The last image finally shattered through the storm in her mind, leaving her gasping. Hot tears streamed through cold sweat.
She stared toward the canopy.
Please, make it stop, she willed to her winged brother. You’ve had your blood. Is that not enough?
Jace stood next to her and waved an arm through the air. He yelled at the bat. “Leave her be! Off with you already!”
Perhaps heeding his command, her brother swept higher and slipped into the deeper shadows of the canopy. Still, the bat did not leave. Dark wings glided in slow circles above them.
Jace dropped next to Nyx. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head, unsure. She didn’t trust herself to speak, lest she end up screaming. Still, she took Jace’s hand and squeezed his fingers, letting him know she was unharmed, only shaken. She needed a few breaths to root herself back into her body after the dizzying panoply of the town’s attack. It was as if she had been living it—through sight, sound, and scent, viewed through a hundred eyes.
It was too much, on too many levels. She felt dizzied and sickened. More than ever, her newly returned vision felt more like a curse than a miracle.
She gazed back up at her lost brother, knowing he had merged her into that battle, joining her to the great mind shared by the tribe of M?r bats. With the pound of her heart quieting, she remembered something more, something she had sensed throughout the terrifying experience. It was as if a larger pair of eyes had been staring back at her throughout the ordeal, far more intent than the little red embers of her brother’s gaze. In those moments, she caught the barest glimpse of something far older, ageless and dark, cold and unknowable. That brief brush against that vastness terrified her, but it also left her feeling hollowed and empty when it ended.
What did it mean?
She shivered and moved deeper into Jace’s arms.
As she sought his comfort, the distant cries changed in timbre, slowly growing quieter, though interrupted by occasional sharper spats. Then even those faded over the course of several breaths. What didn’t stop were the screams of the dying and wounded echoing across the water.
She looked to the pair of dark wings circling across the dappled canopy.
Is it over? Please let it be over.
There was no answer from above.
Instead, her father leaned back without turning around. His voice was low and urgent and full of warning. “Git down, the both of you. Right quick now.”
* * *
NYX STAYED LOW in the sledge, shielded by the high back of the drover’s bench. After heeding her dah’s warning and dropping into hiding, she had peeked out long enough to see a wide raft being poled in their direction, coming from ahead.
Jace crouched next to her.
She understood her dah’s urgent instruction. The raft was crowded with a clutch of hard-looking men. From their ragged wear and knotted beards, they were deep swampers, the whole lot of them.
With the exception of one figure who was held at knifepoint at the front of the raft.
“Hey ho,” her dah called over. “What’re you bastards doing with my son over there?”
It was Ablen, her eldest brother. One of his eyes was swollen and bloody. He had a dagger at his throat.
The raft poled closer, moving to block their path. Gramblebuck could have easily crashed through them, shrugging the raft aside, but Bastan whistled and nickered for the old bullock to slow and hold. The men on the raft carried rusty fishhooks and long hunting spears.
The one threatening with the knife called past Ablen’s shoulder, “Where be your daughter, Polder?”
“My lass?”
“Aye.”
Her dah scrunched his face and swung around the bench. He pointed back the way they had come. “Up at school. Whatdya think, you sarding arse? She’s not mucking about these swamps any longer.” With his back still turned to the raft, he secretly pointed to the left and whispered to Nyx and Jace, “O’er the side when we pass ’em. Hang from the rail.”
She nodded her understanding.
Her dah faced the raft again, raising his voice. “What’s all this bloody business about anyway?”
“Goren wants you. All of you brought before him.”
Nyx cringed at the mention of the highmayor’s name.
“What for?” her dah called back.
“It’s none of your business what for. We been paid to git you all to ’im.”
Her dah shrugged heavily. “Sard that. Nyxie ain’t here, and I got a herd of bullocks to git boxed up before those winged daemons spook ’em clear to the coast. And don’t think I don’t know you, Krask. I can right near tell who you are from your stank. If I lose any of my herd cuz of this, you’ll be a-paying, let me tell you.” He swung an arm. “All youse will.”
“That ain’t our prob—”
“It will be when I bring it up to the Council of Eight.”
Silence followed, except for some furtive muttering.
Her dah, ever the negotiator, clearly decided to take advantage of their hesitation. “Tell ya what, Krask. Let my two boys take the sledge to the rear paddock and get everything squared away. I’ll go with ya all instead and pull that thorn out of Goren’s fat arse. How ’bout that?”
More muttering followed. Finally, Krask yelled over, “We take you and this here boy. That other ’un over there looks big enough to handle the paddock himself. That’s what I say, Polder.”
Her dah rubbed his chin in a familiar posture of deep pondering, then lowered his arm. “Fair enough.” He spat over the side. “Let’s git to it then.”
Bastan looked hard at the old man, who waved him onward. With a muttered complaint, Bastan gave a light snap of the reins to get Gramblebuck ambling forward and skirting to the right.
Her dah whispered out of the side of his mouth to Nyx and Jace, “Off with ya both.”
Nyx stayed low behind the high back of the drover’s bench and scooted with Jace to the rail. She hiked over the lip and lowered herself over the side until she was hanging by her hands from the ironwood rail. Her legs dragged through the dark waters below. Jace did the same with some grunting that was covered by a loud belch from Gramblebuck.
The swampers poled their raft up on the sledge’s other side.
Her dah shifted across the bench toward them and called down to Ablen, “How ya doing, boy?”
“Ah, ya know, Dah,” he answered drily. “If a bullock ain’t pissing on your head, it ain’t a day’s work, is it?”
“True, very true.” Her dah hopped off the sledge and onto the raft, then called up to Bastan, “I’ll see ya back at the house.”
Bastan waved and got Gramblebuck moving at a faster clip. He kept the sledge angled to keep Nyx and Jace hidden from view. Once they rounded a dense copse of tanglepine, the raft fell out of sight. Nyx and Jace finally climbed back up.
Her brother frowned at her. “Whadya think that was all about?”
Nyx glanced toward the town buried behind them. “It’s because of me. Because of the death of the highmayor’s son.” She swallowed hard. “I fear he means to turn the blame on me.”
And he might be right to do so.
Jace shook his head, his face worried. “Not just you, Nyx.”