“I do, My Lord Prince,” he shouted back.
“Then go. Bring news to Khalakovo and beyond.”
“I will, My Lord.”
The ship continued on, and Nikandr wondered about the wisdom of Andreya’s words. It made sense to band the ships together in defense of Vostroma’s largest island, her largest cities, and her seat of power, but Yrstanla didn’t seem interested in taking land. Their purpose was apparently only to destroy the spires, and if that were so, why would they take their forces into the teeth of the lion? Why wouldn’t they bypass Kiravashya altogether and take out as many spires as they could throughout the undefended islands?
In only hours, Nikandr and his wing of ships might reach Alotsk, but in doing so they would leave Elykstava defenseless. What if Yrstanla had targeted the furthest of Vostroma’s islands? Were he after the spires, that’s where he would go.
He looked to the southwest, toward Kiravashya, toward Galostina and his father.
I’m sorry, Father.
“Styophan,” he called.
“ Da, Kapitan.” Styophan-as he had on the Chaika — was the ship’s acting master.
“Send word. The four trailing ships will continue on and report to Kiravashya.”
“And the lead ships?”
“We head east to Elykstava,” Nikandr said. “If all goes well, we’ll return to Kiravashya shortly.”
Styophan paused, but only for a moment. “ Da, Kapitan.”
The Lihvyen turned and with the two trailing cutters-both of them small and ill-equipped but fast and maneuverable-headed east. Nikandr’s stomach churned as they sailed toward Elykstava and the small fort that stood upon her northern shores.
It took hours, but eventually they saw her, a hard black jewel among the ocean blue. As they came closer, he could see a small fishing village along the southern shore. He could see farmland on the higher plateaus.
And then the fort and her spire came into view.
Still standing, Nikandr thought, and not another ship in sight.
They’d come for nothing. They’d delayed their arrival to Kiravashya by as much as a day, all because he thought Yrstanla would send some token force here.
“Shall we turn back, My Lord Prince?” Styophan called.
“ Nyet,” Nikandr said. “Circle the island and let’s return.”
“You’re sure?” Styophan said softly.
“Call the orders, Styophan.”
“ Da, Kapitan.”
They continued around the northern side of the island. As they went, Nikandr felt his stone. It had felt dead before, but here-perhaps because of his proximity to the spire-he felt something at last. It was not the feeling that a presence was near, as he felt with the Matri, but instead a yawning emptiness, as if he stood near the edge of a great chasm, and the closer the Lihvyen came to the spire, the more pronounced it became.
“Prepare for battle,” Nikandr said to Styophan.
Styophan snapped his heels and bowed his head, and then left, giving hand signals to the crew that were quickly passed around the ship and to the trailing cutters.
Nikandr met Jahalan at the mainmast. “Can you feel it?” he asked.
“I feel something,” Jahalan said, “though I know not what. It feels strange here. My havahezhan is distant, and it grows more so the closer we come to this island.”
“Anahid?”
Anahid sat at the base of the mainmast, her arms out and her hands barely touching the surface of the windwood. It seemed as though she hadn’t heard him, but then she answered, her voice hoarse. “The same, son of Iaros”-she swallowed-“though for me it is much worse than Jahalan describes.”
Nikandr moved to the fore of the ship and stared at the fort, which was now in easy view, and he realized that though the flag of Vostroma was flying, there were no signs of life within the keep.
He raised his telescope to his eye and studied the fort closely. There was no one. Along her tall gray walls. On the road leading eastward. No one.
He remembered a cove that was set into the northern shore of the island, a place surrounded by steep hills. It had harbored, he recalled, many ships during a famous battle during the War of Seven Seas.
He swung the telescope along the coast, searching for it.
He might not have found the cove as distant as it was if he hadn’t noticed the tops of the masts and rigging that could barely be seen above the hill that stood between the cove and the Lihvyen.
“Rise!” Nikandr called. “Rise, and pass the signal!”
No sooner had he said these words than the first puff of smoke came from the nearest of the fort’s cannons.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
A tiana was awakened by a hand on her shoulder.
She sat up in her bed and found Siha s standing over her. “What?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and pulling the thin blanket off her.
“The guards are coming this way.”
Ishkyna, lying nearby, woke and groaned. “Let them come.”
Atiana shoved Ishkyna’s backside with one foot. “Get up, unless you wish to wait for them alone.”
“If it means I can sleep longer, I will.”
Atiana kicked her again, harder. “Get up.”
Ishkyna slapped her foot away and rolled up in bed until she could rest her head in her hands.
Atiana pulled on her boots and raked her fingers through her grimy hair. She already wore the Galaheshi peasant dress she’d worn for the past week. It was properly grubby, to the point that she looked like half of the women that dared wander about the city.
In little time all of them were ready. Ushai, Ishkyna, Atiana, plus Siha s and Irkadiy and two of their streltsi. The other streltsi had been quartered in a farm to the south. There had been no sense in keeping so many in one place-too much chance of discovery.
They slipped out the back door and into the cold night wind. The street was filled with small homes built close to one another, most of them narrow and built to two or three stories. Atiana studied the windows closely, wondering who might be watching. In one she thought she could see the silhouette of a girl behind white curtains. When they came closer however, the silhouette was gone. Perhaps she’d gone to tell her parents, but that only made Atiana wonder whether her parents would suspect who was walking down their street, and, more importantly, whether they’d run and tell the city guard.
They continued on, and the feeling of being watched grew until Atiana’s skin itched from it. In more and more homes she thought she saw faces, or watching eyes, and though she came to understand they were merely hallucinations brought on by too little sleep, it didn’t make her terror any less real.
For seven days they’d been in this city, being woken at all hours, slipping from one section of the city to another, all in hopes of staying one step ahead of the Kamarisi’s men.
Twenty minutes into their walk, one of Siha s ’s sentries returned to tell them that the guardsmen had come to the room they’d just left and were questioning the mason who owned it. Atiana prayed to the ancients that they would be spared. So far, the people that had sheltered them had come to no harm, but it was only a matter of time before one of them was taken to the city square at the base of the Mount and hung.
In time they came to a servant’s home behind a large house in a section of Baressa that had once been affluent. Hard times had come and some of the buildings had fallen into disuse.
Ishkyna dropped into a chair covered by a sheet and leaned back, closing her eyes immediately. Ushai sat on the floor, crossed her legs, and took long, measured breaths. Meditating. Again. It had begun to grow on Atiana’s nerves.
Unable to watch her any longer, Atiana investigated the small home. It was bare, but she could tell it had once been quaint, a place she would have been pleased to have tea in, to visit relatives in. Now it seemed lost and forgotten among the immensity of Baressa.
They could not stay here, she knew-this had been planned only as a temporary hiding place-but she hoped it could shelter them for a few days at least. They were running out of places to go. The Shattering was off-limits to them now; it had been from the moment Sariya had discovered that they’d been hiding there, that they’d used it to attack her. Since then, they’d been wandering the neighborhoods of Baressa, never staying in one place for more than a night, biding their time until Siha s found a way to reunite them with his countrymen.