Sky Stitcher, page 17
Then I hope they swallow you whole, I thought in return, willing him to hear the words and, more importantly, my heart to hear the sense of them. I was meant to fulfill my duties by marrying Rali. Every part of me knew my growing trust in Rue was folly, my connection to him a burden that must be destroyed. No part of me was allowed to feel for Rue...to want him.
But want him, I did, and he knew it. He smiled in earnest when my cheeks flushed with warmth.
What a traitor I was. To pull Prisha’s creation from the sky and allow him to live, to let him become important to me, to want to believe that he was not the evil we’d come to expect of his brethren because he was just Rue. Because I did not want him to be the enemy. Because I wanted to believe he was more. And the crowd…they watched my procession with awe, regarding me as some savior, praising my devotion to Halah, my honorable dedication to the duties of protecting the people and perpetuating the goddess’s lineage. But how quickly would they turn on me if they knew? If they found out all I had ever done was endanger them with my chaos and fail to protect them as their Stitcher? If they knew I’d invited Prisha’s monster right into their midst?
Kill them all. They all must die.
Flustered, I blinked Prisha’s voice out of my mind and turned my attention away from Rue. I refocused on the crowd, hoping they would blame the flush of my cheeks on the sun’s heat. Hoping they might mistake my tears of worry for ones of appreciation. What is wrong with me?
We came to a crossroad where the sea of people parted, standing along either side of the street to protect the carpet made of sawdust and spices, an art piece meticulously arranged by local artisans for A’i Halajan. They laid out the vibrant display along the processional path each year so the arrangement might be disturbed by the fresh crop of Daughters presented for new unions at the festival. It was what they expected of us, my Sisters told me. We were to come through and disrupt the old way of things, clearing the path to make way for something new. To pave the path for the next generation and bring hope for the future. And this year, as the only Daughter presented for a union, all of those expectations fell upon me.
Cinnamon and star anise filled the air as the wheels ground through the arrangement, along with smokier, more robust scents that mingled with the delicate aromas of lavender and orchid. How fitting that I’d leave a jumbled mess of destruction behind me. Chaos was my nature, after all.
As we continued along the path, people showered me with gifts, each presentation twisting like a knife in my heart, striking judgment for accepting their gratitude and admiration when I’d done nothing to deserve it. A young mother with deep brown eyes approached me, holding her infant close to her breast, cradling him in the swathe of fabric tied behind her back. She smiled and passed me a stack of silver bangles, each hammered with divots that captured both shadows and sun, encrusted with mother of pearl and star sapphire. An old man with cataracts that clouded his eyes but not the admiration in his gaze passed me a parcel wrapped in waxed fabric. I opened it to find a collection of cheeses and breads. He held my hands in his, covered in liver spots and years of hard labor, but they were also full of compassion and warmth. “May Halah bless you, Daughter,” he said before a quartet of women swooped in to replace him.
They adorned me with a gauzy chiffon cloak, placing it gently over my shoulders and clasping the beaded collar around my neck. The airy garment felt like a breeze on my skin and looked like a smoky sunrise, glimmering with thousands of hand-stitched beads along the hem.
We moved forward, coming to another crossroad in the streets as more spectators placed morsels of food in my lap or around the pillows, urging me to eat like I was some animal to fatten for slaughter. But I ate until I felt certain I’d be mistaken for one of the pillows myself, too overstuffed to enjoy any more of the delicacies they shared. At that point, I merely pretended to nibble, smiling with an effort to appear gracious as I received each gift.
But behind my smile, I wondered how much longer I’d have to continue the charade. I worried, exhausted by the act, when every beat of my heart urged me to go find the Eldress so I could become what these people deserved.
A small child with white-blond locks and moonsilk skin approached me. Hours beneath the sun had dotted his nose with a constellation of freckles, but he was unmistakably a son of Daughters. Perhaps a nephew of mine, but one I would never have the chance to meet outside of Rashii, for only Daughters returned home. He smiled a bit uncertainly, lifting his open palms to show me a serpentine hairpin. It glittered resplendently in his hands, flecked with obsidian and emeralds.
