Duskwoven (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 3) by Carrie Summers

Author:Carrie Summers [Summers, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lonely Crag Press
Published: 2017-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

Torchlight flickered across the ceilings as we filed through the tunnels. Around forty smugglers in Caffari’s band joined Nyralit and me, escorting ten Ulstat prisoners bound, injured, and limping. A few of Caffari’s thieves had stayed behind to cart the most precious of their treasures deeper into the mine. From what I’d overheard, they’d hurry to a safe house afterward.

When people spoke, the voices echoed through the passage, the stone walls throwing words back on top of words into a confusion confusing babble. The steady drip, drip of water punctuated our shuffling procession.

As I walked, Tyrak joined me in placing one foot before the other, shoring up my strength as my spirit healed. Nyralit and Daonok walked behind me, ready to catch me if I slipped. Beside me, Caffari strode with confidence. The regret over abandoning her hideout showed on her face, but she faced it bravely and with a good measure of hope. If we succeeded tonight, House Ulstat would no longer pose a threat. Afterward, their den would be all the more secure.

She glanced at me sideways and smirked. “You realize that undoing the Trader Council makes our particular occupation rather less lucrative. Not much honor in robbing commoners, and if the traders lose their fortunes, leaves us on dry shores.”

I hadn’t considered that. “But if there’s no trader class then—”

Her grin cut me off. “I was only teasing you. The fact is, any one of us would be happy to make an honest living, but we haven’t felt able under Council rule.”

“You know,” I said. “If you come with me to Ioene, there’ll be plenty of riches to go around.”

Nyralit laughed quietly. “Always trying to turn things her way,” she said with pride in her voice. “Should’ve been born a trader.”

“Fact is, we lost good friends tonight,” Caffari said. “After we help you in this, we’ll be off licking our wounds for a while.”

I nodded. I couldn’t blame her, though her sword would be welcome against Mieshk.

“What made you become a thief?” I asked.

When she looked at me, her eyes gleamed. “Thinking of taking up the trade?”

I like this particular rogue, Tyrak said.

“It’s just . . . You don’t seem the ruthless type.”

“Well,” Caffari said. “You haven’t seen me at my worst. As it happens, I’ve never known another life. I was born aboard a smuggling vessel.”

“Your parents were pirates?” I asked.

She laughed. “My mother was, but as for my father, I couldn’t say. Never knew him.”

“Did he die when you were too young to remember?”

She shook her head. “My mother wasn’t the type to marry. He'd vanished by the time I was born.”

“What drew her to the . . . trade?” I asked.

Caffari’s eyes grew distant as she stared into the tunnel ahead. “She was an Outer Islander by birth. Lived in one of those little scrappy villages until she was eighteen. She worked the docks, helping bring in the catch, and one day a foreign captain tied up. Villages in the Outer Isles could rarely

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