Night of Masks and Knives: Book 2 – Chapter 19
When we arrived at the shore, I was speechless at first glance, for I had never seen the Howl and its shores free of docks and trade ships. It was magnificent.
To judge the breadth of such a wonder was impossible. The few speckles of light on the dark outline on the horizon gave the only indication the waters didn’t stretch into eternity. The sea air was fresh, clean, and free of burdens.
The Kryv gathered near a crooked dock where a black longship bobbed in the swells. The curved stempost was shaped into a formidable serpent head, jaws opened and fangs out.
Two angled canvases snapped in the breeze on the mainsail, and every panel was painted dark as pitch. The longship wasn’t grand like exchange ships. The strakes bulged in the middle, and there were notches for only a few oars, not like wartime longships and their dozens of oarsmen. Still meant sailing would be tiresome. A black canvas covered the stempost end of the ship as a place to get a bit of respite from the spray of the sea, I supposed.
Raum helped me on deck, Tova next, and I quickly grabbed the side rail as the Howl cradled the vessel, rocking vigorously both the ship and my insides.
″Over the side,” Kase snapped as he tugged rigging around the mast. “Or you’re cleaning it up.”
″I’m fine.”
His dark illusions surrounded him. Ergo, according to his own confession, he did not trust me.
Once the Kryv settled, Gunnar and Lynx released the rigs, and a few Kryv took to the oars. I closed my eyes; the wind beat against my face as the sea curled around the hull, drawing the longship out to the deep.
″Here,” Tova said ten lengths offshore. She handed me a sprig of mint leaves. “Like I said, it’ll help.”
I tossed a few leaves onto my tongue. “How long will it take to reach Skítkast?”
″Two nights with good wind.”
I understood the boundaries of the mainland, called mainland only because three of the four regions were across the Howl. Jens had a fascination with cartography. Sometimes, when chores were through, I’d sneak into the map room of House Strom and stare at the boundaries with dreams of sailing away.
Furen was controlled by wizened Lord Patryk who took too many consorts, and abandoned matters of state to his son rather than caring himself. Hemlig was smaller, claimed by a young auspicious trader, rumored to be vowed to a fae from the Southern Kingdom. Skítkast was hardly a region, with narrow borders and governed by a lazy council who took bribes in exchange for making laws in favor of those willing to pay for them.
Klockglas was the only oversea region. If there were a king in the East, the Lord Magnate would be the nearest. Ivar held power unlike the other regions. They bowed to his word, catered to his brutality, and his influence slithered across the Howl.
Alvers dimmed their true natures throughout the mainland to avoid being snatched. Folk without means were mistreated and indentured. All very Klockglas-like.
Three Howl prisons marked the halfway line between coastlines. Watchers, a wicked sort of skydguard claimed by the Prison Guilds, stood guard over the criminals inside. Rumors told of cell blocks stacked one on top of the other, and Hagen once told me the cell bars were made from the bones of old prisoners.
He’d been kept in one and was ripped away before I had the chance to ask if it were true.
″Doing well?” Raum asked once Klockglas disappeared completely. He stretched his arms now that Tova had taken his place at the oar.
″Mint helps,” I said, squeamish and green.
″You’ll get used to it. Need some distraction?” He glanced warily at the water. “I know I do.”
I scooted over and patted the place at my side. “Sit.”
Raum obeyed but tangled his fingers and bounced his knees. “You have never left Klockglas?”
″Only through maps. My stepfather traveled often, even across the Fate’s Ocean to different kingdoms. Of course, he never took me with him.”
Raum winced when a spray of water misted our faces.
I took his hand, boldly, not surprised when he squeezed mine back.
″For what it’s worth,” he said once the boat settled, “your stepfather is a fool for mistreating you.”
I heated beneath the praise, smiling shyly. “Is Skítkast terrible?”
″Terrible? No. Then again, Skítkast is our preferred region since we run with the criminally inclined.”
″They’re known for Elixists.”
