Still with her hands shielding her face, Shalla was sobbing.
Tamra slid off the back of the silver jaguar. She walked forward, trying to feel nothing but feeling everything. She smelled the bitter tang of blood in the air and walked into the chamber. Between Tamra and Shalla were the bodies of the high augurs. Or what remained of them.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Tamra told Shalla.
Crossing to her, Tamra wrapped her arm around her. She led her out of the chamber, and Tamra instructed a few kehoks to collapse its walls. While Shalla clung to her, Tamra picked her way across the rubble of the temple, back to where her army of kehoks surrounded the augurs.
All several hundred kehoks turned to look at her with their beautiful golden eyes, awaiting her next command. And she didn’t know who was the monster anymore—them or her.
Chapter 34
Raia, with Dar, rode on the black lion across the sands. It was nearing sunset on what felt like the longest day of her life. The whole desert glowed amber, and the wind tasted sun-warmed. She knew they couldn’t run forever, but for now, it felt right.
“What’s that?” Dar called in her ear.
“Where?”
“On the horizon!” He pointed past her toward a darkened cloud.
“Desert wraiths?” she guessed. She’d never seen any up close but they were known for lurking around the edges of sandstorms. Wisps of souls, like the messenger wights, who never found their way to their new vessel. Parents used to scare their kids by saying if they didn’t stick close to home, they’d be lost and become a desert wraith. My mother once said she hoped I’d become a wraith, Raia thought.
But that time was long behind her. She’d rescued a prince, who was a kind man who missed his brother. She’d never imagined doing anything like this.
“I don’t think it’s wraiths,” Dar said in her ear.
“Sandstorm?” It didn’t look like a sandstorm, at least not exactly. A gray billowing cloud of sand, it seemed to have shapes inside.
They ran toward it, the black lion carrying them without any instruction from her, as if it were something he wanted to see as well. She wasn’t certain this was wise. Shouldn’t they run away from a sandstorm, not toward it?
The shadows within the cloud of sand began to take shape: figures. People. Soldiers, she thought. Rows and rows of soldiers. The lion slowed. “It’s an army,” Dar said. “From Ranir. And no emperor sits on the Becaran throne.”
“I saw Becaran soldiers in the city, subduing the riots,” Raia said.
He nodded grimly. “One battalion, scattered and distracted. No one is guarding the city borders while the center is imploding.”
Everything we’ve done, and we could still lose it all, Raia thought. Staring at the coming army, she felt as if she’d merely delayed her fate. Maybe I was always destined to fail. Maybe my parents were right . . .
“Without an army at the ready, the Heart of Becar will fall,” Dar said flatly.
He had to be seeing his dreams dissolve in front of them too. And they were so close to having everything! Raia ached for him, as well as herself.
The lion made a huffing noise and pawed the ground.
Dar let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Zarin, I know you have teeth and claws now, but you can’t take on an army by yourself. You’re only one.”
Raia had an idea. Another terrible, wonderful idea. She didn’t know if it would work. She didn’t know what was happening back at the temple—the guards could have rallied to fight the kehoks, the high augurs could have captured Trainer Verlas, and she could have been outmaneuvered. It was also possible that Trainer Verlas had already lost control of the kehoks. But Raia didn’t believe any of that was true. “I know where there is an army.”
Dar went still, and she knew he’d guessed what she meant. “No. That’s impossible. Kehoks are never used for war. They’re too unpredictable. Too hard to control for an extended amount of time.”
“We don’t need them for an extended time,” Raia pointed out. “Only long enough to convince the Ranirans to turn around.”
Dar was silent for a long moment. “I think I love you.”
Raia smiled, and they turned and ran back toward the temple. Behind them, the enemy army advanced on the Heart of Becar—far more slowly than the Grand Champion of the Becaran Races could run.
Tamra rode the silver jaguar to the top of a fallen pillar and shouted to the augurs, “Prince Dar did not kill his brother! He is innocent!”
The augurs began to yell back at her and at one another.
