Duskfall (36 page)

As they drew closer to the main gate, Winter realized it was actually a massive bridge that spanned the length of a wide moat. Two heavy chains ran from the far corners of the bridge to the top of the gate. The water was filthy—the stench of it assaulted her nose even from this distance.

“What kind of bridge is that?” Jane asked. The woman carried an abnormally large pack, far larger than anyone else’s.
Typical noble
, Winter thought.
Probably didn’t want to leave home without her entire wardrobe
. Winter was surprised Jane hadn’t tried to make her or Lian carry it, or the Goddessguard for that matter. Winter had caught Jane staring at her more than once, although for what reason, Winter could not fathom. The woman was certainly odd.

“Drawbridge,” Knot said. “Moves on a pivot. It can be drawn up to the entrance, blocking the gate and eliminating the bridge.”

Winter looked at the contraption with interest. She had never seen anything like it in Khale.

“Why don’t we have those?” Lian asked.

“We do,” Knot responded. “But not in most cities. They’re specific to castles and fortresses, and a few places in the south. Triah used to have one, but the city grew so large the bridge became obsolete.”

“Do they actually work?” Lian asked.

Astrid snorted. Winter looked at the vampire, who rolled her eyes.

“They do their job,” Knot said. “But most would say they are too expensive and elaborate to place at every entrance to the city.”

“There’s one of these things at every entrance?” Winter asked.

“Here, there is. They divert water from the river, sending it into the moat and around the city.”

“What do we do when we get to the entrance? Will they just let us in?”

“Hopefully.”

Winter raised her eyebrows. “Hopefully?”

Knot glanced at Cinzia. “Having a priestess and her Goddessguard along should ease our entry. But you and Lian need to keep your hoods up. Astrid too, for that matter.”

“Is it just me or is he already trying to divide our party into social classes?” Astrid muttered. Winter shook her head; she had yet to catch on to the vampire’s humor, though Knot seemed to have done so easily enough.

Hopefully Knot was right and Cinzia and Kovac would be enough. Even so, Winter couldn’t help but feel nervous the closer they got to the gatehouse. Roden had slaughtered most of its tiellans decades ago, and sent the remainder on a death march through the Sorensan Pass in the middle of winter. If they hated tiellans that much, what would they do to Winter and Lian if they were discovered?

Winter reached into the pouch, fingering one of the crystals.
I should save it
, she thought.
At least until I know we’re actually in danger.

And if the danger came without warning? If she already had an arrow in her chest before she could reach into the pouch? Though she tried to deny it, she felt the pull of the frost, grasping her soul, her guts, pulling her towards it. Winter took a crystal out and swallowed it.

In moments, power filled her. Pain left and insecurities fled, although the high didn’t seem to be as powerful as it once was. The freedom, the sense of wholeness that had filled her when she first took frost, or even the night she bought the crystals from Mazille, eluded her. The connection she felt with the Sfaera around her was still there, but weaker. And the time that passed in between taking
faltira
didn’t seem to be getting any better, either. She felt worse. She had hoped at first that
faltira
would help her connect with her companions, but if anything Winter felt more distant from them.

She had taken a frost crystal the night before in the Sorensan Mountains. She had been trying to sleep, but memories of Pranna and Navone plagued her, so she did the only thing she knew would take those memories away. But the pain had only been dulled; Winter had not felt as free and clear as she once had.

She wondered whether the
faltira
she had purchased was flawed in some way. Perhaps she could find purer frost in Tir, that could bring back the freedom, the wholeness she sought.

Winter looked ahead as they approached the drawbridge, and saw two guards in heavy armor over light-blue tunics, both holding long, scythe-like spears.

“State your business, Priestess,” one of the guards said to Cinzia. The man had a giant, ugly mole on one cheek. Winter tried not to stare. He was tall, and Cinzia had to look up to glare at him. “I am on Canta’s business, and beyond your questioning. Or perhaps you’d like to explain to the local matron why you’ve delayed us from meeting with her on time?”

The guard immediately looked down. The shadow of his helm hid his mole, for which Winter was grateful. She couldn’t stand to look at the thing any longer. “No, Priestess,” the guard said. “Please, enter. May Canta bless your path.”