″Look at you, knowing your Alvers.” Raum flashed a quick smile but stared at the black water when the swells deepened again.
I tapped his shoulder, wanting to turn his focus from the surf. “Want to play a game with me?”
″A game?”
″There are a few guild members who have not given up their mesmer. I have my guesses, though. Will you tell me if I guess right?”
Raum’s eyes brightened, and my idea worked. He turned his back on the sea to face me. “I will, and I vow to buy you a horn of Skítkast brӓn if you can guess correctly. One drink, and your life will be changed.”
″I take your deal.” I scanned the deck where Kryv rowed, where Hanna and Ash tossed wooden dice, and where Kase stood next to Fiske at the stern board.
I settled on the front row of oarsman. “Gunnar has already shown off his tricky mind games.”
″Easy point.”
I tapped my chin. “And I know Lynx is a Hypnotik too.” The bulky Kryv was close enough to hear us. “I don’t know how he uses illusion, though. Maybe by keeping women asleep as he carries them through gardens?”
Raum laughed and smacked his knee. Lynx glared.
″Not even the half of it,” Lynx insisted. “I manipulate the mind into an illusion of calm. You think it’s easy?”
″You calm people?” I snorted behind my hand.
″Why do you sound so surprised?”
″You’re not exactly relaxed.”
In all the time I’d known Lynx he was brisk and thrived in order. He seemed closest with Gunnar and was the one Kryv keen to cook. In truth, he wasn’t half bad at it. I stole some fish stew after Salvisk’s and I think he knew it, but took satisfaction knowing others enjoyed what he made.
Tova peered over her shoulder from her place at the oar. “I think she’s saying stop being so righteous and perfect, Lynxy. Come slum about with the rest of us.”
Lynx only sniffed and complained that everyone underappreciated him.
″Who else?” Raum asked.
″Tova once said Fiske has good instincts. Is he a Profetik?”
″Good. But he’s a visionary with his sight. Not the same as me with senses,” Raum said.
Fiske turned to us now. The boat was not so big to hide louder conversations, but he didn’t seem bothered we discussed his mesmer.
″If he told me to duck my head and run across a dark alley, I would leave a lighted road without question,” Raum said.
Fiske chuckled. “Wise.”
″You predict things?” I asked. “Bad things?”
″Threats or danger,” Lynx answered for him. “A dismal gift if you ask me.”
Fiske merely grinned before he turned away.
″Me! Guess me!” Ash slithered through the oarsmen. Hanna followed, a shy smile on her face.
″Ah, now, Ash, I think I figured you out all on my own.”
His eyes widened in astonishment. “Really?”
″Yes. You’re the smartest on the boat, obviously.”
Ash rolled the tip of his finger against a scratch in his ear. “Everyone knows that.”
″True. Fine, let me think.” I slowed my tone because I delighted in the way the boy tapped his fingers against his legs as excitement grew. “Are you a Hypnotik?”
He grinned and shook his head exuberantly. “No, no. Hold up your hand.”
″Why?”
″I’ll show you how my mesmer can break a finger.”
″Ahh.” I pulled away with a nervous chuckle. “I’ll take you at your word. You’re a Rifter, then.”
″Yes, yes, I am,” Ash said. The boy had a silly laugh from somewhere in his belly. “Most folk are scared of me because I can break bodies.”
Ash was sublimely innocent, hardly something to be feared. The boy scrubbed his cheeks and beamed. Hanna patted my knee and rested a palm over her heart.
″Hanna, you have special mesmer, don’t you,” I said. Ash nodded at each word. “I don’t know it, though. Will you tell me?”
Hanna used her hands to speak, and her brother translated. “She’s telling you she is like a wall. She blocks strong mesmer, weak mesmer, anything an Alver can make will die if Hanna focuses enough. Just like Gunnar’s daj.”
My stomach tightened.
Ash didn’t notice and went on. “She’s an Anomali. We call her a shield because we don’t have a better name.”