In her mind, she called to the kehoks to scream—they cried out as one, silencing the augurs. She shouted, “Emperor Zarin was murdered by the high augurs and forced to be reborn as a kehok!”
More muttering from the augurs that grew again into shouting. “Proof!” someone yelled. “Show us proof of their corruption!”
Tamra didn’t know how to do that. The kehoks sensed her agitation and began to strain to escape her hold. With Shalla safe, it was becoming more difficult to focus on them.
If I lose control of them, in the Heart of Becar . . .
She refused to let herself finish that thought. She couldn’t lose control. There were hundreds of thousands of innocents in the capital city.
Shalla squeezed her hand. “Mama! It’s Raia!”
The black lion was riding toward them, with Raia and Prince Dar on his back. All the augurs’ attention shifted to them. The kehoks around Tamra strained against her. It was getting harder and harder to hold them.
“Read their auras!” Shalla shouted. “You’ll see your proof!”
Yes! Tamra thought. That’s my smart girl! These augurs could all read the black lion and see the truth—that the kehok was once Emperor Zarin—and read Prince Dar and see that he was not a murderer. His soul was unstained by his brother’s murder. They’d see the high augurs had lied to them. They’d know the truth.
The gasps from the augurs told Tamra that those who could were doing exactly that, as the black lion galloped toward them with its riders.
We can win this, Tamra thought, feeling dizzy at the thought. Prince Dar could become emperor, and Raia and Shalla could be kept safe. . . .
Beside Tamra, one of the kehoks screamed and burst forward. “Stop!” Tamra ordered. She had to get them back to the stables and shackled. She could leave the political mess to the augurs to sort out. Now that they knew the truth, now that the late emperor’s vessel had been found and identified, Prince Dar would once again be the emperor-to-be and be crowned as emperor.
We did it, Tamra thought. It’s over. Isn’t it?
Prince Dar reached them. “The Raniran army approaches.”
One of the augurs stepped forward and bowed to him. “My emperor-to-be. We have read you and will attest that you have found your late brother’s vessel and that you are innocent of all accused crimes. You can be immediately coronated. Once the ceremony is complete, you can summon our army and send them out onto the sands.”
“Even immediately isn’t fast enough,” Dar said. “Our army is stationed across Becar, and the one battalion positioned here is scattered through the city. It will take time we do not have to gather them and reposition them, and more time to call for reinforcements from elsewhere in the empire. Our soldiers can only travel as fast as humans.” He met Tamra’s eyes. “But your army can travel faster.”
“I . . .” Tamra couldn’t find the words.
“Becar will fall,” Dar said, “if you do not.”
She looked at Shalla. She’d done this only for her daughter, and now her daughter was safe. Both daughters, Shalla and Raia. She hadn’t meant to raise an army, and she didn’t know how much longer she could control them. Already she could feel her focus fraying.
But the threat isn’t over just because the high augurs are gone, Tamra realized.
“You can do it, Mama,” Shalla said.
Tamra looked at her daughter. Her eyes were full of trust. If she didn’t stop th
is invasion, her daughter would be in danger again. She couldn’t allow an enemy army anywhere near her. She’d just saved Shalla! She would not allow her to be in danger again! “I’m not leaving you again.”
“Then take me with you.”
“But—”
“I’ll be brave,” Shalla promised. “And I’ll do everything you tell me to.”
She didn’t see that she had any other choice. She wasn’t going to leave Shalla with the augurs, even if the worst of them were gone. “Hold on tight.”
Do you want to run? Tamra asked her kehok army silently.
In answer, they broke from the augurs and began to stream away from the temple, running at full speed.
Lady with the Sword, keep us all safe, Tamra prayed.
Wrapping one arm around her daughter’s waist and holding on to the kehok’s fur with her other hand, Tamra urged the silver jaguar forward, and ran with her army toward the desert, Raia with Prince Dar beside them on the black lion.
Dar had never felt like an emperor before, but as he waited with their army of kehoks for the Ranirans several miles outside of the Heart of Becar, he thought for the first time, I can do this.
