Race the Sands

by Sarah Beth Durst

  “Silence!”

  The nearest dozen kehoks also quieted. She felt Yorbel staring at her. “I won’t let anyone hurt my girl,” Tamra said as an explanation. “Either of my girls.”

  She strode through the stable. Halfway down, she found the stall that had been assigned to their kehok. As she hoped, inside was Raia, with her lion. Standing in front of the lion as if she were protecting him, Raia was stroking his mane and murmuring to him.

  Seeing her, Tamra felt as if she could breathe again. She’d been imagining Raia swept into the crowd, trampled, battered, crushed beneath feet and fists. Quickly, Tamra examined Raia. She looked unhurt.

  Shalla rushed toward her. “Raia!”

  Blocking her, Tamra said, “Stay outside the stall.” Shalla halted, as did Yorbel.

  Also stopping outside the stall door, Lady Evara snapped at Raia, “What were you thinking? Accusing the high augurs of murder and treason? You started a riot, girl!”

  Raia stood her ground, even in the face of Lady Evara’s fury. “He remembered them. He was afraid of them. Because they killed him!”

  “Impossible,” Yorbel said gently. “Raia, I know how hard this is for you. You’ve become close to your kehok, and it’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot together. It’s human nature to—”

  Tamra cut him off. “If she says the high augurs killed him, I believe her.”

  Yorbel’s mouth dropped open.

  If he expected me to always agree with him just because he’s been nice . . . “You can’t say it’s impossible. Think about it: they have access to all the gold in the temples. More than enough to attempt to bribe Lady Evara, pay off Raia’s parents, and hire that false guard to poison the kehok. And if anyone could create an anti-victory charm, it’s them. Am I right about that?”

  She could see truth and belief warring on his face. “I do say it’s impossible,” Yorbel said firmly. “The high augurs are the purest of the pure!”

  Shalla, to Tamra’s surprise, spoke up. “How would you know?”

  “I . . . In order to become a high augur . . .” Yorbel began.

  “But you can’t read an augur’s aura,” Shalla said. “I learned that. Once you become skilled enough to read auras, no one can read yours. Augur Clari herself told me that.”

  “Smart girl,” Lady Evara said. “A very valid point. Well, Augur Yorbel, do you know that the high augurs are still as pure as they were the day they were chosen for their rank, or could their souls possibly be stained with regicide and worse?”

  He looked sick. “No augur would—”

  Tamra laid a hand on his arm. She knew this had to be a terrible thing for him to contemplate. “You wouldn’t, because you’re a good man.”

  Raia said with no trace of doubt in her voice, “They’ll kill him! And they won’t use the charm. He’ll be a kehok again, but he won’t remember me, and I won’t be able to find him. And then Dar . . . he won’t become emperor. I don’t know what will happen to Dar!”

  Yorbel swayed, and Tamra wondered if he was going to faint. He looked as if all the blood had drained out of him. “Sweet Lady,” he whispered. “I do know what will happen to him. But . . . No! It won’t come to that! Raia won. Zarin will be given the victory charm.”

  “Can you be certain?” Lady Evara asked.

  “The high augurs would never—”

  “Ugh, you’re impossible,” Lady Evara said. “Expand your mind! Raia, you know that monster best. Is there any chance that he was wrong? Or is there any chance that you misread what he was trying to say? Can you ask him again?”

  Raia knelt by the lion’s face and began to murmur at him, stroking his mane. He leaned against her as if exhausted. No ordinary kehok would ever act like this, Tamra thought. With this kehok, she could believe virtually anything.

  “I don’t . . . know,” Raia said. “I think his memories come and go. I think . . . I think he recognized Dar . . . the emperor-to-be, I mean . . . the other night. He seemed like he might have, but I wasn’t sure. Prince Dar was sure, though. And then today, as soon as he saw the high augurs . . . he . . .” She stopped as if there was something more she wanted to say but wasn’t sure she’d be believed. She pleaded with Tamra. “You know he’s always understood more than any kehok could! Tell them, Trainer Verlas!”

  “He has shown an understanding of what we say and what we do,” Tamra agreed.

