Mirage
Page 8
Dantai shook his head and made a sound like a whinny. “I could do it, Father. I’ve been training hard.”
Arasen turned to Aluna. His eyes seemed a little brighter. “Tayan gave her word that you would be at the Thunder Trials. She did that to save you, and I would give my own life rather than see my daughter break her promise.” Out of the corner of her eye, Aluna could see Tayan shifting on her feet. “However,” the khan said slowly, “your lives were not hers to give away.”
Aluna felt a dam break inside her chest; a pressure she didn’t know had built up suddenly released.
Arasen touched two fingers to his heart. “Therefore, I must ask. Will you, Aluna of the Kampii, and you, Calliope of the Aviars, agree to accompany us to the Thunder Trials of your own will? Not only will you preserve my daughter’s honor, but you will also undoubtedly save Shining Moon lives.”
“I came here to stop Scorch, and the best place to do that is at the Thunder Trials,” Aluna said. “I’ll come.”
Calli nodded. “May this mark the beginning of our future alliance.”
Khan Arasen relaxed and leaned back. Aluna glanced at Sokhor and saw a small smile on his face. Was he happy for his herd, or was there something more?
“Excellent,” the khan said. “I will be sure to ask your companion Hoku as well. Now, please excuse me. We must begin our planning for the Trials immediately.”
“I’d like to stay for that,” Aluna said. “I’m a fighter, too. And Hoku and Calli are smart. We want to help Shining Moon win.”
“Ridiculous,” Weaver Sokhor scoffed. “You are not Equians. You are not even of the desert! And you most assuredly are not Shining Moon.”
Tayan stomped a hoof. “But, Father —”
“No,” Arasen said, holding up a hand. “On this, I must agree completely with Weaver Sokhor. It is clear that we must win the Thunder Trials in order to save our people, and so we will . . . as Shining Moon. The purity of our herd is without question, and it is that purity that will bring us victory.”
The khan turned his back on them, his tail flicking so close that Aluna almost sneezed. Clearly the conversation was over. After everything they’d done, after everything they’d agreed to do . . . they still weren’t good enough.
Aluna’s breathing necklace pulsed rapidly at her throat. She needed to get away, far and fast, before she said or did something to ruin what little they’d accomplished today. She threw open the tent flap and stalked out. When Calli tried to join her, she waved the girl back.
She ran west, wishing for the speed and sense of freedom that swimming used to give her. Equians clopped their way through the settlement, either off to start their morning chores or stumbling back to their tents after the evening’s revelry. Aluna stared straight ahead and refused to look at any of them. How far from town would she have to get before she could scream without being heard?
She reached the edge of the settlement and kept going. With each step, she told herself she’d stop soon. Just a little farther. Sand slid into her shoes, but she was used to it now. Eventually her legs slowed to a walk. She forced herself to breathe deep and slow, tried to coax a little calm into her anger-tossed insides.
Hooves clomped through the sand behind her. Aluna sighed and wondered which Equian had been sent to retrieve her. But when she opened her eyes, she saw the horse Tal standing a few meters away, watching.
Aluna smiled. Suddenly the khan and Weaver Sokhor didn’t matter as much. Tal lowered her head and took a few steps closer.
“How come you never leave this place?” Aluna said. “Maybe you could find another herd or join up with a pack of wild horses, if there are any.” She took a few steps closer.
Tal shook her head and stomped her right front hoof in the sand.
“Don’t tell me,” Aluna said, remembering her conversation with Dash the night before. “You’re an Equian — a Shining Moon — and you always will be.”
The horse bobbed her head yes, then reared onto her hind legs and whinnied.
Aluna sighed. “If loyalty were water, this place would be an ocean.”
Tal dropped back to all four feet and trotted over to Aluna, all nervousness seemingly forgotten. Aluna ran her hand down Tal’s sweat-slicked neck and cursed herself for not finding a brush.
But Tal didn’t have grooming in mind. She knelt on one of her forelegs, used the other for balance, and huffed. The same position she’d used to help Aluna up when her legs were failing her.
Aluna’s breath fluttered in her throat. “Do you want me to . . . ? Can I really . . . ? You wouldn’t mind . . . ?”
Tal huffed again, then reached over and gently tugged on Aluna’s tunic with her huge teeth.
“Ride,” Aluna breathed. “You want me to ride.”
She dragged her hand along Tal’s coat, to the lump where her neck met her back. Withers, Dash had called it.
“I’m going to jump,” she said. “It’s not going to be pretty.”