“And yours,” Cinzia said, “should the Goddess so choose.”

Cinzia walked past the guards and onto the drawbridge. Winter and the others followed.
Perhaps this priestess will be more valuable than I thought.

Another set of guards stood at the gate, but they only stared straight ahead as they walked past into the city. Winter stopped for a moment to catch her breath, her body vibrating with adrenaline and
faltira
.

“If I’d known you could be useful, I would have suggested you accompany us in the first place. Your goddess wouldn’t have even had to intervene,” Astrid said to Cinzia.

Cinzia raised an eyebrow. “Your mistake.”

Astrid glanced at Knot. “I like her,” she said with a grin. “By the way, did anyone notice the mole that took up half that guard’s cheek? Disgusting. I’m just glad none of you have a mole that size. Wouldn’t be able to travel with you if you did.”

Winter almost smiled. Perhaps this vampire wasn’t so bad, after all.

Still feeling the frost burn through her—she now regretted taking it so hastily—Winter turned her attention to the city. While the outside had looked strange, the inside was truly something foreign. The buildings were predominantly painted in bright blues and whites, but also greens, violets, and yellows. The fact that almost
every
building was painted made her jaw drop. In Khale that much paint would cost a fortune. Every so often she glimpsed a larger building, rising three or four stories above the rest. These taller structures appeared to be a series of tiered squares, one rising above the other, ornately decorated roofs or balconies wrapping around the buildings at each new level.

“We’re definitely not in Khale anymore,” Astrid whispered. Winter nodded in amazement. She had always thought Roden would be drab and violent.

“Sure ain’t,” Knot muttered. “I don’t want to be caught out in the streets. Finding an inn is our first priority. Best stick together.”

In the distance, Winter caught a glimpse of the familiar peaked rooftop of a Cantic chapel, a stark contrast to the other buildings in the city. Winter felt drawn to the building, despite the animosity she felt towards it.

There’s nothing for you there
, she told herself.

“We should keep away from the chapel,” Cinzia said quietly. “Their questions would not be… constructive.”

They turned down the next street. Winter took one last look at the chapel, then followed. Partway down the street Knot stopped, suddenly. He was looking at an open unmarked door.

“I know this place,” he murmured. Then, before Winter or anyone else could say anything, he walked inside.

Winter followed him into a hallway with four doors leading off it, three closed and one open at the far end, through which Knot passed. Winter followed and saw a small common room of sorts. Odd that there had been no sign outside to indicate there was an inn here. Knot approached the innkeeper. He was old and withered, his skin in folds and his long mustache gray, but his eyes were alert.

Winter motioned for the rest of the group to stay in the hallway as she walked slowly towards Knot.

“By the Goddess, Madzin, it has been far too long,” the old man was saying. He looked up at Knot with a frown, although Winter had a sense that this frown was the man’s way of smiling. Her father had been that way.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Knot said. “Got rooms to spare tonight? My friends and I arrived later than we’d hoped, and we’re looking for a place to rest our heads.”

The old man raised his gray, bushy eyebrows. “I’d be offended if you stayed anywhere else.” Watching the man, Winter had the impression he wasn’t joking. The man glanced at Winter.

Knot followed the man’s gaze. “She’s with me,” he said.

The old man nodded, eying Winter suspiciously. “Not the company I’d expect you to keep, but I guess you never know. How ‘with you’ is she?” he asked.

“She knows everything,” Knot said. Winter couldn’t help but see the irony in the statement.

“Very well, then. How many others are with you?”

“Need three rooms. Your prices changed?”

The man looked at Knot strangely. Winter immediately felt uneasy.

“For you, Madzin, they’re free. Just as they’ve always been,” the man said, though his voice had taken a different tone. The man leaned toward Knot, and Winter tensed. The frost was fading from her system, but she still had a dagger at her waist, should it come to that.
And
, she thought,
I could always take another crystal.
A part of her almost hoped for trouble, just so she could have the excuse.

“And your safebox is secure. I’ve seen to it myself.”