He placed it a bit roughly in my hair, then scampered away into the crowd, wrapping his arms around a pair of legs. Rue’s eyes met mine, quite alarmed yet amused by the little boy trapping his knees in a fearsome embrace. He awkwardly patted the boy’s head, who looked up and gaped in horror when he realized his error, but his father swooped in to rescue him, scooping him into his arms and pressing his forehead against the boy’s with a smile. Rue sighed with relief, and I hid a giggle behind my hand, amused by the idea of a shadow monster becoming a father.
Rue continued to weave between spectators, keeping pace with the procession, staying unseen and unnoticeable to everyone. But I noticed him. And I could not stop my gaze from wandering to his, no matter how many times I scolded myself.
The palanquin jostled with a jerk, and a thump disrupted the pillows behind me. Something heavy rammed into my spine. The crowd cried out, and I yelped, whipping around to see what had struck me.
Chapter 18
The Others
A stocky form stretched across the pillows, an arrow protruding from his back. Blood spooled from the wound and soaked into the silk cushions below him. A second arrow whizzed past my jaw. I snapped my hand to my neck, where its tail had brushed against my skin, then screeched when it landed in the center of a moon-shaped pillow at my feet. It exploded into a flurry of feathers. My blood rushed through my veins, rioting its way through my body until every muscle tensed on edge.
Another arrow pinned the hem of my dress to the platform, a measure away from my ankle. I gasped, tugging my foot back. I scrambled to my knees on the unsteady platform and scanned the rooftops, searching for the assailant. Spectators screamed and shoved, creating a bedlam of limbs and elbows around the palanquin that made it impossible for me to descend.
Panic twisted around my windpipe, an unforgiving constrictor, and power rushed to flood the space between my ribs in an automatic response. A faint glow emerged just above my breastbone, pulsing within me, begging me to act. No, no, no. I wrapped the gauzy covering tightly around my frame and hinged forward, hiding the heart of stars and slamming mental walls around it, suppressing it until it was hidden so deeply inside me, even I could not reach it. I could not use it—not here. Not around so many people I could accidentally harm. What if it called Prisha’s attention to this crowd?
A pair of hands wrenched me from the platform and dragged me through the chaos.
“Are you hurt?” Rue asked me, his voice pressured.
“No,” I breathed, too stunned to lend any strength to my voice. “No, I’m fine.” My chest heaved with short, shallow breaths that sent stabbing pains beneath my breastbone, but I wrapped the veiled cape tighter around myself, hiding any last traces of the power I was never meant to have. The force I had stolen from the stars.
Rue ran his hands over my arms to inspect for signs of harm, then ripped his attention from me when he was adequately convinced of my well-being. He cast his gaze toward the navy canopies above the streets, then up to the rooftops. A dark figure with a longbow gripped in his hand stood erect, locking eyes with Rue for the span of a few uncomfortable breaths. He dropped out of view behind the rooftop turrets and vanished.
“Coward,” swore Rue, flexing the hand that didn’t hold me. “Stay here. Do not speak to anyone until I come back.”
He raced away, disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway as if he had become them himself. Or as if they had become part of him. I leaned against the wall, forcing my body to slow my sharp, ragged breaths into steady, carefully measured ones.
The procession in the main street had erupted with pandemonium, soldiers of the city guard shoving past the rabble to secure the Daughters. My Sisters passed panicked glances among themselves, shuffling forward with hastened, short steps as the guards steered them to safety. “Where is Zara?” Aunt Vanya shrieked over her shoulder, but the soldier pushed her forward, relaying orders to find me to his comrades.
I shrank into the shadows, needing a moment to breathe. I willed my heart rate to slow, suppressing any last hints of that raw power in my chest. How had I come so close to using it? Had anyone seen it? Had they noticed? And, perhaps most pressing, what would have happened if I hadn’t been able to subdue it in time? If the power had slipped from me and harmed the spectators? I needed to lock it away, deeply inside of me, and learn to rely on the Daughters’ weaving instead. That was the safest magic, if I could only learn to control it.
