Darkfall

For my family.

Those I was born to, and those I chose.

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading

Copyright

About the Publisher

Chapter One

The missing are harder to accept than the lost. My parents had been dead five years, but my sister? She’d been missing only three months. I’d grieved those who’d died, but I didn’t know how to feel about Tali. Guilt, fear, anger, hope – they came and left as fast as water birds taking flight.

She was out there, somewhere. A prisoner of the Duke’s, stolen from me just as he’d stolen the city of Geveg, the pynvium from our mines, the food from our tables. His greed had turned to war, and he’d crushed all of us under his boot, racing to get even more power. No one was safe, certainly not Tali.

Late at night, safe at Jeatar’s farm, I wondered if it was time to stop looking for her. I hated myself for thinking it, but it wasn’t just my life I was risking by trying to find her. My friends put themselves in danger every time we left the farm, and some had even got hurt because of me.

But then my guilt would haunt me. How could I stop looking? I’d made so many promises. Others had sacrificed so much to help me. It wasn’t just about one lost sister any more, but thousands of families ruined by the Duke of Baseer and his desire to control everyone in the Three Territories.

If I gave up on Tali, was I also giving up on them? On any chance we had to be free of him? To just be free?

Someone knocked on the door to the room I shared with Aylin. I didn’t want to answer. I’d tossed and turned all night, worrying and planning, and was really hoping to grab a few hours of sleep this morning now that Aylin wasn’t hogging the bed.

“Nya?” Danello said through the door. “Are you awake?”

Yes, but I didn’t want to be. We’d argued again last night. One of those dumb fights that started over nothing and ended with both of us storming off. If I opened the door he’d smile at me, and then I’d want to forgive him, and I wasn’t ready to forgive him.

Trouble was, I couldn’t remember exactly why we’d argued. But it had been his fault. I was almost sure of that.

“Nya, come on.” Danello knocked again. “You can’t still be mad at me.”

It had been over scouting reports, hadn’t it? Troop movements outside Baseer. I’d said that gave us an opening to sneak into the city, but Danello said it could be the army moving around again to make way for more soldiers. I said I wanted to leave by the end of the week – he thought we should wait until we had more information. I said something stupid and he said something stupid back.

“I have food,” he sang.

My mutinous stomach grumbled and I sighed. That was cheating, plain and simple.

“I have good food.” His sweet voice was light and playful. Hard to stay mad at him when he sounded like that. I pictured him out there, leaning on the door, his hair a mess from the breeze coming off the fields.

OK, maybe it wasn’t completely his fault. Aylin said I’d been grumpy lately – probably from lack of sleep. It wasn’t like he was telling me I couldn’t go, just that I should be extra careful, think things through first. Without knowing why the Duke was moving those troops around, caution wasn’t a bad idea.

And Danello had brought food.

I slipped out of bed, walked across carpet thick as my thumb, and opened the door. Danello carried no plate in his hands, but he did have a picnic basket.

I sensed a trap.

“I packed this full.” He held up the basket. Handmade from the looks of it, blue-reed weaves, too. Those didn’t come cheap. “All you have to do is come with me to get it.”

I hesitated. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but if he had sweetcakes in that basket, I could manage a little forgiveness.

“Where?”

“Just to the gardens. Sunshine, fresh air.” He grinned, wide and silly. “It’ll be fun, and we could use a little fun.”

Aylin had been telling me the same thing. I grinned back. It had been a dumb fight anyway. “Let me get dressed.”

I shut the door and threw on some clothes, then ran a comb through my still-black curls. The dye Aylin had used to colour our hair and disguise us was starting to grow out, but unless I cut it as short as Danello’s, it would be months before I looked normal again.

Have you ever been normal?

I pushed the thought away as I opened the door. Danello beamed, his short blonde hair ruffled just like I pictured, his smile just as sweet. He offered me his arm and I took it.

“Did you pack sweetcakes?” I asked.

“You’ll have to come with me to find out.”

I followed, actually looking forward to something for a change.

Voices drifted up the stairs, folks laughing, talking, even arguing. So different from the first week we were at the farm, when half the people had huddled in corners and the other half run around setting up defences. We were safe for now, but how long would that last? Faces turned when we walked past the reception room, and the laughing ceased.

Those in the back leaned their heads together, awed gazes darting to me. Some I recognised – those who’d been in the underground resistance Jeatar had been secretly running in Baseer, soldiers on the farm, friends and friends of friends who’d escaped before the Duke sealed the city and began recalling his troops. The others I didn’t know, but new folks arrived every day.

“Any news yet, Nya?” someone called.

