Chapter Three
Na’ilah had felt the island long before the storm came. There was a sense of death in the wind, and though the stars had become veiled, she knew exactly which direction she was being drawn. Fa’arloen, however, was not so confident. Even though they had survived the great waves crashing through the Breach, there was something foul within this storm, and he feared the Silent Siren would not see them through.
“Continue west,” Na’ilah commanded. “We’re close.”
She stood beside the wheel, her gaze piercing the horizon, though it was shrouded by dark clouds burning against the rays of the setting sun.
‘utliq Sarahi release me
‘ana ‘antazir I am waiting.
Her confidence growing, she turned to Fa’arloen with a fire in her eyes.
“Land lies beyond that storm, captain, so through it we must pass. A test I will ensure we all survive.”
She saw Fa’arloen’s knees almost buckle, for he had seen her rise upon the Souls of the Dead in order to escape the Breach. She knew he feared what they sought, but he stood tall, then shouted to his men.
“Our ship is light. Let’s make her dance through this storm across the seas!”
No sooner had he said those words, lightning struck far ahead, and thunder erupted across the sky. As they entered the true storm, their ship was tossed in all directions, yet Na’ilah remained standing on deck, her mind linked to the whispers reaching across the sea.
“‘ana qadim,” she whispered against the raging storm. “I am coming.”
She felt the first of the spires rising from the depths. Though their numbers were few, the Dead lay trapped within. She felt them rising to claim her; the spires reaching for their ship, but she pushed them aside, watching the deadly towers of rock pierce the surface close by. Silent Siren surged beyond them, their passage kept dark by clouds smothering both starlight and the moon, yet to Na’ilah the rising spires were like firelights lighting her way, the Souls of the Dead visible in her mind.
They battled on, fighting their way west into the deepening night, until at last, Na’ilah saw the main island glowing ahead. It loomed from the mist, the pale green wisps of the Dead penetrating her sight long before the others saw anything within the storm.
“Push her north,” she shouted to Fa’arloen, seeing spires protecting a smaller island in their path. Death permeated it’s rim, the glow encasing the entire perimeter, but she turned her attention to the main mass of land, as a flash of lightning lit up the sky and exposed the smoking spire.
“Get us closer,” she said. Fa’arloen nodded, believing they’d find shelter from the storm, though he’d been unaware of how many deadly spires Na’ilah had veered their ship around. Having remained on the lower deck, Loviisa fought her way up the stairs to stand at Na’ilah’s side.
“Can you guide us in?”
Na’ilah concentrated on the Souls of the Dead. They permeated the entire island, their glow marking the form of each rock. Never had she seen such death. Not even in Nazh-rndu’ul had the Dead been so visible. They had appeared as faint wisps at the edge of her sight, but here they were strong. This was their domain, and they were calling her home.
“Head north toward the cliffs,” she said calmly to Fa’arloen. “There’s something there, penetrating the island.”
Though the others caught only sharp glimpses as lightning flashed above, Na’ilah saw a black pit burrowing through the cliffs, an area absent of death. Sharp spires protect the inlet like lower canines of a great beast. Knowing that was their only way in, she sent all her thought toward the spires guarding that harbour.
I am the Daughter of al-Din. I have come to claim his power. Let me in.
She felt an instant shift within the wind.
“Wind’s changed,” one of the sailors shouted. “It’s pulling us in.”
Backed by the trailing wind, Silent Siren lurched and aimed straight for the great jaws of stone.
'araa almawta. I see Death.
laqad han alwaqt lileawdat 'iilaa alsahra'i. It is time to return to the desert.
Na’ilah’s voice carried upon the wind. A great spire surged before them, sending their ship slightly off course.
“Keep her aimed for that canyon,” Na’ilah shouted, aware that the island was now just visible in the storm. With each flash of lightning they were aware of more spires piercing the sea, yet Na’ilah was steadfast, her mind set on shifting those spires in their path.
