James Davis - The Restless Shore

“Almost made it,” she said under her breath.

Shifting her weight forward, Ghaelya made a clumsy salute with her left hand, a mockery of the city watch.

“No trouble here, my lady,” she said, smiling as she wobbled on rubbery legs.

“Drunk again are we?” Tessaeril said, and though her sister stood still, Ghaelya imagined a single foot tapping disapprovingly and stifled a drunken laugh. A flicker of flames danced in Tessaeril’s eyes, but Ghaelya was accustomed to her glare of disapproval.

“It’s been a long night,” Ghaelya said, planting her hands on her hips with a too-sudden motion.. “I’d have to remember when I wasn’t drunk before to be drunk again.”

Her gestures shook loose one of the pouches she wore, spilling its contents. Coins clattered to the floor. Tessaeril knelt and picked up several coins bearing stamps of different cities and nations. Ghaelya rolled her eyes, cursing herself for not securing her purse more tightly.

“Stealing as well,” Tessaeril said. “For fun? Or are you trying to get arrested just to mortify mother?”

“Come now, Tess,” Ghaelya began and pushed past her sister. She flopped down in an overstuffed chair of the greeting room. “If I stood still in a boring room and spoke not a single word, I could mortify mother.”

Tessaeril dropped the coins and stood over Ghaelya. She pulled a blanket over her drunken sister’s shoulders and knelt down to catch her half-lidded gaze. Ghaelya stared back into eyes that mirrored her own; the face, framed by tongues of dancing flame, was her twin, though the person behind the stare was a far away day to her deep night.

At one time they’d shared everything; often it seemed even their thoughts and dreams were mirrored in one another.

“I worry about you,” Tessaeril said. “I worry that some night you won’t come home, and I’ll be left here alone.”

“Well, I worry every night that I’ll end up back home and become stuck here,” Ghaelya replied more angrily than she’d intended. She noticed the thin chain of blue silver around Tessaeril’s neck, a present Ghaelya had bought from a Branestrian merchant. But dangling from the end was a small metal seashell, the symbol of the Choir. Ghaelya reached out, tapping the shell clumsily. “And if you had any sense at all you’d worry the same thing. By the gods Tess! Leave me be or sing me to sleep! No, wait, don’t sing … Please don’t sing….”

Her vision faded. The last things she saw were her sister’s eyes, filling with tears and turning away. As darkness claimed her, Ghaelya weakly promised that she’d apologize in the morning-a promise broken before the sun rose.

7 Mirtul, the Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

The Spur Forest, South of Airspur, Akanul

Ghaelya cursed as they pressed into the thicker trees, feeling like an ogre among her more sure-footed companions. Thorns gripped her leather armor; bushes snapped loudly as she pulled free. Her footfalls were so loud, the whole valley might have heard them. Several times, lit by the glow of Vaasurri’s lantern, Uthalion cast an annoyed glance her way. Though he said nothing out loud, he truly didn’t have to.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they crossed a swift stream, following its current. The cool water flowed soundlessly around her calves, carrying her along as though she were a part of its course. Soon back in the forest, with long vines brushing her face and spiderwebs glowing in Vaasurri’s light, she shivered and watched expectantly for the Spur to end. Trees shivered in a sudden breeze, bringing the forest to brief life. Stars glinted through the leafy canopy and danced in a multitude of sparkling reflections.

Uthalion stopped, holding up a cautious hand as Vaasurri turned in a slow circle and lowered his lantern to the ground. Brindani joined them, kneeling around the edge of a circle of freshly churned soil. Roots jutted from the edges, saplings had been torn from the ground, and pale worms squirmed through the soft earth. The look on the killoren’s face was not encouraging when he stood away from the sunken area.

“We need to move faster-” he began, then his emerald gaze shot forward, widening in alarm.

A splash echoed through the night, a deep, heavy splash as if a boulder had been dropped from the sky. Ghaelya whipped around, trying to remember just how far back the stream they had crossed was. Her hand drifted to her sword, and she felt foolish even considering the tiny weapon against whatever had caused the sound.

Something rumbled and cracked from the direction of the stream, growing deeper. Another splash thundered the water, the same vibration shaking the trees. It was followed by a heavy breathing like the bellows of a hellish forge. The ground shook again, and Uthalion stood, breaking his stunned silence.

“Run.”

The struggle to tread quietly was forgotten as Ghaelya sprinted wide-eyed behind Uthalion. After several long strides, the massive breathing from the stream became a deafening growl, the sound of it raising gooseflesh on her neck and arms. Her reflexes heightened by fear, she had no trouble keeping up with Vaasurri and the pale light of his lantern. Brindani kept close behind her, and behind him came the snapping of trees and the dry scraping of rough skin over leaves and dirt. Ahead of it all came a labored breathing, filled with a whining wheeze that threatened to drive her mad. Unseen claws pulled at the earth, ripping trees from their roots as some massive bulk lurched through the forest.

She didn’t dare turn to look, imagining its hot breath washing over her, her thrashing legs caught in an unbreakable grip as the thing keened in victory. Childhood stories flashed through her mind, and she cursed at the memory, knowing the Mother of Nightmares had found her and knew her name. The pale serpent of her old fears, with its long fangs and madly rolling eyes, would devour her and forget the taste in an instant as it clacked its teeth and whined for more.

Upturned dirt, thrown high by the kaia’s thrashing, rained down on her from behind, and she tried to grasp at the pouch on her belt, at the flint and steel she’d carried to light the torch. Her toe caught on a root, and she fell forward, jarring her knee against the ground and rolling onto her back. The end of an exhale shuddered above her, a sickening sound of relief making her want to draw her sword, but her shaking arms froze above her.

Giant jaws creaked as they opened in the dark, blotting out the winking stars as though the gaping maw of night itself would devour her.

Little nightmare let me be, leave my name from off your tree. Tell your mother I am brave, with many years before my grave .

As flint and iron clicked, she flinched and a new star birthed before her eyes. More trees cracked and snapped in the distance as the thing thrashed and pulled away from the brilliance. Strong arms pulled her to her feet and drew her away from the retreating beast.

Squinting, she caught sight of pale flesh and clusters of shining eyes pulling back into the shadows. She shuddered as she turned and ran, plunging into the woods alongside Brindani. Uthalion remained in the rear, brandishing the brilliant torch. The circle of light he carried kept the monster at its barest edge, whining and wheezing to be let back in, begging wordlessly to be fed.

At each brief clearing, Ghaelya convinced herself they had cleared the Spur. Yet more trees pressed in upon them from all sides, killing hope at every turn. Uthalion’s torchlight glimmered in the leaves, and Ghaelya would glance at the light, begging that glow to be sunrise. But dawn did not come. The ground still shook, and the beast lumbered in the dark, crawling along and waiting for the light to falter.