“Not yet.” Seemed like everyone knew about Tali. I guess that was a good thing, since the more people who knew I was looking for her, the better the chance that someone would hear something that could help me find her. Still, it bothered me that everyone knew my problems. And knew that she was my sister. As much danger as she had to be in right now, she’d be in a lot more if the Duke knew who she was. He’d sure as spit use her to get to me.

“When’s the next trip out?”

Danello’s hand tensed in mine, but he stayed quiet.

“Hopefully the end of the week,” I said. No commitment there.

“You’ll find her, don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

Danello hurried me out the side door and we headed across the sun-baked courtyard. I drank in the humid air, the heat chasing the tenseness from my limbs. Fields spread out past the farmhouse grounds: tall, bright-green cornstalks with yellow tops waving in the wind; smaller, darker-green sweet potato vines in bushy rows. One pasture held grazing cattle with long, twisting horns.

Not at all like the islands and canals of Geveg. Even though we were miles from the river, and a two-day sail from Baseer, I still felt exposed with so much open space around me. There were no corners to hide behind, no side streets, no bridges. Just miles of fields. Geveg’s mountains were hazy in the distance, looking more like storm clouds on the horizon than rock.

To the north of the farmhouse was a grid of dirt roads and buildings, the houses of those who worked Jeatar’s farm. He had thousands of acres and hundreds of farmhands, and some merchants and traders had established shops there like a small village. I didn’t know if it had a name, but Aylin called it Jeatown.

The fields closest to Jeatown were dotted with dozens of tents, makeshift homes for those who’d also fled Baseer. Horses grazed in roped-off corrals, with wagons nearby. I even spotted a few carriages mixed in, proof that wealth didn’t protect you from the Duke’s soldiers.

“It’s getting crowded out there,” I said. “We might have to start making food runs twice a day.” We’d been helping Jeatar’s people hand out food and supplies to the refugees, and the bags were going faster every day.

“I heard the guards say there are even folks from Verlatta now.”

“Verlatta? What are they running from?” Verlatta had been under siege by the Duke’s army the last six months, but when I’d shattered his palace and started a city-wide riot, he’d recalled the army to subdue his people. Verlattians should have been rejoicing.

Danello shrugged. “I don’t know, but rumours say there’s fighting in all the cities.”

Even Geveg?

I tried not to picture my city in flames, people I knew fighting in the streets, their bodies in the canals, but I’d seen far too much for those memories to stay silent. War was coming.

Saints, war was here, and I’d probably started it.

I still had nightmares about being trapped in the Duke’s weapon, locked to the misshapen pynvium by cuffs of silvery metal that made you do what you didn’t want to do. The pain cycling through me and the other five Takers chained to it with me. Being forced to trigger it, to flash its pain and kill.

Of losing control of it and turning it into something that drained life.

I prayed the weapon had been destroyed when the Duke’s palace was, shattered by its own pain when the walls came down around it, but I knew better. It was still there, and the Duke was still trying to make it work.

If he figured it out, none of us would ever be safe again.

A soldier by the perimeter fence waved at Danello and called hello. He elbowed another soldier and pointed at me, but they were done gossiping by the time we reached them.

It was the same everywhere we walked. Knots of people watching me, whispering about me. You’d think they’d be bored with me by now, but there was always someone new on the guard who hadn’t heard what I’d done. Their words reached me, some from people who didn’t even try to stay quiet.

“That’s the girl who destroyed the palace and almost killed the Duke.”

“It’s the Shifter, the one who rescued all those Healers in Geveg.”

“There’s Nya. She saved our lives in Baseer. Took on the Undying to do it, too.”

My skin twitched with so many eyes on me. I’d spent my whole life hiding who I was – what I was – but my secret was gossip now. And gossip travelled faster than a four-footed hen.

Maybe even fast enough to reach the Duke’s ears.

“Here we are.” Danello pushed open a gate to a low-walled garden. Cool green shade greeted us, smelling of honeysuckle and white ginger. It was beautiful, but my uneasiness was rising like the tide.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I said. With all the new folks on the farm, one or two could be spies – or worse, trackers – for the Duke. He finally had control of Baseer again, and that was making everyone nervous. We should be preparing to fight back, defend ourselves if needed, not enjoying the sunshine.

“Nya, it’s OK. It’s quiet here, no one will bother us.” Danello squeezed my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. I took a deep breath and nodded. He was right. Until we knew what the Duke was doing, there wasn’t anything to prepare for.

We followed a stone path that curved among bright yellow flowers and trees with white bark and circled around a small pond. Danello stopped and pulled a blanket out of the basket. He shook it open and spread it out by the water.

“Breakfast is served,” he said with a flourish.

I sat, scanning the bushes while he rummaged through the basket. Leaves rustled in the wind like footsteps crunching through dry grass, but I didn’t see anyone around.