‘ana nayilatun. bint aldiyni. I am Na’ilah. Daughter of al-Din.
Another spire rose from the water, this time much closer on the port side. With every ounce of her being, she connected with the minds of the Dead, forcing them to curb their desire of destruction and let their ship pass, until a sharp pain suddenly tore through her mind, and she lost control to another.
‘ant la tastahiqu You are not worthy, came the voice of Izz al-Din as the spire shredded the side of Silent Siren’s hull.
‘ant last wahidan. You are not One.
A second spire suddenly rose ahead of them on the starboard side. It pushed a surge of water against them, crushing them against the portside spire.
“We’re breached,” a call came from the lower deck amid the sound of cracking wood. The ship spun, unable to hold its frame, and was cast closer to the island as a great hole was gauged through the upper hull.
“That’s our only hope,” she shouted to Fa’arloen, pointing to a chasm piercing the great cliffs. “Get as far in as you can. If need be we’ll swim.”
Alarm crossed the old man’s face, but instinct took hold and he shouted to his men.
“All sails full,” he commanded, recognising their one chance before water flooded the lower decks and sunk the ship. His men jumped into action, pulling the sails as tight as they could, extracting every ounce of wind to reach the safety of the chasm, but the moment they thought they were free, a spire tore through the hull as they surge down the crest of a wave, the crew thrown to the deck as the ship snagged upon the rock. A wave surged over the deck, and Na’ilah watched helplessly as two men were swept overboard.
“The ship’s lost. We’ll be torn to shreds,” Fa’arloen called out as Elsa, Mihja and Terttu arrived on the upper deck. Na’ilah stumbled forward toward the railing, watching the bodies of the two fallen men. They fought as long as they could, but a surge caught them and smashed their heads into the island’s main cliffs. Their death was instant, but not natural. She felt Izz al-Din reach out and claim them, their souls immediately consumed within the island, then she felt his power move on.
Running to the front of the ship, she saw the spire punching through the side of the hull.
“Abandon ship,” she called out. “I’ll get us to dry land.”
The others stood with their mouths open, wondering what could be done against such a storm.
“You heard her,” Loviisa shouted. “Move!”
Elsa was the next to regather her senses.
“All of you, overboard,” she commanded of Fa’arloen’s men. “Do exactly as she says.”
Loviisa gathered Mihja and Terttu and brought them to Na’ilah’s side.
“It’s here,” Na’ilah said. “Do whatever you can to survive.”
They nodded, then immediately followed Fa’arloen and his crew overboard. Ropes were tight to the railings, and they lowered until they stood upon the tip of the spire. Na’ilah quickly joined them, knowing one surge could cast them all into the raging sea. She knelt and placed her hand against the stone, feeling the Souls of the Dead writhing deep below.
‘ana nayilatun. bint aldiyni. laqad jit litahrirki.
I am Na’ilah. Daughter of al-Din. I have come to set you free.
She felt conflict within the minds of the Dead. They seemed confused, for all they had ever known was the mind of Izz al-Din, but as Na’ilah reached out and found the minds of Fa’arloen’s dead crewmen, their souls sought to escape this island and return to their home.
Pulling the Dead toward her, buoyed by the curiosity of others unfamiliar with the concept of being free, she began forming a thin bridge between the spire and the cliffs. Stone merged as the Dead reached out, clamouring on top of each other in a bid to reach this new mind, yet the moment the gap was bridged, Na’ilah let the souls go free. She felt their anger at being used, but beneath it all, she felt the anguish of the two dead men, who finally seemed aware that they would never return home.
“Go,” she commanded. One by one the crew ran ashore. Elsa made sure that Mihja and Terttu safely followed. Na’ilah stayed connected to the island until only her and Loviisa remained, but as she was about to release her power, she felt the mind of Izz al-Din surge elsewhere, to a point beyond the small island off the coast.
