Ghistings, hide me from Sooths like Lirr? Like Samuel himself? Demery had mentioned Juliette concealing me after the attack, but I hadn’t understood until now the extent and uses of that power.
We hastened along the bridge, which joined the top of a wall around the back of the building. On one side, the backs of warehouses cast the shadow of winches, pulleys and ropes. On the other side, the wall dropped down into Hesten’s vast shipyards, descending all the way to the frozen waters of the bay and the distant bulwark of ancient, sheltering stone walls.
Ships of various sizes slept in cradles, some nearly finished, others looking like the ribs of felled giants, topped with fresh snow. Masts cut up into the bruised sky, sailless and spiderwebbed with ropes. Masses of timber and other materials were stacked everywhere beneath canvas and numerous buildings lay dark, waiting for warmer days and a flood of hands and shipwrights.
But the ghistings? They were not asleep. My eyes flew towards a flutter of life, hidden behind the walls of a stone warehouse.
A gate barred our path. Rosser kicked it open and I ducked through, preceding him down a staircase to ground level. We joined a badly maintained path through waist-deep drifts of snow and were halfway across the yard before I wondered where the guards were. But there were gunshots in the streets—their attention wasn’t in here.
The warehouse rose above us and our path ended at a heavy door. Rosser growled, jiggling the padlock and scanning for another entrance.
I ran ahead, peering around the side of the building. A smaller door sulked in the shadows.
“There!” I pointed.
Rosser passed me, eyeing the barrier. Without further deliberation he threw his shoulder into it. The impact echoed loud in the quiet, but the door didn’t move.
“Together,” I said, arranging myself next to him and bracing my boots in the snow.
He looked at me, a grin ghosting across his face, then he nodded.
We slammed into the barrier at the same time. It gave with a crack—loud and sudden, but that couldn’t be helped. We plunged into a darkness so rife with the otherworldly that I choked.
We stumbled to a halt, panting and stomping. A slice of twilit night spilled around Rosser and I, along with a gust of wintery air and scudding snow.
The light half illuminated Rosser’s face. He smiled between gasps. “You should be safe here. For now.”
I nodded. The presences of the ghistings, still hidden in the dark, gathered around me like a heavy fog. It smothered my awareness of the outside world and dampened my fear; it felt like the Wold. It felt like home.
But as Rosser moved back to the door, apprehension nudged me. I didn’t trust him or want him to stay. But the thought of being here alone was…
Sister.
The murmur sliced through my rambling thoughts. Deeper in the warehouse, I made out the speaker—a huge, anthropomorphic figurehead. The scent of wood, sap and oils hung in the air despite the cold, and shavings crunched beneath my feet.
“I am going after Lirr.” Rosser’s voice pried into my ears.
Sister.
“Now?”
“Yes, he lost our trail, but he is too close.” There was a question in his eyes as he looked at me. “I can come back for you, once he is dead.”
I knew his words should mean more to me than they did, but I was a stranger in my own head.
Sister.
“Can you hear them?” I asked.
Rosser followed the direction of my gaze, then looked back at my face, new lines of concern appearing. “No. I have to go, Mary.”
I nodded without a word. Rosser followed my gaze one last time, the shadow deepening between his brows, then he stepped into the night.
“Wait.” My thoughts snagged and I reached into my pocket. I held out the Mereish coin. “Take this.”
His expression slackened, the dark circles beneath his eyes twitching in renewed fatigue. Then he plucked the coin from my palm. I barely felt his fingers, my skin was so cold.
“Thank you,” he said. Unease flashed across his face, then he saluted with his fist closed about the coin, and retreated into the night. “I will return.”
I turned back to the figureheads and closed the broken door. Darkness wrapped around me but I didn’t have the presence of mind to fear it. The murmurs filled my mind.
Sister, they said.
“Siblings,” I answered, because the word felt right.
I began to move through them, and as I went, specters formed of unnatural light, highlighting the curves and edges of their figureheads. The face of a nude warrior-saint looked down upon me as I trailed past, his eyes as glossy and empty as Harpy’s. Another nearly identical pair of eyes surveyed me from above the carved maw of a dragon, the spectral reflection of its head ducking down to sniff me as I passed. Another saint with bare breasts and the legs of a lizard looked down her nose at me, spear and staff crossed above her head. A stylized wolf leered. A forgotten god of the sea smiled with barnacle teeth.
The voices came again, and their glossy eyes watched.
Sister. Sister. Sister.
Time slipped into irrelevance. I forgot I was cold, and my shivering ceased. The ghistings appeared fascinated by me—they asked me questions, which I answered, though I couldn’t remember what we said.
Eventually, the wolf slipped out of her figurehead and began to prowl around my skirts. She considered me, opal eyes sifting through flesh and blood and bone and looking… deeper.
Free us.
Her words anchored in my mind, clear and precise and compelling.
Free us. Free us with fire.
The door crashed open. The ghistings vanished and I spun to see newcomers, bundled in landsman’s clothes. One had a dragonfly lantern in his hand, another a cudgel. Guards.
Usti words assaulted me. I stepped back, disorientation replaced with genuine misunderstanding. And their volume—Saint, they were loud. We’d certainly attract attention. If Lirr was as close as Samuel had said…
“I’m not Usti,” I protested, speaking just loud enough to be heard. “Please quiet down!”
“What are you doing here?” someone demanded in accented Aeadine, fae lanternlight filling her indignant expression. “You’re not allowed to be here! How did you get in?”
“What are you wearing?” another asked, more heavily accented.
Cold leapt back to my awareness, and with it, remembrance of how I was dressed—in a party ensemble, panniers wide, hair falling from its pins. I must look ridiculous, hiding in the warehouse like this.
“There were gunshots in the streets,” I replied, straightening my shoulders. “I ran. Please be quiet!”
Usti scoffing and curses were the only response. I licked my lips, quickly navigating the situation. I had moments before they forced me to leave, and I couldn’t let that happen.
But the situation was already far beyond my control.
Gunshots rang out. Two of the guards went down in heaps and the last turned, lantern swinging. The butt of a musket caved in his face with a nauseating crunch.
More forms flooded the doorway and surrounded me in the dark. Lirr came last, swift and brusque.
I blinked. Samuel claimed to have injured Lirr, but though there was a gash in his coat, he showed no signs of pain.
Stooping, the pirate picked up the guard’s fallen dragonfly lantern and opened its door with a slow, considerate care that seemed entirely out of place. The small creatures immediately flew free, streaking off and taking their glow with them.