  Yorbel pushed. “Are you certain he was reacting in fear of the high augurs? Couldn’t he have been reacting to fear of what would happen to him next?”

  “It’s possible . . .” Raia said. She had tears pooling in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

  “Yes!” Yorbel said, seizing on that ray of hope. “Every being fears death, even knowing there is life on the other side. It means the end of your current existence, and an adventure into the unknown. Perhaps he feared the unknown!”

  “He could have been afraid of dying,” Raia whispered. “I was . . . I was thinking how I was afraid of him being killed. And of how much I’ll miss him.” She looked at the lion as if he were a dear friend, not a murderous monster. “Could he . . . Could he have been reacting to me?”

  “Maybe,” Tamra said. In which case, speaking out against the high augurs would be the worst thing they could do. The best would be to wait out the riot, then bring the kehok to the temple, let things proceed, and have the emperor-to-be find his brother’s new vessel and be crowned emperor. Exactly as they’d planned.

  But if we’re wrong . . .

  Out by the dais, Raia had reacted so strongly. And she knew the kehok better than anyone. If that was what she felt he was trying to say, and if all they were doing now was making her doubt herself . . . I trust her. “You sounded certain out there.” And all the arguments were still valid—the augurs could have made the anti-victory charm and used it. Or paid someone to use it on the late emperor.

  “I was. I am!”

  “What are even our choices here?” Lady Evara asked. “Do nothing, or lob unproveable accusations at the most powerful people in our land until they decide to squash us like bugs?”

  “He needs to be killed and reborn as human,” Tamra said. That’s how we all win, she thought. “No one knows the lion is Emperor Zarin. This can still work.” As soon as Zarin was reborn, Prince Dar could announce he’d found his late brother’s vessel and be coronated. Then as emperor, he could deal with the mess that was the high augurs and whether or not they were guilty. It will cease to be my problem.

  “But how can we be sure the high augurs will follow through with the ritual?” Raia asked. “If they’re guilty, all they have to do is not use the victory charm, and they’ll escape unscathed.”

  Tamra had an idea. “What if it doesn’t happen behind sealed doors? What if the emperor-to-be were to insist that the grand champion kehok be killed in public, with the victory charm visible for all to see?”

  Looking immensely relieved, Yorbel nodded. “That’s not too much to ask. The augurs can prove their innocence, and the wrong that was done to Zarin and Dar will be fixed, at least as much as it can be. Right will prevail, and goodness will be restored.”

  Lady Evara waved her hand. “Yes, yes. All of that. Very relieved we didn’t reach the conclusion that we needed to raise an army, storm the temple, and lay siege to the city, because I have to host a celebratory party later tonight. So . . . we just waltz out of here with the racer and rider who just caused a riot and say oops, sorry, but can you slaughter this lion for us where we can see the blood? Yes?”

  The lion growled.

  Tamra thought he might have understood that. “We need to get him to the emperor-to-be, explain the situation and Raia’s suspicions, and then have Prince Dar tell the high augurs what they need to do to prove their innocence. If they’re innocent, they’ll do it. If they’re not . . . what choice will they have? They’ll have to, or they’ll be admitting their guilt.”

  “Lovely! I see no holes in your plan!” Lady Evara clapped enthu
siastically. “I’m sure the guards will be thrilled to let us see the emperor-to-be now. Or as our rider so familiarly calls him, Dar. Especially if we come in the company of the girl who accused the most holy people in the empire of depravity, the monster whose disobedience started a riot, and their trainer, infamous for last year’s disaster at finals.”

  Tamra crossed to one of the narrow slit windows and peered out. It was worse than she expected. More soldiers had arrived, drawn from the local battalion, and were marching through, trying to stop the riot without harming any Becarans, but the spectators were rushing past them, wrecking the camp. The augurs had fanned out, calming people where they could, but they couldn’t be everywhere . . . and they were now part of the problem too. She wondered if people had been killed, trampled, or attacked. She looked back at Shalla and Raia.