Tal let go of her tunic and snickered.
“Oh, you’re laughing now. Wait until I’ve broken my neck.”
She put both her hands on Tal’s back and leaped. She’d intended to swing one leg over so that she straddled Tal’s back and could sit upright. Instead, she ended up landing on her stomach, bent over the horse’s back like a sack of sand.
“Not what I wanted,” Aluna muttered. Then again, when her legs were fused together into a tail, maybe this was how she’d have to do it. Find some way to ride with both her legs off to the side. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Today she had simpler goals. She struggled for a better grip so she could shift her leg into position. Tal chose that moment to stand up.
A second later, Aluna thudded to the ground. Miraculously she managed to land on her side instead of on her head. She spat sand out of her mouth and stared up at the horse.
“You’re not making this easy,” she said.
Tal reached down and tugged at her tunic again.
“Yeah, yeah,” She hopped to her feet and shook the sand from her hair. “Remember, this is a lot easier for you than it is for me.”
Three falls later, Tal managed to stay still long enough for Aluna to swing her legs into position. Tal’s bony back dug into her thighs, but she let out a whoop all the same.
“Tides’ teeth, it’s a whole new world up here!”
Tal took a step forward, and Aluna bobbed backward.
“Guess I’d better hold on.” She grabbed Tal’s mane just in time. The horse bolted into a canter. Aluna felt like she was floating on top of the waves, only with more fear of falling and a lot more pain on her backside. She clutched Tal’s sides with her legs.
Tal cantered in slow circles as Aluna adjusted her grip. Her body was already sore from bouncing against Tal’s back. She could feel the bruises forming through her light tunic and pants. But no amount of pain was going to stop her. Not today.
“Faster,” Aluna said. “As fast as you can go.”
One of Tal’s ears swiveled back to listen, and she nodded. Aluna could feel the muscles in the horse’s body bunching and extending. So much power! Tal gathered herself up and launched into a gallop.
Aluna tried to keep her grip, but was face-first in the sand within seconds. At least she’d managed to avoid the prickly cactus, which seemed to be watching with amusement half a meter away. She wiped the sand out of her mouth, shook the surprise from her head, and waited for Tal to circle back.
The next time she fell, she got sand up her nose. Ocean sand ended up everywhere, so she was used to the discomfort, but desert sand burned and stuck to anything wet. And since Aluna had been sweating all day, her face, hands, and neck were covered in the gritty yellow nuisance.
But Tal proved just as stubborn as Aluna and kept coming back for her after she fell. The horse didn’t even need to kneel after a while — Aluna managed to vault onto her back and scramble into place without help. Two more falls and Aluna managed to keep her seat when Tal broke into her gallop.
“We can go anywhere,” Aluna said. “We can do anything!”
Tal whinnied and ran faster. Aluna laughed and tightened her grip. She loved the way the horse’s hooves thundered against the sand in perfect rhythm. Her chest felt light. Her heart sang. She wanted the feeling to last forever.
BY THE TIME Aluna returned to the settlement, the Equian word-weavers were already at their fires, telling stories to the sunken sun. Aluna limped slowly, each step causing an explosion of pain through her thighs, backside, and ribs. Tal had simply trotted off toward the food troughs when they were done, no worse for their day of exercise. Aluna felt mushy and weak, like a lobster without its shell.
She lifted the tent flap with a groan. Somehow she’d managed to bruise her arms today, too. Not since the day High Senator Electra had taught her the basics of the Aviar spear had she so wished for a bottle of stinging jellyfish goo to ease the pain in her muscles.
“Aluna! Where have you been?” Calli said. “You look terrible. Is that cactus in your hair?”
“Food,” Aluna said, stumbling inside. “Wash.”
“I’d suggest grabbing some food first,” said Calli. “Hoku’s been taking all the best morsels for his teacher.”
“Food,” Aluna agreed.
“Have you met Rollin yet?” Calli asked. “I was nervous at first. I’ve never met a nice Upgrader. Er . . . and maybe I still haven’t. But Hoku likes her.”
Rollin. Aluna wasn’t ready to trust any Human willing to disfigure herself with tech, but she trusted Hoku. That was enough.
Aluna devoured two chunks of smoky meat, then stumbled to the washbasin and stared mournfully at the water. The idea of pulling off her clothes sounded excruciating. After a moment’s indecision, she picked up the cloth, wetted it, and covered her face with its cool bliss. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to dump the whole thing over her head, let the water race down her face in rivulets, trip over her lips, soak into her shirt.
