The Spirit War(118)

Josef moved to stand beside Nico. “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” He looked down. “Ready?”

Nico nodded and hesitantly slipped her arms around his waist. She didn’t look at him while she did this, keeping her face tilted down so that she was hidden in the deep folds of her hood. That was the last thing he saw before the world twisted and everything went black.

Eli jumped back with a curse as Josef vanished, tripping over the top stair and right into the point of the door guard’s sword. He raised his arms on instinct, letting the guard walk him back into the watch room. The admiral was still staring at the space where Josef had been, his wrinkled face as pale as chalk.

“Before you do anything rash,” Eli said, arching away from the sword in his back, “I’ll have you know that there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.”

“Hang it all,” the admiral muttered. “I don’t care anymore. You’re all going in irons until we get this mess straightened out.”

“All is a bit much, don’t you think?” Eli said. “It’s just me at the moment.”

“Then we’ll start with you,” the admiral growled. “Tie him.”

Eli heaved an enormous sigh as two guards stepped forward to secure him. They were fastening the rope around his hands when the admiral turned to Tesset.

“I am so sorry you had to see this, Councilman Tesset,” he said. “Prince Thereson has always—”

His voice trailed off. Tesset wasn’t listening. He was standing at the window, staring out at the smooth sea. The admiral blinked and looked as well, squinting against the morning sun, and then what little blood was left in his face drained away.

“Powers help us,” he whispered.

No one answered. Everyone, even Eli, was staring at the line of tiny dots on the eastern horizon. Far below, the water on the beach began to churn against the rocky face of the storm wall. Out in the bay, the lines of docked Oseran runners rocked against their moorings as the sea swelled beneath them, the bay’s water pushed aside by the new, enormous current flowing from the east in a perfectly straight line.





CHAPTER


17


Josef gasped as the dark washed over him. This was true dark, not just lightless, but light consuming, and so cold he felt it like a punch all over his body. He couldn’t hear anything, but he could feel the darkness screaming, vibrating against his skin. Panic like he’d never felt began to close over him like a sheet of ice, and he began to sink. The darkness sucked him down like a hungry mouth, screaming and laughing at the same time. Josef couldn’t even move to defend himself, all he could do was sink and wait as the darkness poured down his throat, eating everything it touched.

Just before he was consumed, Nico’s arms tightened on his chest, pulling him back. All at once, the sinking stopped, and his limbs were free. The feeling of motion was so beautiful, Josef almost laughed with joy. Instead, he clung to the familiar realness of Nico’s wiry body with everything he had.

In less than three heartbeats, the light returned.

Josef fell to the ground, clutching his chest. He felt heavy and weak, like he’d been laid up with fever for weeks, and cold like he would never be warm again. He could feel Nico’s hands on him. Her voice was in his ear, asking if he was all right. Josef nodded and reached for the hilt of his sword. The Heart leaped into his hand, and the weakness began to fade. When he was sure he could stand, Josef pushed himself up and looked around.

He recognized the place at once. They were in the hall that ran through the center of the royal guard’s headquarters at the top of the palace. They’d come out next to the barracks door, but the barracks were empty. So was the hall. Josef’s stomach began to sink. This was the heart of the guard. Given the current crisis, it should be crawling with soldiers as the reserves reported in, but the floor was silent. His face set in a grim line, Josef drew the Heart. He turned the sword in his hand, testing the grip in his palm. An echo of power flowed back like a greeting. Josef held the sword close as he tugged open the door to the stairs leading up to the watchtower. Nico fell in behind him, skipping from shadow to shadow.

The stair was a narrow spiral ending at a heavy door that was usually guarded and locked. But there were no guards now, and the heavy door hung open a crack, as though someone had just stepped inside and forgotten to close it. Pressing his body flat against the wall, Josef reached out with his sword, opening the door with the Heart’s blade.

Even though he knew it was coming, the sight of the watchtower stopped him in his tracks. Men lay sprawled on the floor, their white faces still wide with shock above their severed necks. Josef took a quick count. Fifteen bodies, all guardsmen, far too many for the small tower. Josef set his jaw and raised his eyes to the only figure still standing.