  Shalla was kneeling next to Raia with her arm around her. Raia was in too deep. She couldn’t be sent away. But Shalla . . . Tamra didn’t want her anywhere near the racetrack or the palace or any of this mess. She certainly didn’t want her to witness the high augurs killing the kehok, if that was where this led. And that’s the best-case scenario. Worst . . . we’re arrested for Raia’s accusation. Or was it worst case if Raia was right, and the high augurs were the emperor’s enemy? She didn’t know what she was hoping for. She just knew that their victory had turned into disaster, and her first responsibility was to protect Shalla and Raia as best she could. Raia and I can’t go out there. We’d be recognized. But an innocent bystander could, with an innocent girl. “Yorbel, you’ve masqueraded as an ordinary citizen before. Can you do it again and get Shalla to safety?”

  “Yes, of course,” Yorbel said.

  “Hide somewhere in the city,” Tamra said. “As far from the riots as you can get. Don’t come out until this is all over.”

  “But, Mama!” Shalla cried. “I can help!”

  Tamra knelt beside her. “You can help by being away from danger, while Lady Evara, Raia, and I save Raia’s racer, okay?”

  Shalla continued to protest, but Tamra overruled her. She hugged her tight.

  “I swear I’ll protect her,” Yorbel said.

  “I trust you,” Tamra said, both as a statement and a threat.

  “And where will you be?” Yorbel asked. “Lady Evara is right—you and Raia cannot approach the palace. You’ll be held responsible for starting the chaos outside.”

  Lady Evara sighed dramatically. “Very well, I nominate myself.”

  Tamra nodded. It wasn’t a terrible idea. Lady Evara was far more likely to be admitted to the palace on her own, and Tamra, to her own surprise, trusted her. “We’ll hide here and wait for you to send word.”

  “Good,” Lady Evara said. “And don’t hesitate to use the charming brutes around you to defend yourselves, if need be. No one will dare come near a stable full of rampaging kehoks. If you can keep them from goring you, you should be perfectly safe. I will send word as soon as I can, and then you bring the kehok. With luck, this will all be resolved by sundown.”

  While Raia stayed with her lion, Tamra shepherded Lady Evara, Yorbel, and Shalla to the door. She hefted up the bar that locked it. Hugging Shalla one more time, Tamra shooed them all out. She then retreated, barred the door again, and watched out one of the tiny windows. Lady Evara, with all her self-confidence wrapped around her like armor, plowed through the crowd in the direction of the palace, while Yorbel, without his robes and with his augur pendant hidden, spirited Shalla off in the opposite direction, away from the racetrack.

  And then they were out of sight, and Tamra was left with Raia and several hundred kehoks, as well as a slew of regrets. Should I have gone with Lady Evara? Should I have kept Shalla here? But it was too late now. The decisions were made, the plans enacted, and all that was left for her to do was hope that nothing else went wrong.

  Dar eyed the emperor’s throne. You should be sitting here, Zarin. None of this should have ever happened. He lowered himself into the chair one step down on the dais and smoothed his robes. He told himself he had to remain calm.

  Raia’s words were ringing in his head.

  Could she be right?

  He’d summoned the high augurs to the palace. If the allegations were true, then the high augurs had to be removed from their temple, stripped of any political power, and imprisoned. If they were false, then he needed to clear their names as quickly as possible and calm the riots that were erupting all over the city.

  The high augurs filed into the throne room in a solemn line. Palace guards flanked them, then split to take their positions in a semicircle. All eight high augurs wore their hoods up and had their hands clasped in front of them, and Dar tried to remind himself that he wasn’t a child being judged—they were the ones whose integrity was in question.

  The eldest high augur stepped forward. Dar noted that he did not bow. “We have come on a serious matter,” High Augur Etar said.

  “Yes,” Dar said heavily. I don’t want to do this. The augurs, especially the high augurs, were supposed to be as pure as the stars, the guiding lights of their people. If Raia’s allegation was true, this was going to gut so many Becarans. How could it be true? There had to be another explanation. “I was shocked and distressed by the serious allegations—”

  High Augur Etar cut him off. “It is our belief that the late emperor Zarin, long may his soul thrive, did not die a natural death.”