I blinked through the harsh pain of missing Hagen and forced a smile. “You have special mesmer, Hanna. In the past, I was safer because of mesmer like yours.”
Raum hadn’t looked at the water for some time and goaded me to finish. Vali, I named the wolfish Alver with his piss poor mood, even though I knew he was a Profetik.
″I’m not wolfish,” Vali shouted. “I simply know when to shut my mouth, unlike you sods.”
Isak didn’t join us but watched from across the deck. Fiske said Isak was a Hypnotik and gave up nothing more. The others took pleasure in waiting for me to discover how Isak used illusion and mind manipulation on my own.
Strange sitting around Kryv without fear, and instead we laughed, teased, and I found belonging. A little unsettling to think how they terrified me weeks ago.
Now, they were my home.
I opened my mouth to ask which of the Kryv could explain how mesmer actually worked, but Kase shoved between those of us not at an oar. “We’re passing the south prison, anyone without a job get into the tent.”
So much for avoiding the prison watchers. I squinted against the dark as the oars went quiet. Made of ashen bricks, the tower stretched into the sky, a single light in the expansive upper window. The prisons were built atop narrow strip islands made of nothing but jagged rock.
The north prison, where Hagen was held, took those accused of minor crimes: bad game debts or battering cheeries. The central prison was meant for more brutal criminals like ravishers and conmen. But the south prison with spiked gates and a hint of decay in the breeze was the place for those the regions wished to maim and forget. People were lost inside the walls.
″Did you hear?” Kase hissed behind me.
I startled and hurried toward the tent. “What about you?”
His hands splayed wide as he faced the rocky prison. “Get in there and don’t make a sound.”
I didn’t listen, curiosity was more potent, and stayed to watch. Nothing burst from his hands, but something happened to the boat. Shadows spilled from the rails, the hull. A thick blanket of night surrounded the longship; darkness firm enough I couldn’t see beyond my nose.
The same as nights in my hayloft when I imagined a ghost stood behind me.
It was sensational.
A hand reached out of the tent and struck my foot. The small flicker of a flame from a long matchstick brightened Isak’s face. “Ash w-wants you to c-come inside.”
His voice was soft, like a secret, but he stammered terribly.
Inside the cramped tent, I hunched, a little stunned Isak spoke. A small candle in the center hardly lit the space. Breakers crashed against the prison island, and I imagined the watchers scanning the Howl for anyone they could put behind their bars. Folk like the Kryv.
The darkness wasn’t natural—a heady blackness that clung to my skin, seeped into my blood, until I was part of it.
Ash reached for me before I found a seat; he trembled. Hanna sat on her brother’s other side and squeezed his shoulder. I held him tightly as he hummed under his breath.
“I hate the dark. Hate it,” he muttered, voice muffled against my body.
″Ash,” I whispered. Like Raum, I planned to distract him from fear. “Tell me about Isak’s knife.”
The boy cracked his eyes. His voice quivered. “We call it a-a knuckle knife. Perfect for jabbing at the face, but a bit bloody when it catches an eye. Does a lot of damage. Sticks between your fingers like you’ve got an extra one. It’d be painful, don’t you think?”
″I think it would, yes.”
I tried to keep time in my head but lost track long before the sound of footsteps broke the silence.
″We’re clear,” Raum called to us.
A collective breath exhaled in the tent. Isak raked his fingers through his hair and stomped out first. Once the cloud of darkness receded, Ash brightened and led Hanna back to the others.
″Terrifyingly exciting, isn’t it?” Tova said airily.
″I sat there unmoving, but still feel as if I’ve been running for hours. How does he do it?” I used my chin to point at Kase.
″What? Oh, the darkness? Believe it or not, a great many of us fear the dark. He uses the fear, and it’s quite effective.”
The way he’d told me a Malevolent held power.
A bit of an answer to my wonderings, but part of me would not settle on him being a dark Alver until he overcame his damn aversion to my questions and told me himself.