“Ohrl,” she whispered, his presence felt upon the sea. Izz al-Din’s rage was no longer directed upon them, for Ohrl had no control over the Dead, and Izz al-Din would see him as of an imposter seeking to claim the final stone. Doing all that she could, she felt the Dead rise within the spires surrounding Ohrl’s ship, then the sudden awareness came of the Souls trapped within Dawn’s Eclipse. They were her domain, not Izz al-Din’s, so before she made her way safely to the island, she steered Dawn’s Eclipse to safe harbour within the small island, making sure they found land as quickly as they could.
Watching on from a nook in the cliffs high above, a near naked warrior stared at the strange woman who seemed to have control over stone. Her hood had been pulled back, and at first he was stuck by her straight, dark hair, similar to his own, but as all others panicked, she alone stood against the storm. He did not understand what the beast was that had carried them here. It had died upon the spires, but he was surprised that no soul came from its form. Intrigued, he watched the woman kneel against the spire despite the danger of water surging all around. She seemed connected, then suddenly rose, running for safety with her friend across the newly formed bridge. The moment she reached the island, the storm seemed to fade. He didn’t understand who she was or where she came from, but these were questions for the elders, so he left his perch where he would catch ocean birds and ran to warn his village.
Glad to be alive and on dry land, Na’ilah ushered the others from the cliffs until they breached the tree line. Here, the Dead did not permeate the stone beneath their feet. They seemed congregated along the coast and inland. Within this chasm, something else seemed to keep them at bay.
“It’s too dark to go too far,” she said, finding shelter under a tall tree. “We’ll find our way inland come the dawn.”
The others slumped down against the soft undergrowth, but Elsa remained standing.
“We’ll need supplies from the ship. Waterskins, at the very least.”
“If it hasn’t already been torn apart,” Fa’arloen said. “She did well to get us here, but she’s wedged tight on those rocks. It won’t be long in that storm before she breaks. Then we’re stuck.”
“No,” Na’ilah said, looking beyond the trees to the distant island. “Ohrl has come. He’s on the other side of that island onboard Dawn’s Eclipse.”
Else turned to her, surprised.
“Baelin?”
“I’m not sure,” Na’ilah said. “Though I doubt your brother would leave Nazh-rndu’ul. I felt Ohrl and that ship when I connected with the stone. I did as much as I could to help them survive.”
Pushing his tired frame off the ground, Fa’arloen rose to join them.
“Much like Sama’ad, your power over the Dead gives you strength against stone. You saved us, for that I am grateful, but why run Ohrl and the Eclipse aground and out of reach?”
Na’ilah looked to the forest and the stone beneath the trees. There was a sweet smell of fresh air. She’d smelled nothing like it save within the forests of Brúnn. Despite knowing that death lay all around, life filled the canyon, and she breathed it in as though it could be her last.
“Ohrl is not equipped to conquer what we’ll find on this island,” she announced to them all. “To be honest, I’m not sure I am either. I’d rather discover what we face before he arrives. The power of the island wasn’t so strong where he was. At least there, Dawn’s Eclipse will be safe, and we have a chance of returning home.”
The arrival of Baelin’s great warship came as great relief to the crew, but Na’ilah and the other women knew their chance of surviving this island was still slim. Finding shelter under the thick canopy, they huddled together to keep warm, sleeping out the night as best they could. When dawn broke, the storm had abated, and though Silent Siren had disintegrated a little, it remained intact enough to go back onboard and gather everything they required. From the deck, they could see the multitude of spires resting just below the surface.
“You did well,” Loviisa said, placing an encouraging hand on Na’ilah’s arm. Na’ilah looked to the smaller island, wondering how Ohrl fared, then helped the others gather water, clothes and as much dried food as they could find. Leaving Silent Siren, they crossed back to the cliff and entered the jungle, following the chasm as it pierced the interior. Cliffs rose steeply either side of the water, but they descended toward a distinct flat ridge near the base that followed the curve of the chasm.