  Dar hadn’t been interrupted since Zarin died. And was the high augur admitting involvement? Dar’s hands curled around the armrests of his chair, gripping them hard, as the augur continued. He met the eyes of the nearest guard, who tightened her grip on her spear.

  “It is a suspicion we have held for some time, but our resources did not lead us to the one responsible until today.”

  “A credible source named you—” Dar began.

  “A desperate attempt to cast blame elsewhere,” High Augur Etar interrupted. “She will be dealt with. The fact, however, remains that her outburst did direct us to examine one we previously considered above blame.”

  Dar rose. “One of your own?” Perhaps this crime was the actions of one rogue high augur. Perhaps the council had been unaware of his or her actions. That could be the best-case scenario here. “I am deeply saddened—”

  “Your Excellence, we examined your aura and have found you guilty of the murder of your brother, guilty of high treason against the Empire of Becar.” All the high augurs bowed their heads, their hands clasped in front of them in a sign of mourning.

  Dar heard a kind of roaring in his ears. He felt himself begin to shake. This is absurd! Me? Of course I didn’t kill my brother! He heard gasps from his guards. “How dare you—”

  “Your soul has been stained beyond recognition.” High Augur Etar signaled to the guards. “I myself have borne witness to its corruption.”

  Dar backed up, thumping against his chair. “There’s been a mistake! Guards!” But there hadn’t been a mistake, he realized. This was intentional. Well planned, even. The palace guards were loyal to him, but only to a point. In matters of morality, the high augurs outranked him, and the guards would listen to them. He hadn’t expected them to flip the tables like this. “You killed Zarin. Or had him killed. Why? Zarin was a good man! A great emperor!”

  As if on cue, the high augurs parted, and Lady Nori was standing there, framed between them. She had tears streaking her cheeks, blurring her eye paint. “Dar, how could you? Zarin loved you! He practically raised you! To turn on him because of your design for power—I didn’t think it of you.”

  He stared at her. This felt like a second knife strike to the heart. “You too? Are you involved in this? I never thought you would betray me.” It was difficult to even say the words. Nori . . .

  “You betrayed yourself,” Nori said sadly. “Your jealousy of your brother undid you. But your plan failed, Dar. The high augurs were clever enough to hide your brother’s vessel. Without him, you couldn’t be legitimized.”

  “But .
. . it’s a lie!” I found him! he wanted to scream, but he stopped himself. It was still possible that they didn’t know the black lion was Zarin. If he could keep that knowledge from the augurs, he could at least keep Zarin safe. And Raia, who would try to protect him. He hoped they’d fled far away by now.

  “The high augurs do not lie,” Nori said. “Dar, please don’t make this more difficult than it already is. You know as well as I do that the high augurs are incapable of such an atrocity.”

  She was right. Yet he knew they had done it.

  He backed up to the edge of the dais. There was nowhere to run. The palace guards and high augurs were between him and every exit, and the aristocrats of the court were beginning to drift closer, listening and whispering. I trapped myself. He’d been so sure he was safe, here in his palace. Foolish. He’d been oh-so-cleverly outmaneuvered. “I did not kill my brother,” he said firmly. “I loved him deeply, and I never wanted to be emperor. You know that, Nori. You know me.”

  “I used to think I did. But now . . . Believe me, this is the last thing that I wanted. But we cannot hesitate, if Becar is to be saved. An army approaches from Ranir, and a riot rages in our streets. You, I fear, are beyond saving.” She drew herself upright, looking regal. “Guards, take him away.”

  The guards marched as one toward him. He froze. He could not believe this was happening—the high augurs, Nori . . . A second before they reached him, he spun, scanning the windows, looking for an escape. But there wasn’t one.

  “Lady Nori,” High Augur Etar said, “it is our recommendation that your coronation ceremony be conducted at sundown—word of it will calm the citizens, and a fast coronation will enable the military to respond to the external threat.”

  “You are wise,” Nori said. “It shall be done.”

  It was all absurd. It was all just flimsy words. And if it had just been Nori, this would have been easily dismissed. But for the high augurs to say them—it was too much. There was nothing he could say that would convince others of his innocence when the ones who confirm such innocence had already spoken against him.