Seeing them, the army slowed, and a man on a horse walked forward. The horse’s flanks were coated in sweat so thick that it looked as if he was shimmering. The man looked like the perfect soldier: arm muscles as thick as Dar’s thighs, armor that had seen plenty of battles, a scar above his right eye. A general, judging from the colors on his helmet. He halted several yards from Dar.
“This is new,” the general said. “Also, foolish.”
“Becar is not for the taking,” Dar said.
The general flashed what was most likely intended as a charming smile. “We aren’t here to take. We’re here to help! I was under the impression that you needed assistance with civilian unrest. Our information said the empire was faltering due to the lack of an emperor.” He sounded urbane, as if they were meeting for tea in a garden, not under the hot sun with armies at their backs.
“Your information is out-of-date,” Dar said. “Take your army and go home.”
“You realize that it’s not possible to hold this many kehoks for an extended battle,” the man said, as if he were scolding them. “History is rife with such failures.”
As if on cue, all the kehoks screamed simultaneously. Dar saw the enemy army shuffle nervously. The front lines inched backward, and the soldiers whispered to one another.
Softly, Raia whispered, “Trainer Verlas, can you control them?”
“Mama can do it,” Shalla said.
Tamra shuddered, sweat glistening on her skin. Dar wondered briefly what it was doing to her, controlling so many kehoks at once. History might be full of failures, but it said little about successes. He knew of no one who had led this many kehoks for this length of time. This has to end now, he thought. He glanced at Tamra and her daughter. The young girl’s eyes were wide, terrified, but she hadn’t let a hint of fear color her voice. Brave child, he thought. He needed to be brave now too.
He had to end this, for all the children of Becar.
“I am Prince Dar, soon to be emperor of Becar, and I tell you we are not in need of your ‘assistance.’ Again, take your army and leave. You are not welcome here.”
“I am General Sambian of the Raniran Empire, and I say whether I am welcome, boy-king. You do not yet wear a crown, and you wield an army you cannot hope to control.”
Through gritted teeth, Tamra said, “I. Can’t. Hold. Them. All.”
Raia grabbed her hand and said, “Let me help.”
Dar looked at the stretch of soldiers in front of him, and then down the line at the kehoks. There was one simple fact that the general had overlooked. This wasn’t a battle of two human armies; there was only one army here. “We do not need to control our army. All we need to do is set them free. We have no one here to lose. You do.”
The general paled.
“I can’t . . .” Tamra whispered. “The deaths on my soul . . . Already so many . . .”
“These will be on mine,” Dar said firmly. “As emperor-to-be, I take responsibility for protecting my people, in any way that I can.” This was the best he could hope for: to release the monsters out here, in the desert, where they’d harm only their enemy. His people would be safe within their city. Raising his voice so the general could hear, he said, “We ride the fastest racer in the empire. The kehoks will not catch us if we run. Can you say the same?”
The soldiers began to mutter to one another.
“Surrender, General Sambian,” Dar said calmly.
“Our orders are to take Becar, and a pack of mongrels will not prevent the great kingdom of Ranir from claiming the weak and corrupt empire of Becar, as is our destiny,” the general said. “We will not surrender to a boy who will never be crowned.”
The kehoks howled, pawing at the sand.
“So be it,” Dar said.
Tamra couldn’t keep hold of the rage and fear that had fueled her through the attack on the temple. Her mind was beginning to fray—thinking about the high augur’s deaths, about Shalla, about the future, about what would happen to all of them now.
A few kehoks burst free of her control and loped toward the army.
“No!” Tamra cried. She tried to focus harder, feeling sweat bead on her forehead. She breathed in the heat of the desert, tasting it in the back of her throat. The sun made the air over the sand shimmer, making the army waver as if it were a mirage.
“Dar . . .” Raia said, as more kehoks overrode Tamra’s and Raia’s control and began tearing into one another. As the first kehoks to break free reached the enemy army, the soldiers tried to defend themselves. Shalla whimpered and clung tighter to her mother.