“Can’t be too sure of anything these days, can you?” Knot chuckled, and Winter was surprised at the naturalness of it. She was almost sure that Knot didn’t know—or perhaps even recognize—the man, but he was playing along well enough. The man joined in with Knot’s laughter, and Winter relaxed.

The old innkeeper handed Knot something and Knot motioned for Winter to follow him back into the hallway where the others were waiting. He opened one of the closed doors and led them into a small room.

“Who was that man?” Winter asked.

“Don’t know,” Knot said. “He recognized me, called me by a name I’ve heard before. Same name the Borderguard in Navone used. Face wasn’t familiar, though.”

“How many names is that?” Lian asked. “Three, now?”

“Yes,” Knot said, his tone even. “Knot, Lathe, and Madzin.”

“So which one
are
you?” Cinzia asked.

Knot shrugged. “I’ve got something I need to take care of. Cinzia, Jane, and Kovac, the room next door has two beds—you can take that one.

“Winter and Astrid, you’ll be in this one. Lian and I will take the third.”

Winter rolled her eyes. It would have been too much to expect her husband to share a room with her.

“I’ll be gone for a while,” Knot continued, “so everyone get comfortable.” His gaze rested on Winter. “I’d like to speak with you when I return, Winter. If that’s all right.”

Winter shrugged and said nothing, although a faint nervousness crept through her gut. She wasn’t ready to tell him, yet. She couldn’t.

“Wait,” Lian said, as Knot headed for the door. “How do we know this place is safe?”

“We don’t,” Knot said. “So stay on guard.”

Then he was gone.

The others slowly dispersed. Astrid claimed she wanted to explore the city. Jane’s gaze lingered on Winter as she left, a gesture Winter promptly ignored.

Don’t know why I’m getting so much attention
, she thought to herself.
I’m by far the least interesting person around
.

Then she was alone with Lian.

She looked at him uneasily. It was the first time they had been alone since Cineste. The room was small; from where Winter sat on the bed, she could almost reach out and touch him as he leaned against the opposite wall. Winter realized that her hand was already in the small leather pouch at her belt, fingering another crystal.

She drew her hand out quickly; she hadn’t even noticed it snake its way down there.

“Why haven’t you told him?” Lian asked.

Winter had dreaded this conversation, from the moment she chose not to tell Knot about
faltira
.

“Why haven’t
you
?” Winter probably would have told someone already, if their positions were reversed.

“Ain’t my place. You know that. He’s your husband, he needs to hear it from you.”

Winter looked down at her lap. “Why does he need to hear it? I can do a few things now that I couldn’t do before; I don’t see why I need to make a scene of it.”

“It’s more than that,” Lian said. “You’ve changed. I told you this frost stuff could mess you up. You didn’t listen to me, and that was your choice. But… Canta rising, Winter, think of
Navone
. You can’t ignore what happened there.”

Winter felt her face flush. “Don’t pretend you understand what happened in Navone. What happened there wasn’t my
fault
, Lian. It wasn’t me.”

You don’t need to be angry at him
, she told herself.
He’s only trying to help you
. But she couldn’t contain the anger. She couldn’t stop it.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Winter said.

“I don’t need to understand it to see that you need help,” Lian said. He sat next to her on the bed. Winter felt uncomfortable, his arm against her own, his thigh touching hers.

“Why don’t you just leave,” Winter muttered. “Go start your stupid revolution. Save the tiellans.”

Lian snorted. “That can wait.”

“Return the tiellans to their former glory, or whatever. Make us what we were during the Age of Marvels. Do something that’s worth your time, Lian.”

“I know what’s worth my time and what ain’t.”

“I’m not,” Winter whispered.

Lian sighed. “I just feel like you’re… like you’re drowning, again. But there’s no way for me to jump in after you, this time.”

“I don’t need you to save me.”

Lian threw up his hands. “Someone has to! That’s all you seem to need from anybody. I saved you from drowning. Your father tried to save you from the life in Pranna. Knot was going to save you from the same thing. And now, someone needs to save you again.”

“I don’t need
saving
.” Winter tried to remain calm. Losing her temper would do no good.