Pain ripped suddenly through my chest, slicing at the muscle, threatening to pull the organ straight through my skin. Crying out, I crumpled into a heap, clutching a hand over the physically unharmed skin. It burned in agony just below the surface, suggesting a dire wound that could only be felt, but never seen. The tether around my heart pulled taut, searing a web of scars onto the walls of the muscle. Where was Rue? Something was wrong. He’d gone too far—had he been hurt? Fog clouded my mind, submerging me in a haze so thick it felt like an ocean wave washing over me.
The sound of wings slicing the air pulled me back from drowning in that tumultuous sea. Rue landed with a rustle deep in the shadowed alley, dragging the crumpled form of a man in his wake. He threw the man toward me, disdain written on every angle of his beautiful face as he stared down at his prey, looking every part the monster—one that would stop at nothing to shred the world and lay it at my feet. “I brought you something,” Rue explained, lifting his gaze but not his chin, so his amethyst eyes blazed beneath dark brows.
The man crawled toward me, and Rue pinned him beneath his boot. A Rider. Dark, curled hair, cropped short at his ears. A bloodied, off-centered nose and stormy eyes that darkened like coal when they met mine.
“I saw what you did,” he seethed through bloodied teeth, his words foaming with a cocktail of hatred and excess saliva. He spat the excess forcefully toward my feet, leering at me with teeth bared and eyes warped by malice. “You abomination. You deserve to die,” he hissed. “I’ll kill you and every one of your bitch Sisters.”
Rue pressed the jagged sole of his boot deeper into the man’s shoulder until it cracked. “Fuck you,” the Rider gasped at Rue, sucking air sharply through his broken teeth and turning his head toward the ground.
“Was it you?” I seethed, stepping closer to him. “Did you kidnap my Sisters and burn the guryas?”
“The Riders have always known,” he said to the ground, failing to acknowledge that I had spoken. “Always known you are monsters. Just like the ones you pulled from the sky.” The man’s back deflated, and he let out a long, whimpering breath. Rue wrenched him up by the hair and forced him against the wall. The man grimaced, folding into an awkward position with his knees mashed against his chest and his elbows drooping uselessly at his side. Rue’s arm crossed over the man’s neck, barring him against the sandstone. He squirmed uncomfortably beneath the pressure at his windpipe, but relented quickly. He slumped into an overspent heap, his muscles lax.
He twisted his neck to wipe his bloodied face against his knees, before slurring through his swollen mouth. “You let them celebrate you. Traitor. Monster. Sky Render.” He sought my gaze with a sneer. “I saw. I saw the skies. I saw what you did. The monsters...the winged ones masquerading as common men, like this one you keep at your side.” He spit a frothy mouthful of bloodied saliva onto the paved stone and looked back at me, a string of spittle still dangling from his chin. “What are you planning with them? The other ones you summoned? Did you lure them from the sky to kill us all? What did we ever do to you, Daughter?”
“Others?” I breathed, clutching my chest with a hand in a futile attempt to fortify the cage around my thundering heart. “What others?” Rue threw me a cautionary glare and shoved all his weight against the man until he yelled with a shattering cry. But the man did not relent in silence for long, his hatred swirling about him like a toxic cloud, resurrecting him from his near bout of unconsciousness.
“The other winged beasts you’ve lured from the sky,” he seethed, and I recoiled beneath the daggers in his eyes. “You can let your disgusting monster kill me if you want, so you don’t need to get your precious, holy hands dirty, but my brothers will come for you. They’ll kill you before you can harm anyone else. And they’ll kill the rest of your monsters. You fucking disgrace.”
My stomach knotted, and each word he spoke, every accusation, sliced through my gut until my intestines felt like a bloodied clump of stewed-up bowels. Shapeless and watery, useless and burning with guilt. Poisoned by confusion and worry. But Rue, Rue only growled with anger and pressed his forearm unforgivingly into the man’s windpipe, choking off his speech.
