Asunder by Kerstin Hall

Author:Kerstin Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

CHAPTER

26

Pavian could not help them.

Karys spoke to his apparition first. She was shaken and sick and fumbling. With his body still warm under her hands, it should have been the easiest speaking she had ever performed. Instead, she could barely bring herself to open the Veneer. Peeling back the fabric, a nauseous, primal wave of fear rose up in her; she could taste the lurid colours, smell the acid chaos of the other side. It was Boäz all over again—she had not touched the Veneer since falling into the Penitence Pool, and now, with her hand resting on a corpse’s shoulder, the copper smell of blood in the air, she felt paralysed.

Pavian’s flesh was ashen and pale. His dark spectacles sat askew; his eyes were glassy behind them, fixed upon the blue sky. He smelled like sweat.

I’m sorry, Karys thought, and steeled herself.

In death, he proved inexpressive, answering her questions with dull indifference, and never growing agitated. His resentful aggression was stripped away, and he appeared as a wan, flat spectre. Usually, some trace of personality lingered in the memories of the dead—with Pavian, there was a void.

Had he seen New Favour saints in the Riddled Gorge before?

No.

Had anything seemed especially unusual about this border crossing?

No, only the timing.

Nothing strange about Rasko, nothing that struck him as suspicious?

No and no.

Before leaving Miresse, had he talked to anyone about the job?

No, he never did. He seldom talked to anyone, unless it was necessary for work.

Winola sat by the river with her body angled away from the gristly scene, while Haeki carefully cleaned the blood from her face. The gash to her eyebrow was shallow; the saint’s flail had only caught the rim of her glasses. Whatever workings powered his weapon had sheared through the guise, causing it to explode in the scholar’s face. Half an inch lower, and she would have lost her eye. With light, deft fingers, Haeki placed a small strip of gauze over the cut. She said something to Winola, quiet and serious. The scholar did not respond.

“Can you give me directions out of the canyon?” Karys asked Pavian.

There was a pause. An expression of mild consternation crossed the apparition’s face.

“I only know the way when I see it,” he said slowly.

Karys’ stomach tightened.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “There must be landmarks. How do you know the right path?”

“It feels right.”

“No, tell me about features. Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know where I am.”

Haeki looked over at Karys. Her face was almost as blank as Pavian’s. “What is he saying?”

Karys waved for her to be quiet. She kept her tone neutral.

“I need you to describe your usual path through the Gorge,” she said.

No matter how she rephrased the question and coaxed, the apparition could tell her nothing. The ghost’s expression was placid, uncurious; he was maddeningly apathetic. Karys knew it wasn’t his fault, but she found herself growing increasingly frustrated with every dull-voiced reply. The sun was moving across the sky, and she was getting nowhere.

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