“Do you want fish cakes or stuffed peppers?” He held both up and wiggled them as if that made them more appealing. Didn’t help the food, but it did make him look adorable. His warm brown eyes. The cute little scar above his lip.

I was a fool. A romantic picnic with Danello and all I could think about was what the Duke was up to? Danello deserved better.

“What’s the pepper stuffed with?” I asked, scooting closer.

“Um…” He poked a finger into the breading. “Looks like fish.”

“The same fish?”

“Maybe, if it was a big fish.” He grinned.

I chuckled, the first laugh I’d had in, Saints, I couldn’t remember. It felt good. This was good. Me, him, together all alone for once, with no one trying to kill either of us. I needed more of this – lots more. “I meant the same kind of fish.”

“I know, but it made you smile.” He set the pepper on a plate and grabbed a knife from the basket. “We’ll split both. That way you won’t have to choose.”

Like I chose to leave Tali behind? My grin faltered. I hadn’t meant to think it, hadn’t wanted to think it. Shouldn’t have thought it, not with the sun and flowers and a cute boy bringing me food.

A sweet scent drifted past on the breeze. White ginger. Tali’s scent. No wonder I’d thought of her.

Danello looked at me, uncertain. “You OK?”

I nodded and he resumed cutting.

It hadn’t been my choice to leave her. Danello and Aylin had kidnapped me, carried me screamingout of Baseer, thrown me on Jeatar’s boat, and locked me in a cabin until we were far enough away that I couldn’t swim back.

That’s not the choice you regret.

No, it was the one I’d made my first night in Baseer, when I could have saved Tali from the tracker Vyand and kept her out of the Duke’s clutches. But Danello and Aylin had been captured, too, imprisoned in a Baseeri jail and facing execution. Their certain deaths had weighed against Tali’s life.

And I’d chosen them.

Tali had been in trouble for sure, but Danello and Aylin would have been killed in just a few hours. I’d thought I’d have time to go back for her. Thought I could save them all, but I’d been wrong. I’d left her in a city tearing itself apart with a man who wanted to turn her into a weapon and force her to kill.

“Here you go.” Danello handed me a plate, a smile on his face but worry in his eyes. “One half of a mystery-fish-stuffed pepper and one full fish cake.”

I took my food. The first bite tasted like rock, but I kept eating. He’d gone to so much trouble, and all for me.

Footsteps thumped over stone and I tensed. Another couple appeared but kept walking around the pond. They didn’t even look at us. Maybe we were far enough outside the farmhouse grounds that people didn’t recognise me. My name was a lot more famous than my face.

“It’s OK, Nya, you’re safe here,” Danello said softly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He wouldn’t, either. He’d face any soldiers the Duke sent after me. Watch my back no matter what I tried to do. Even when he disagreed with it.

“Thank you,” I said. I should have said more, but the words wouldn’t come. I looked at him, hoping he’d know how I felt anyway. Eyes say more than lips ever could. Danello had nice lips. I smiled.

He smiled back nervously and leaned towards me, just a little, as if waiting to see what I’d do. I leaned in as well, my heart pounding. Hoping he’d come closer, so I could go closer and—

“Excuse me?” a woman called, stepping out from under the trees.

Danello blew out a sigh and turned around. I frowned at her. She looked too nicely dressed for a refugee. A Baseeri merchant perhaps. A man stepped out next, his face scarred, three scratches on one side, forehead to chin, like a giant bird had clawed him. He looked more like a soldier.

“Yes?” Danello asked.

The woman smiled at us. “Have you heard about the Great Flash?”

“Great Flash?”

She nodded. “It happened in Baseer. A flash bright as the sun, caused by a girl who channelled the Saints’ power to crush the Duke’s palace.”

I shivered. She had it all wrong.

“Um, that’s not what happened,” I said. “It was a pynvium weapon that overloaded and flashed.”

Danello grabbed my hand. “Don’t say anything else,” he whispered.

“The Saints sing of this girl,” the woman continued. She glanced at the scarred man. “They gave her the power of Their light so she could save us from the darkness.”

I couldn’t even save my sister. How did they expect me to save them?

“She sounds, uh, great, but we need to go.” Danello inched away, tugging me with him. He kept one hand near the rapier at his hip.

“Were you there?” the man asked. His desperate gaze bored into mine. He reminded me of some soldiers I’d seen at the end of the first war – the ones who gave up fighting and sat inside the Sanctuary all day, praying for salvation and begging everyone around them to pray, too. Ones who were lost, angry, wanting help and blame in equal measures.

“Will you tell us what you saw?” he asked. “Share your story with us and others who believe as we do?”

My story was being shared quite enough already. “Sorry, I didn’t see anything.”

The woman and the scarred man frowned but nodded. “Truth is a hard stone to swallow,” he said. “If you want to share, you can find us in the east camp. Look for a red carriage with gold stars.”

