gods-forsaken isle.” But as the two young girls began to walk toward the trail that led back to the ship, Katrin couldn’t help but notice the tick in Farah’s hand.
It was a long walk back to the southern end of the isle, about a day's time, that is, if you did not know the shortcuts hidden about. Katrin led them to the tunnels beneath the center Triad Mountain, its hidden underground trails easy to navigate if you knew the meaning of the markings along the walls. Symbols and whirls sat at the top of each archway, marking safe passage, dead end, or corridors with a more permanent kind of end. Only two people alive knew what these markings meant—and gods, she really hoped the second now lay dead somewhere far behind them. A small piece of Katrin hated herself for the thought, even after everything. She once loved him—thought she loved him at least.
They needed time. Just enough to get a head start through the trails and tunnels. If they could do that, even if the soldiers found the bodies outside the dungeons, horses could not catch them, not when they would need to go around the base of the mountains. During late autumn, the ground would begin to freeze, making it more difficult to travel over. Even Arion, her father’s prized steed, could not move swiftly through the winding forest with the growing ice that coated floors, the risk of the horse or a member of the Spartanis shattering a bone if running too quickly was too high. The crew ofThe Nostoshad the advantage of surprise when they landed in Alentus—they no longer had that reprieve.
“We’ll be safe traveling through these tunnels, at least for now,” Katrin told the others, lighting a torch with a flint rock, rag, andoil that sat at the opening to the mountain. The tunnels under the Triad were strange—magic did not work there the same as it did outside. It was volatile, unpredictable, and Katrin could not risk that. Not now.
“You expect us to go through here?” Leighton’s voice shuttered, a whip of chilled wind curling around him. “It…it looks like…” his voice trailed off, a dead expression frozen on his face.
Ander looked up at the nauarch. Even through his weathered gaze and the pain he must feel, his features softened. “It is not like Cyther. Katrin knows the way, no evil lingers in these walls.”
That wasn’t necessarily true, but Katrin did not want to frighten any of them more than they already were. When she was young, Kohl and her happened upon carvings in the caves. At first they looked like the story known to all of Odessia—the birth of the Grechi—but when they looked closer, it was a much more violent scene. Monsters ripped their way out of a woman they could only assume was Alenia, the Mother herself, and scattered into caverns within the mountain. They never encountered one of these creatures face to face, but many times, as they wandered unmarked paths, vicious cries seemed to echo against the walls.
Three passageways lay before them each with a different symbol above. The left, four yellow concentric circles. The middle, three stacked blue waves. The right, a silver square with a line through the center.
“So we go down the center, right?” asked Leighton. “The three blue lines mean water, the other side of the mountain?”
Grimacing, Katrin pointed toward the left, the darkest and narrowest of the paths. “We are going there. The center leads to water,but no matter which path you take further down it you end up at underground bays. They lead nowhere.”
“And the right? That is not an option either?” he asked once more.
“I’m afraid that leads to a dead end or a thin parapet. The parapet is faster to travel if you can navigate the other side, but Ander and Chloe will not make it over injured. We go the sun route.”
“And why is it called the sun route?” Farah piped up from behind.
“Because when you think the walls have closed in too much, when you think you will never make it out, that the darkness has consumed you, the light will break through. It is long and it is taxing, but it is our best chance of survival, of getting off this isle.”
Katrin began to lead them in, but not before noticing Leighton halted for a mere moment outside, staring at the sun that began to break over the mountain. The nauarch had been through so much—too much—a fate worse than even Katrin and Ander, and yet she had never thought to ask him how he was coping, how he managed his sanity over the years. Each of them was so broken, for different reasons, but it made them the same. It was why they were family. She walked over to Leighton, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Just keep your eyes on me, I will get us out. I will get us all out, I promise.”
Leighton’s voice sank to a faint whisper. “You can’t promise that, Katrin, even if you want to.”
Today she could. But when war spread through the isles—what if she wasn’t strong enough to save them? Wasn't strong enough to save everyone?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ander
The thick line that carried their small skiff from the splintering cliffs of Alentus toward the hull ofThe Nostosdipped and sloshed into the waves beneath them. Ander could only watch as Leighton and Katrin threaded the line through hoisting pins on both sides of the boat. They tied off with a bowline, creating a loop on each of the four pins that allowed men of the crew to haul the skiff up the starboard side. Usually they would throw a rope ladder over the rail and all but one person in the small dinghy would climb up to ease the weight that needed to be hauled, but neither Ander nor his sister would be able to ascend without aid.
Maybe it was a nod to how much his crew respected him that they allowed Katrin, Farah, and Leighton to remain, not wanting him to feel even more useless than he felt he was. Or perhaps they were worried his temper would crack, that he would lash out at them for belittling their captain and assign them all swabbing duty for the week. Either way, the skiff rose from the water with strain, but managed to lift high enough that each of them could slide over the rail onto the deck.
Katrin reached out her hand to Ander, grimacing as he swatted it away. It was soul-crushing enough that she’d risked her life for him—that they all had—but she’d had to help him walk all the way to the Alentian cliffs; he would not allow her one more inconvenience. He was perfectly capable of hauling himself onto his own ship. Had done it thousands of times before and after battle—after bones had been broken with flesh wounds much deeper than those he bore presently—why should this time be any different?
The splintered wood of the rail ofThe Nostoswas calming, even though Ander’s bones ached to collapse to the very deck that would soon be beneath his feet. For a time he assumed he’d never make it back aboard his ship, resolved that he would die beneath the stone castle of Alentus in darkness with a knife to his heart, rather than how he always thought he’d go—caressed by the cool waves of the sea.
Lost in his thoughts, Ander didn’t notice the pool of water beneath his feet as he barely managed to swing himself over and into the ship. He was already so shaky, using every ounce of energy he had left to hoist his body, that when he landed on the slippery deck nothing could stop him from sliding right out to the floor below.
“Skatá,” he cursed under his breath, trying to catch his bearings by grasping for an old mead barrel with little to no success.
His crew could not see him like this. He was the captain. He was supposed to be strong.
Kristos made a move toward him, but halted just as quickly. His friend knew better than to help the captain of the ship without request. At least one person was giving him some semblance of pride.
“Please…let me help you,” Katrin’s soft voice floated over as she bent down beside him.
“You have done enough,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
Katrin had. She should rest. Dark circles formed beneath her eyes and her skin was peppered with dirt and sweat. Was her walking into danger worth it? Worth him being back aboard this ship? Gods, if Kohl had stopped them, or worse, if Khalid and Edmund had gotten a hold of her, what horrors could have ensued?