“She can shred you limb from limb if she so desires. I would not take that opportunity from her.” He leaned forward, pressing against the man’s clavicle with a dangerous scowl on his face. “But I’ll hold you down for her while she eviscerates you. Gladly.”
His amethyst eyes flicked toward mine, now a dangerously dark shade of midnight. I shivered. “So, Zara, your kill or mine?”
“Oh, I don’t think…” I didn’t want to kill him. If he knew anything about my Sisters, I should question him more. And perhaps he was right about me…maybe I deserved his hatred and anger for my mistakes. But I didn’t know what he meant about the others.
His claims made my stomach writhe with venomous snakes. I’d only summoned Rue. Were there truly more? Why? Had Prisha sent them? Had I accidentally summoned them, too? My eyes narrowed on Rue.
Had he called them? Could I truly trust him? I watched the way he ruthlessly pushed down on the man, the last traces of his humanity disappearing behind shadowy malice when he glared down at his victim.
“We should take him to see the Eldress,” I decided finally. She would know what to do…the right questions to ask.
Rue looked at me for a long moment, and when the man’s chest fell with a release of tension, he wrapped his hands around either side of his head and twisted. The man’s neck snapped with a sharp crack, and he slumped forward onto the sandstone, never to rise again.
“Nobody threatens you and walks away alive,” Rue declared coldly as he rose to full height, dispersing his shadowy wings into the darkened corners of the alleyway so they disappeared from sight. My ears rushed with pounding blood, and my heart threatened to break free from the safety of my ribs. My eyes darted between Rue and the discarded corpse. Venom and hell.
“Rueper, Guardian of the In Between,” I breathed. “Good Halah. You threaten me every day. I could have handled him. I—”
“I know you could have,” he interrupted. “But I did it so you would not have to. Because you are trusting to a fault, and because he needed to die.” His voice was a low growl, not unkind, but deep with emotion.
My lungs fought to expand against the vice of panic wrapping tightly around them. “He didn’t need to die. We could have taken him to the Stitcher. We could have—”
“We could have let him live so he could spew his tale to everyone and blame you for Prisha’s army? So they will lock you up? Or worse? What then, Zara? What would be your plan then?”
“I—well…but I didn’t call Prisha’s army,” I sputtered.
“Of course you didn’t. They’re coming for me. And you. And the Eldress...and anyone who’s ever dared to take a stance against Prisha. The last war is beginning.”
My mouth opened, but no words formed. Every muscle in my body tensed, paralyzed by fear.
“You do not know the war you are up against, but I do. I’ve seen your enemy.”
Rue crossed the distance between us, placing his hands on my cheeks, exuding a sense of certainty that made my knees wobble. “But I see you, too, Zara. And Prisha doesn’t stand a chance against you. She doesn’t know what she’s up against either.” He paused, searching my eyes with the faintest hint of admiration. “I killed him so you can live. Because you matter.”
I gasped without meaning to. It escaped unbidden between my parted lips. Rue pressed his forehead against mine. “Without you, this world is doomed. I know it,” he murmured. His words landed like a soft caress against my face, his tone a sultry, mesmerizing whisper that sent shivers down my spine.
“The world is doomed because of me,” I objected, but I didn’t move a muscle. I let him hold me.
He rocked his head slowly back and forth, still pressing his forehead to mine. “I don’t think so, Starlight. I think you’re exactly the bit of chaos this world needs.”
“You’re a terrible influence,” I countered.
Rue barked a short laugh. “And what else would you expect from a monster of the In Between?”
Finally, I stepped away, my arms stiff and uncertain at my side as I remembered myself. “We should go back. To the palace. Maybe we should talk to Rali. Warn them about...the others.”
Rue regarded me for a long moment, as though wavering with some unspoken misgivings, then nodded. “Of course. But first...” His traveling cloak rustled behind him as he swept through the alleyway, then knelt in the shadows, patting the man’s corpse and sifting through his pockets. Triumphant, he reemerged spinning a pocket knife with a gleaming bone handle in one hand and clutching a palmful of coins in his other. He jingled them gleefully.
