organic curves of a seashell. Five akhoz crouched nearby, but they weren’t watching him; they were watching the far side of the circle where Muqallad stood with Sariya and dozens of Hratha. Hunger seemed to fill the akhoz. He could see it in the way they crouched, like wolves sensing weakness in their prey.
Nikandr knew that Atiana was not herself. She was strained. She was under attack, and through his soulstone he knew that Mother and Mileva and Ishkyna were the aggressors.
And suddenly he remembered it all: the landing at the storehouse, the flight from the akhoz, the rush into Vihrosh with Styophan and the remains of his men and the Maharraht. He recalled the battle. He recalled the Hratha. He recalled the sounds of men dying.
And Atiana’s betrayal…
Nyet. Not her betrayal. She had been taken by Sariya, or Muqallad, or both.
For long moments he struggled with what to do. Should he attack Sariya? Attack Muqallad? He reached down to his soulstone to ask for guidance from the ancients.
And realized he had two soulstones.
By all that was good, Ishkyna had given him the key to helping Atiana…
But he had to hurry.
He struggled and was able to reach his hands and knees. One of the akhoz turned at his movement, a girl with shriveled skin along her flat chest and an eyeless face. She pulled her lips back and heaved out a breath that was half snort, half moan. The others turned now. All five were watching him, their arms and necks twitching as he reached his knees.
He could only assume that Atiana’s influence kept them at bay.
But what would happen when he freed her? If he freed her…
She stood on a weathered auctioneer’s stage not far away. It had wooden ramps going up either side and a set of raised steps where the auctioneer would call to the crowd. She was looking toward the Spar, but she didn’t look normal. Her whole body was crooked and tilted, as if she were one of the infirm, nursing pains in her back and hips and knees. And she was shivering-not the shiver of someone who was cold, but the shiver of one with a fever: inconsistent, and occasionally violent.
The sounds of distant battle from the far side of the Spar echoed over Vihrosh. Fire licked up into the sky from among the buildings near the bridge’s landing.
The akhoz turned and looked with hungry expressions. They crept away from Nikandr, leaving him unwatched.
Atiana sank to her knees.
And Nikandr was freed, at least enough to stand and run.
He loped toward the platform, making it to the first of the planks before two of the akhoz noticed and loped after him.
The two necklaces swung from his neck. He felt for Atiana’s more delicate chain and pulled it over his head. When he reached the top of the platform, the first of the akhoz grabbed at his ankle. He fell and slid along the well-worn planks.
“ Nyet!” he cried.
Atiana was only paces away.
He scrabbled, knowing he would never make it to his feet. Something heavy fell on him from behind. He felt searing pain as the akhoz bit the flesh of his shoulder. He swung his elbow and caught it across the temple, sending it momentarily sprawling.
The other akhoz had recovered and snatched his leg, sunk its blood-crusted talons into his flesh.
He cried out as he reached Atiana at last and used his hands to pull her toward him as he kicked the akhoz.
He swung her necklace up and over her head. The nearest akhoz snatched for it, but he was too quick. He pulled it down around her neck as the two akhoz fell upon him, shrieking and baring their teeth.
With Atiana’s concentration fixed wholly on Mileva, Ishkyna swoops in like an owl in the dead of the night, silent with talons bared.
Atiana feels a deep and sudden pain, deeper than she knew pain could go, but as soon as she tries to find Ishkyna, to take control, her sister vanishes.
Atiana returns her attention to Mileva, forcing her to stumble and nearly slip from the aether. Ishkyna returns just in time, but darts away when Atiana reacts. And so it goes, whenever Atiana bends her will on Mileva, Ishkyna returns and then dissipates like so much smoke upon the wind.
You are Ishkyna! Atiana rages, hoping that by invoking her name, her identity, she will once again become lost. You are my sister! Daughter of Radia, a Princess of Vostroma!
I was those things, but I am no longer.
And then, like a slow leak in the hull of a waterborne ship, Atiana realizes how fully Ishkyna has invaded her consciousness. It is nearly complete, but it isn’t like what Atiana did to Nikandr. Rather, it is a cleansing. Ishkyna is pulling back the curtains to allow the light in.
It is Sariya’s influence, however, that tilts the balance back. She has been weakened, but she also knows the end is near, and this gives her strength. She pushes, harder than she ever has before, and traps Ishkyna before she can escape.
Ishkyna rails against the bonds placed against her. Mileva tries to defend her, but with Sariya and Atiana working together, the tide is turning back.
But then Atiana feels something. Her body in Erahm… There is something near her, something so familiar she begins to weep.
Wet salty tears creep along her skin, and it is this one simple sensation that draws her attention to her soulstone- her soulstone. It makes her painfully aware of the connections she’d lost when she’d placed the chain around Ishkyna’s neck. It had been in the kasir only two days before.
Ishkyna and Mileva storm over her.
Do not listen, Sariya calls, defending her as well as she’s able. You are mine!
She wants to listen, to obey, but Nikandr is here… He is with her in Vihrosh. He was the one who put the necklace around her, though how he could have come by it she has no idea.
Mileva is thrown from the aether at last as Sariya assaults her.
Ishkyna, however, draws Atiana fully from her trance. She’s become a force of nature. Willingly or not, she has given up her mortal shell to roam through the currents of the dark like the goedrun in the unseen depths of the sea, and though she was no master before this transition, she is one now. She is at home. She embraces that which she once feared, and with seeming ease clears from Atiana’s mind the final remnants of Sariya’s control.
Sariya knows that this battle has been lost, and she flees, but Ishkyna is ready. She snares Sariya before she can fully retreat. As skilled as Ishkyna is, Atiana knows that she cannot do this alone. She joins her sister, and together they press Sariya. They bear down on her soul.
Sariya lashes out, but she cannot hope to hold them off. Soon, she has been taken, and Atiana shifts her attention to controlling her instead of the other way around. Unknowingly, Sariya has taught her well, and she uses these skills now to tighten her hold on Sariya’s mind.
On the platform in Vihrosh, she pushes herself up to her hands and knees.
Nikandr is next to her. Two akhoz are on top of him, biting, clawing, scratching.
“Stop,” she commands.
In an instant the akhoz obey. They crouch and bark and then whimper.
Beyond them, Sariya and Muqallad are walking toward the platform. Muqallad’s expression is one of confusion as he takes in the scene on the platform. “What’s happened?” He stares at Atiana, but the question is directed at Sariya.
At Atiana’s bidding, Sariya turns to Muqallad. “As I said, the Matri attacked, but there were more than I’d guessed, and they were nearer.”
“Where are they?”
“In the Shattering, but their minds are lost. We won’t be bothered again.”
Muqallad looks into the depths of Atiana’s eyes. She can feel him probing in the aether, trying to determine for himself if all is well, but he is not gifted in the ways of the dark and cannot penetrate her defenses.
Atiana feigns that Sariya’s spell still influences her, and Muqallad seems satisfied.
