16

 

 

For a moment, Rysn was transported back to the Reshi Isles.

Falling.

Falling.

Hitting water.

For a moment she was in that deep again, after having plunged from such an incredible height. Numb. Watching the light retreat. Unable to move. Unable to save herself.

Then the two moments separated. She wasn’t in the Reshi Isles; she was in the frigid ocean near Akinah. The shock of the cold made her want to gasp or scream. Fortunately, she kept her mouth closed as Cord—swimming mostly with her legs—propelled them downward.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Fearspren trailed behind Rysn like bubbles. Cord was an unexpectedly powerful swimmer. But being carried this way, pulled into the dark, made Rysn panic. It brought back not only the terror of her near-death experience, but the helplessness of the awful weeks that had followed.

Previously mundane acts—like getting out of bed, visiting the washroom, or even getting herself something to eat—had suddenly become near-impossible. The resulting fear, frustration, and helplessness had almost overwhelmed Rysn. She’d spent days lying in bed, feeling that she should have died rather than becoming such a burden.

She had surmounted those emotions. With effort, and help from her parents and Vstim, she’d realized there was so much she could still do. She could make her life better. She was not a burden. She was a person.

However, as the ocean swallowed her again, she found her old fears alive and well, festering inside. The abject sense of helplessness. The terror at being entirely at the mercy of other people.

And then she saw the spren.

Not the fearspren, but luckspren—like arrowheads with stubby, rippling bodies. They darted through the water around her and Cord. Dozens. Hundreds. Light from the clouded sky above vanished, and Rysn’s ears hurt so much she was forced to equalize by blowing with her nose pinched.

But those spren were glowing, lighting the way, urging them forward.

I know you, spren, she thought. She should have panicked, should have worried about drowning. Instead she watched the spren. How did I fall from so high and not die? Everyone called it a miracle. . . .

She twisted in Cord’s grip. The spren led them toward a shimmering light emanating from some rocks ahead. A small tunnel?

At last Rysn noticed her lungs beginning to burn. She slipped out of Cord’s grasp and turned, then pulled herself along the rocks. Cord came behind, and the spren ushered them, guided them through the dark depths until—

Rysn pulled herself up into the air. Cord emerged a moment later.

Rysn gasped for breath, trembling in the darkness. What had happened to the light? The spren? Suddenly it was completely dark, though the sound of their breath echoed against nearby walls. They seemed to have emerged into some kind of cavern under the island.

Rysn grabbed some rocks at the side of the pool, clinging to them with her right arm as she reached to the money pouch in her left skirt pocket for spheres. She fiddled in it, then brought out a bright diamond mark, gripping it through the thin cloth of her safehand glove.

The light revealed Cord, her red hair plastered to her skin, holding to the rocks nearby. They were indeed in a cavern—well, a tunnel that ended in a small pool.

Cord climbed up onto the rocks, then helped Rysn out. They sat for a moment, coughing, breathing deeply.

“Are they still here?” Rysn eventually asked. “The luckspren?”

“Apaliki’tokoa’a,” Cord said, pointing in the air, though Rysn saw nothing. “They appeared to you?”

“Yes,” Rysn whispered. “Under the water.”

“They guided us, sped us as we swam . . .” Cord said. “My father has always had the blessings of spren. They used to strengthen his arm, when he drew the Bow of Hours in the Peaks, but I’ve never known such blessings.” Her finger traced a path leading down the tunnel. “They are going this way.”

“The creatures that came onto the ship,” Rysn said. “Nikli . . . whatever he is. They can swim. I doubt we’re safe down here.”

“Perhaps there is a way out,” Cord said. “I will look?”

Rysn nodded, though she didn’t have much hope. During her travels with her babsk, they’d visited the Purelake, where he’d made her read a book on the local people. There had been an entire chapter on how the place drained during storms, and though she hadn’t been able to make much sense of it, she was pretty certain a chamber this far down couldn’t have air unless there was no way for it to escape upward.

That meant they were cornered. Rysn settled her back against a stone, her legs stretched in front of her. Cord hurried off, dripping water and carrying a sphere for light. Rysn fished in her pockets. What did she have of use? A few more spheres and some ruby fabrials?

For a moment, she thought they were from spanreeds. But no, these were the rubies from her chair, secured in metal housings with straps to tie them into place. They were paired with a set on the anchor rigged to the mast of the ship.

Strange, to think how optimistic she’d been only a short time ago. Before she’d led the entire crew to their doom. Would Radiants Lopen and Huio be able to save them, maybe?

And so you’re helpless again? she thought. Just sitting around, waiting for someone else to come and take care of you?

Vstim had put her in command for a reason. He trusted her. Couldn’t she do herself the same honor?

“Rysn!” Cord called, her voice echoing in the tunnel. The Horneater woman appeared a short time later, panting, her eyes wide. Her figure threw crazy shadows across the walls as she waved the hand holding the sphere. “You must see!”

“See what?” Rysn asked.

“Treasure,” Cord said. “Plate, Rysn. Shardplate. The gods heard my prayers and have led me to him!” She stooped to heave Rysn over her shoulder again.

“Wait,” Rysn said. “Let’s try these, maybe?” She held up a ruby and activated it with a twist of part of the housing. That left it hanging in the air.

Cord ran off, then returned shortly with a small bench and an antiquated spear. That worked fairly well; using the leather straps on the fabrials, Rysn tied them to the legs of the small bench. When Cord lifted the bench and Rysn activated the fabrials, they made it hover. It did rise and fall slightly with the movements of the ship up above, but with the still ocean around here, that variation wasn’t much.

A short time later, Rysn poled herself through the air with the spear, hovering alongside Cord. Though the place where they’d emerged had been unworked stone, the next section of the tunnel had been carved into a corridor. On its walls they found strange murals. People with hands forward, falling through what appeared to be portals, emerging into . . . light?

Not far past these, they entered a small room. It was perhaps fifteen feet square, and Rysn’s eyes were immediately drawn to the incredible mural that dominated the far wall. It depicted a sun being shattered into pieces.

Cord showed her the set of Shardplate, which had been carefully piled in one corner of the small chamber, along with some ornate weapons and clothing. None of those seemed to be Shardweapons, but . . . those were Soulcaster devices, arranged in little boxes by the wall. Four were on a bench identical to the one Rysn floated upon, and four were on the ground, probably moved by Cord.