Page 265 of The Cradle of Ice
“Prince Kanthe and the Augury … they’ve arrived just now.”
She let out her breath and smiled, though it felt strained. She gazed out the window again, wondering if the two had an explanation for what had happened out there.
She was relieved they were both safe, but that was not the hope she held closest to her heart. Footsteps rose from the other side, tentative, as if unsure to intrude.
She turned to find Chaaen Hrash standing in the doorway that led up to the skrycrow’s nest above them. The shoulders of his robe were speckled with droppings. He carried a missive in hand, tight to his chest.
He read the question burning in Aalia’s face. “From Abbess Shayr,” he confirmed.
“So she lives.” Aalia gripped her hands together. “What of my father?”
Hrash looked down. “He was being moved from the baths to the palacio … when … when…” The Chaaen lifted his face.
His tears finished the message for her.
She turned away, stepped back to the window, and let go of her last hope.
NINETEEN
KALYX ASCENDANT
Nothynge ends that kenn not be reborne, iffe onli in one’s heart.
—Proverb from The Book of El
93
NYX TOPPLED THROUGH darkness. As she spun, she saw the sphere falling away above her and the blackness of the abyss rising toward her. The clash of steel and the scream of Kalyx chased her down. Her heart choked her throat. The plummet ripped at her breath.
She had defeated the Root and freed Shiya, only to be rewarded with the arrival of Kalyx, a beast crafted in the dark lair of the Iflelen. It had shredded the horde-mind and ripped the raash’ke out of the skies.
As if lured by this thought, a shadow swept under her, appearing out of the darkness. Wings spread wide, lit from the wan light.
Kalyx had found her.
There was no escaping it.
She hit the body under her, instinctively clutching to it. Her fingers scrabbled into fur, for anything tangible in the plunging darkness. Her chest struck a warm back, earning a panicked keening under her. She knew that song anywhere.
It wasn’t Kalyx.
Bashaliia …
She clutched harder as he fought to slow her fall, his wings striking hard, battering wildly. But he was far too small to carry her weight, let alone fly her out. Still, he slowed her dive, braking slightly, pushing her more firmly into him.
As he trilled his distress, his bridle-song reverberated off the walls and back to her, revealing what the darkness hid. She caught flashes of the rushing walls and understood his intent.
No, Bashaliia, no …
The walls of the pit were covered in a scaffolding of ladders and wider footways. Bashaliia fought her weight and wafted side to side, beating his wings hard to slow her down even more. But he reached his limit, incapable of braking any further.
He angled to the wall and swept toward the only perch.
Together, they struck one of the platforms. The impact tossed her hard, slamming her hip and skull into the wall. She heard bones break. She slid down to the footway, tangled with Bashaliia. He flapped and keened, trilling in pain.
She crawled off him, climbing blindly past his head. Only a trickle of light reached this far. The huge opening far overhead was no larger than her palm. As she cleared him, she sprawled across the platform. Her left leg was a lance of fire. She felt down its length to the jabbing knot and flare of pain in her shinbone.
Broken.