Carriage? Maybe they weren’t merchants if they could afford a carriage. But they didn’t look like aristocrats.

“Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind,” said Danello. We backed away, ready to run if they so much as stepped towards us, but they left and headed deeper into the garden. I heard the woman speak again, probably to the other couple we’d seen earlier.

“What in Saea’s name was that all about?” I kept my voice low until we passed through the gate and into the safety of the open courtyard. If we needed them, three guards were within shouting distance.

“I’m not sure it was in Saea’s name at all. They sounded like those sainters who hassle people in the park by the Sanctuary.”

“The ones who think the stars are going to go out?” I’d seen them too, shouting to all who’d listen that the stars would go black and the dark would fall, but one light would shine bright enough to, oh, I don’t know, chase away the shadows or something. I never listened for long. Their rants always brought soldiers, and soldiers brought trouble.

“Yeah. Maybe Baseer has its own sainters,” Danello said.

“Who are ranting about me.” It was worse than the gossip and the whispers. What I’d done wasn’t a sign from the Saints. It had been an accident. I’d only been trying to stop the Duke’s weapon and keep it from killing half of Baseer.

“It’s not you personally. They’re just trying to fit their crazy beliefs on to what happened. They did the same thing with that lightning storm last summer, remember? The one that set all those villas on fire?”

“True. Fingers of the Saints or something.” No one had listened to them, and some had even laughed. It was a pretty silly name.

We reached the farmhouse and pushed open the kitchen door. Ouea, Jeatar’s housemistress, sat at the table, peeling mangoes. Two girls sat on either side of her, smaller baskets of gold peppers in front of them. They twisted off the stems one by one.

Ouea looked up. “Nya, what happened? You’re white as salt.”

“A bunch of refugees think I’m the eighth saint.”

“They think what?”

Danello smiled. “Nya’s exaggerating, but there are some sainters out there talking about the flash in Baseer like it’s a sign from the Saints.”

Ouea tucked a greying strand of hair behind an ear. “People turn to faith when they’re frightened. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Probably not.” Especially when there was enough in my worry bowl already. “Maybe Jeatar knows where they came from.”

“Could be.” Ouea nodded.

“Can you ask him tomorrow?” Danello said. “I was hoping we could spend the day together. Fun, remember? You’ve been working so hard lately.”

With nothing to show for it. Three times we’d sneaked out to Baseer – or as close as we could get – to search for Tali. But the rumours had been false, and the leads had led nowhere.

Ouea cleared her throat. “Danello? Where’s my picnic basket?”

“Um.” He winced. “In the garden.”

“You weren’t going to leave it there, were you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then go get it.”

Danello looked at me, then at the door. Ouea kept staring at him over the basket of mangoes. Her two young helpers kept their eyes on the peppers, but both girls were trying hard not to giggle.

“Wait for me in the kitchen garden?” he asked. “We still have a picnic to finish.”

I smiled. “Definitely.”

Danello dashed out, and Ouea went back to peeling mangoes. “He’s a good boy, that one is. Even if he is a bit forgetful at times.”

“Yeah, he’s great.” I glanced towards the door to the rest of the farmhouse. It would take Danello a while to run all the way out to the pond and back. Surely I had time to see if there was any news about Tali or those sainters. I’d be in the kitchen garden before him. “Jeatar in the library?”

“Last I checked.”

Hope and dread tugged at my heart. Maybe today I’d find out where Tali was. Or maybe I’d learn there was no reason to look for her any more.

And Saints help me, I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Chapter Two

The library door was open but I knocked anyway. Onderaan and Jeatar looked up in unison. One smiled, one didn’t.

I frowned. “What happened?”

“Forget about going to Baseer,” Jeatar said, stone-faced as always.

“Why?” Please don’t say Tali’s dead. Please don’t.

“There’s massive troop movement along the river, and transport ships are being moved into the harbour. Looks like the Duke is mobilising his army.”

“Do you know where?”

“Not yet, but from the number of ships, it looks like an invasion.”

My chest tightened. “Geveg?”

“Or Verlatta, the mining towns, any of the river provinces.”

“If not all of them.” Onderaan shook his head and sighed deeply, for a moment looking so much like Papa I had to look away. It was still hard to believe he was my uncle. That I even had an uncle, let alone a Baseeri one. “This could be the start of a major campaign.”

I’d seen one of those before, five years ago when the Duke invaded Geveg and killed my parents. My Grannyma. When he burned the city of Sorille to the ground to kill his brothers – rivals for the throne.

“Any news from Geveg?” Last we’d heard, there were still riots, though it hadn’t turned into a full uprising yet. Information was sparse, since Jeatar had sent most of his spies and scouts to Baseer, but he had a few Gevegian contacts left.