Page 108 of Skalterra By Nightmare
Liam tried to run through practice questions with me at lunch, but we were both distracted with our own worries, and ended up staring out at the water in silence more than anything. Still, the company was nice, and he was polite enough to not make me talk about my feelings.
Gams mentioned an early bedtime to prepare for my interview in the morning, and I happily took her up on the suggestion. The sooner I could be in Skalterra, the better.
I got comfortable under my covers while Jonquil took her spot on the foot of the bed, and then I waited until my bedroom twisted and fell, leaving me standing atop the bluffs we’d climbed the night before.
“We’ll reach Tulyr in a few hours if we hurry,” Galahad was explaining to Ferrin nearby. “The plateau is safe. It might be a good place to stay an extra day and let everybody rest up.”
“Either you’re growing soft or you’re tired too,” Ferrin laughed back.
“Just-Wren!” Orla appeared at my side, laden with her and Fana’s packs. “Are you ready to see Tulyr? Not many people ever get to visit. I’ll bet you’re the first Keldorian since it fell fifty years ago, though most Skalterrans don’t get to see it either since it’s a dead city.”
“A dead city?” a voice called out. We whipped around to look up at a young woman standing on a ledge fifteen feet overhead. Her long silver hair caught on the wind, and she glared down at us through icy gray eyes set against smooth tanned skin. Her silver-plated armor made it hard to notice that one of her legs wasn’t a leg at all, but a prosthesis built of glowing silver Skal. “Is that what Galahad told you?”
Tiernan loosed a golden javelin at the woman, but she raised a hand, and the weapon shattered in a burst of light when it met her palm. Tiernan staggered backwards in shock.
“Don’t waste your magick. She’s a Skalbreaker,” Galahad growled. He hobbled forward to stand between us and the woman. “I wondered when you’d be out to meet us, Iseult. It’s been a while. Your mother’s armor fits you well.”
“Don’t flatter me, Grandfather. You know it won’t gain you entry to Tulyr. Turn back now, and I won’t kill you where you stand.”
26. Medieval Architecture
Iseult stepped from the ledge and dropped into the middle of our camp. Her leg of Skalmagick took the brunt of her landing, and her armor clinked as she straightened up to look around at us.
Tiernan procured a golden sword and leveled it at her throat, but Iseult grabbed the blade with her hand, and the weapon dissolved.
“Stop wasting Skal, Tiernan. I told you, she’s a Skalbreaker. She’ll destroy anything you make.”Galahad pushed Tiernan back and approached his granddaughter. “I’m here with the Divine Sovereign, Iseult. You need to give us passage.”
“The law is the law,” Iseult said. “Anyone who leaves Tulyr isn’t welcome back. That includes you, Grandfather.”
“A Grimguard is after us. Let us refuel at the Sanctum and—”
“You led the Grimguards here?” The light of the rising moons bounced off the curve of her armor and caught in her silver hair. She seemed young, but she radiated ethereal power. Even Ferrin looked intimidated by her, keeping an arm out to shield Fana.
“We think we lost him, but—”
“Then the Grimguardisn’tafter you?” Iseult lunged towards me, and I tried to stumble away, but she caught me by my wrist. The Skal-made blood in my veins buzzed at her touch. “Which is it, Grandfather? Tell me before I break your pretty Nightmare.”
I fought to break free from her grip, trying to channel power into my muscles, but it was as if her touch had formed an invisible barrier around me, making it impossible to pull any extra magick away from Galahad. The air crackled with electricity that hummed through my every particle, and while it wasn’t painful, I could feel it pressing against me in every direction, ready to ignite.
“Galahad?” I asked, frozen to the spot. If Iseult made me burst into a million, glowing bits like she had Tiernan’s weapons, would it count as another death in Skalterra?
“Leave her be,” Galahad said. Iseult’s eyes raked over my palm, and she yanked on my arm to show it off to the others.
“You gave her the curse?” she asked.
“Curse?” Ferrin’s eyes narrowed at Galahad. “What curse?”
“The Curse of Tulyr.” Iseult’s lips twisted. “To help preserve Tulyr’s location, our nocturmancers would put the curse on their Nightmares. If they die in Skalterra, they die in Keldori, and our secrets die with them.”
“What?” Orla pushed forward and pried my hand away from Iseult’s. The buzzing in my blood quieted, and the pressure that had pushed down on me a moment ago let up. Orla ran her fingers over the scars on my skin. “It can’t be true. Just-Wren has already died. There can’t be a curse.”
I pulled my hand away, rubbing my wrist. Orla stared at me with wide green eyes, silently begging me to tell her I was okay.
“She kept ashing herself when we first brought her here.” Galahad shrugged. “So I set a limit on how many times she can die, and here she is, better behaved than ever.”
“You should have told us,” Ferrin growled. “She’s just a kid, Galahad!”
“As is the Sovereign.” Galahad pointed at Fana.