“It’s paved,” one of Fa’arloen’s men said, kneeling to scrape away old vines. They crumbled under his touch, the dust blowing away in the breeze. Na’ilah took a few more paces, realising the path had been paved with flat, foot-long stones.
“Any idea who would have built this?” Loviisa asked.
“We had no idea anyone even lived beyond the Breach,” Elsa said. “Look, on the other side of the water. This was a city.”
Na’ilah followed her gaze, seeing remnants of stone archways and steps carved into the cliff, half hidden beneath large, gnarled roots and thick vines twisting around towering trees.
“Who were they?” she whispered, then remembered the vast number of souls trapped within the island.
“It’s not a city,” she said, suddenly afraid. “It’s a tomb.”
Feeling suddenly exposed, the hairs pricked on her neck as whispers echoed throughout the chasm.
aqtilha. Kill her.
laqad ja'at litutalib bimawtika. She has come to claim the Dead.
Na’ilah flinched at the pain, the whispers stinging her mind.
“Can you hear that?” Elsa exclaimed. “It’s coming from the cliffs.”
Regathering her strength, Na’ilah eased them away.
“It’s Izz al-Din,” she said as a warning to the others. “He calls the Dead.”
She stood facing the opposite cliffs, waiting to see the broken forms of the Undead erupt from the stone, but Terttu stood before her, turned instead to the cliff rising on their side of the ravine.
“It’s not the Dead,” she said calmly. “This city still belongs to the living.”
Fighting the pressure building in her mind, Na’ilah followed Terttu’s gaze and saw, emerging from similar alcoves hidden within gnarled trees, hundreds of primitively clothed warriors. Both men and women wore loose animal skins to cover their groin, and while the muscular men remained bare chested, the women wore intricately woven bird feathers to cover their breasts. Covered from head to toe in mud, their forms blended into the natural surroundings. All carried long spears either in hand or strapped to their back, with some also holding long pipes made of thick reed.
Yet it was the gold necklaces worn by those more decoratively adorned that caught Na’ilah’s eye. Two crescent moons, the mark of the Founders of Sira’an, the same constellation that guided them to the island. She turned to the opposite cliff, seeing more warriors emerge from the tunnels built into the stone. All eyes were upon her, and she realised they knew of her power over the Dead.
biasm aldiyn raghbatukum kadhibatun.
In the name of the faith, your desire is false.
Na’ilah almost buckled under the pain. The whispers tore at her mind, wrenching her apart as though trying to unravel her Weave. Forcing the voice aside, Na’ilah gathered her strength once more and stood before the warriors with pride.
“Asmi Nayila,” she called out, stating her name, hoping they understood the language of the ancients. “Manziluk maleunu. Your home is cursed. Laqad jit litahrirki. I come to set you free.”
One of the warriors stepped forward, an older woman, her face wrinkled with age. Another woman stepped beside her and whispered in her ear. She looked to her people gathered within the cliffs, then began a low chant. Her voice intoned throughout the chasm, then was soon joined by others. Na’ilah could not understand what was being said, but she felt a pressure build in her mind.
“We are the living,” she heard Loviisa say. “Do they not see we are on their side?”
Na’ilah tried to stand tall before them, but found the pressure spread down her spine.
“Asmi Nayila aldiyn,” she called out again. “Daughter of the Faith. I can free you from the Dead.”
Beneath the chanting, she heard a mocking laughter.
‘ant la shay'a. ‘ant tiflu You are nothing. You are a child.
This time her legs gave way, and she knew this was the voice of Izz al-Din. She collapsed to the ground, and the warriors’ chanting increased.
'ana warith mamlakat aldiyni. 'ant kahini. sawf tanhani 'amami.
I am heir to the Kingdom of the Faith. You are my Priest. You will bow before me.