“Let them go,” Prince Dar said calmly. “All of them.”
“But . . .” Tamra began. She couldn’t complete the sentence. It took too much to focus on the kehoks. They wanted so badly to be free, to run, to destroy, to kill. She felt as if their rage was stuffed down her throat. It was hard to breathe.
“You can’t hold them forever,” Prince Dar said. “Release them here, far from the city. Our people will be safe.”
“But the Ranirans . . .” She didn’t know them. She couldn’t hold them in her heart to steady her, the way she could with Shalla. Especially since they had come to attack her home and seize it for themselves.
“The Ranirans came to conquer us,” Prince Dar said. “Their orders were to kill and enslave. They would have destroyed our cities and our way of life. If they hadn’t made the choice to do this, they would not face the consequences now.”
More monsters broke free. Stop! Do not kill!
His voice was gentle, even kind. “You’ve saved us. You can let go now. Be free.”
Prince Dar was right—she couldn’t maintain her focus forever. Already, she felt as if the world was tipping, tilting, spinning. She hoped that the Raniran army had retreated far enough fast enough. She hoped no one innocent was hurt. She hoped . . .
“Close your eyes,” she whispered to Shalla.
She lost consciousness. Blackness swallowed her vision, and the last thing she heard was the joyous, wild screams of the kehoks as they plunged across the sand.
When Tamra woke, she was leaning against the metal mane of the lion. Raia and Prince Dar were behind her, and they were running smoothly across the sand toward the Heart of Becar. She didn’t hear or see any other kehoks around them.
“The kehoks?” she asked.
“Gone,” Raia said.
“You did it, Mama! You scared the bad people away.”
“The kehoks will hunt our people, once they’ve finished chasing the army across the desert,” Tamra worried. “Travelers . . . People in small villages . . . Our people won’t be safe from them, even if they stop the army . . .” Her mind shied away from thinking about what had happened to the soldiers in the Raniran army. It was possible they’d fled fast enough. She didn’t think that was likely.
>
“That’s not a problem for today,” Prince Dar said firmly. “Today you saved Becar, twice over. Today you are a hero.”
How nice, Tamra thought. It was difficult to pull her thoughts together. She felt as if her mind had been shredded. “Don’t want to be a hero. Just want . . . to save my daughters.”
Someone spoke—she didn’t know who; the voice was deep and gravelly in her mind. She thought, oddly, impossibly, that it was the lion.
You saved us all, he said.
Chapter 35
Everyone in the palace, the fallen temple, and the city scrambled to organize the coronation of Prince Dar as quickly as possible. By the very next day, all was ready, or ready enough. Raia had never seen a coronation—she was stunned at how quickly the decorations were unfurled. Flowers everywhere. Ribbons and banners strewn across every pillar, building, and bridge. Musicians were playing on every street. Dancers and acrobats performed in every open square, in the shadows of broken statues and damaged structures. It all felt forced and frantic, but no one said so. Everyone just smiled harder, determined to make this joyous even if it killed them. Per Dar’s instructions, Raia watched from the steps of the palace, beside her black lion.
Her role in the coronation was simple: stay with the kehok-emperor.
She was to keep anyone from harming him and keep him from harming anyone. Prince Dar had asked her to remain visible, so that anyone who wanted to confirm the legitimacy of his claims, that the kehok had once been Zarin, could do so. It had already been sworn to by the augurs of the fallen temple, but other augurs were pouring in from other cities and they too wished to see with their own eyes. Thanks to Lady Evara, even those without the training to see auras were adding credence to the claim that this kehok was the late Emperor Zarin, falsely reborn as a monster. She had, apparently, been busy spreading the truth among the powerful men and women in the palace, and now everyone was curious to see this wonder.
And the woman who had tamed him.
Raia had been draped in silks and jewels, and she felt like an ornament standing next to the gleaming black metal lion. Over the last several hours, she thought she’d been stared at by every single person in Becar. She tried to remember not to fidget or scratch her nose or look as uncomfortable as she felt.
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