Na’ilah screamed in pain as Izz al-Din mocked her desire
almutalabat biha. Claim her, came his command to the warriors.'ahdaraha li. Bring her to me.
From the opposite cliff above, the woman leader looked to a large male warrior who had stepped from the shadows near Na’ilah on the same side of the ravine. He carried a pipe instead of a spear, which he raised to his lips, inhaled a deep breath, then blew a dart across the path, aimed at Na’ilah’s neck. Too weak to move, Na’ilah could barely react, but was shoved aside by Loviisa, and the dart became buried in the cheek of one of Fa’arloen’s men. He clutched his face in pain, then his eyes rolled back as the poison took effect.
“I must prove my power over the Dead,” Na’ilah rasped, knowing this was the second test to gain entry into the island. Feeling Loviisa’s blade against her shoulder, she forced herself abruptly to her feet and pulled the blade free, quickly slicing the sailor’s throat.
“In the name of al-Din,” she whispered, killing the man herself before the poison could do its work. Shocked by her actions, the chanting suddenly stopped. Under her control, his body fell, but Na’ilah gathered her strength and took a firm grip upon the sailor’s soul.
“I have come to claim the Dead and free this island of its curse.”
She did not bother to translate what she’d said, Instead, she forced the sailor to run forward with his blade raised, aiming for the large male warrior with the pipe. More darts were fired, each one penetrating their target, but the sailor was already dead, impervious to the poison’s effect. Na’ilah felt his soul release into the island, and found it gave her strength. Afraid, many of the island warriors began to flee, disappearing into hidden alcoves, but the woman leader remained, her eyes locked on Na’ilah. Aware that she still needed the woman’s help, Na’ilah felt the Dead deep within the stone. Izz al-Din’s mocking laughter still echoed in her mind, but her anger drove her to claim enough of those he assumed were his own. They rose within the labyrinth of tunnels, trapping those who sought to escape. The Dead emerged from every wall, forcing the warriors back into the open. Some resisted, and were partially dragged within the stone. Fearful of the companions’ screams, those who fought their way back to the ravine were now trapped with nowhere to go at the edge of the cliffs, unable to resist as the Dead reached out to claim them from the stone and attempt to drag them back in.
“Asmi Nayila Aldiyn,” she repeated. “I have power over death.”
Soon, all but the woman leader was bound against the cliff. She watched in horror as her people writhed in pain. She turned to Na’ilah, afraid of what would be done, but Na’ilah desired to kill them all, knowing the souls killed in her name would give her strength against those protecting Izz al-Din.
“Release them,” Mihja suddenly shouted, standing between Na’ilah and the woman leader. “Na’ilah. Release them.”
Everyone turned to her, for she had always been the quietest of them all, yet now she dared to command Na’ilah while at the height of becoming consumed by her own power.
“They can help,” Mihja begged, severing Na’ilah’s view. “Show them mercy. Allow them the chance to become loyal through admiration, not fear, as you did with us.”
Na’ilah felt the power of the island surging through her. It was beyond anything she’d felt, even after she’d claimed Sama’ad’s stone. Death was all there was, everything except that mocking laugh.
“She’s right,” Loviisa said, placing a hand on Na’ilah’s arm. “You said it yourself. Izz al-Din kept this canyon for the living. Don’t destroy the one ally we might have.”
Izz al-Din’s mockery could still be heard within the whispers, but despite her desire to claim sever his hold, Na’ilah let the warriors go. Released by the Dead, they all collapsed to the ground, scrambling as far away from the cliffs as they could. The warrior woman stepped forward, regarding Na’ilah with a mixture of fear and hope. Feeling calmness return, Na’ilah placed her hand to her heart and lowered her head. The woman continued to stare, no doubt judging what should be done, then gestured to the warriors closest to Na’ilah and the others. The warriors bowed low, clearly still afraid of what had just occurred, but one stepped forward and gestured for Na’ilah and the others to follow.