But she couldn’t. Not here. Shining Moon had given them a whole basin of water, more than most Equians would see in a month. It was one of the greatest gifts they could bestow. If she wasted it, the Equians would think she was just another rude, ignorant wetlander.
As she did her best to wipe the grime from her face and hands, her thoughts began to clear. “What did you do today?” she asked Calli.
Calli appeared next to her as if she’d been waiting for a chance to spring. “I learned about the Thunder Trials. I have so much to tell you and Hoku.”
“No fair starting without me,” came Hoku’s voice from the front of the tent. “Well, at least you left me some food. I’m starving.”
“Save some for Aluna,” Calli yelled back, and scurried off to greet him.
Aluna smiled. Calli wasn’t the best warrior, but more and more, Aluna was grateful for her friendship.
“Is there a single centimeter of you that’s not dirty?” Calli asked.
“I think the inside of my elbow is okay,” Hoku replied. “Nope. Guess that’s pretty gross, too.”
“The Thunder Trials,” Aluna said loudly. “You were going to tell us about the Thunder Trials?” She joined the others in the main room and sat carefully, arranging the pillows and trying several positions until she found one that didn’t make her squeal from the pain. If she could sleep at all tonight, it would be on her stomach.
Then again, this was good pain. The kind she understood. The kind she had earned. Her brother Anadar used to say, “Pain scares your weakness away.” She’d pushed her body hard and would be stronger for it tomorrow. This feeling was nothing like what she felt from her growing tail. That pain came out of nowhere, confused her, left her feeling fragile instead of fierce. It didn’t scare the weakness away; it scared her.
Hoku, his sunburned face covered in dark smears, grinned and handed her a hunk of rabbit. “You’re moving a little slow tonight,” he said.
She glared at him halfheartedly and took the food. “Funny comment coming from a walking oil slick.”
He opened his mouth to reply, then filled it with rabbit instead.
Calli picked up a piece of fruit but didn’t eat it. “Well, you already know that the Thunder Trials are contests, and that the winners earn more birthing rights for their herds.”
Aluna nodded. “The faster, tougher herds grow larger, and the weaker herds die off. They’re just accelerating what happens in nature anyway.”
“Spoken like one of the faster, tougher people,” Hoku grumbled.
“Except the Thunder Trials aren’t only for warriors,” Calli said, popping the fruit into her mouth. It bulged in her cheek. “They’ve got competitions for tech, too! And for working with animals, cooking, and even word-weaving. There are three paths — Sun, Moon, and Sand. Sun is for one-on-one fighting, Moon is for artisan skills, and Sand is for other skills, like shooting and falconry.”
“Fiddling with tech makes me an artisan?” Hoku asked.
Aluna snorted. She grabbed a small bundle of cactus flowers from the food tray and bit off a petal.
“Shining Moon has traditionally done well at the Trials,” Calli continued. “Khan Arasen himself won the coveted Sun Disc in his youth, the one for fighting. He was High Khan for three years. But Onggur and the Red Sky always win that now. Shining Moon is known for their falcons and horses. They’ve won every year for decades, only . . .”
Calli scrunched up her face, gnawed on her lip, then started again. “Only their best falconers are gone. Erke and Gan. Two of Dash’s parents. Dantai didn’t want to say more, but I convinced him to tell me everything. He said that after Erke and Gan, Dash was the best falconer in the herd. Dantai isn’t sure they can win this year, not when they’re missing all three of them.”
“But why wouldn’t they have Dash?” Hoku said. “He’s right . . . Oh.”
Blood pounded in Aluna’s ears. Dantai wasn’t counting on Dash because he expected Dash to be dead. They all expected Dash to be dead.
“Maybe prisoners aren’t allowed to compete,” Hoku said.
Calli shook her head. “They’re going to judge him soon. As soon as everyone recovers from the celebration,” she said. “But the situation is more complicated that we thought. Not all the Equians here are happy that Arasen wants to defy the High Khan. Weaver Sokhor seems to have a lot of power, and . . . he hates Dash. I don’t know why, but he does. I don’t know what the khan will do, but I heard Tayan arguing with him.”
“I bet she wants Dash dead,” Aluna said. “Why else would she have brought him back here?”
“No, it’s not like that,” Calli said. “Tayan believes in herd law, maybe too much, but I don’t think she wants Dash to be hurt. She asked the khan to be lenient, to ignore Sokhor’s demand for his life. She didn’t want me to overhear, so I kept walking. But I heard enough.”
Aluna stared down at the green plant in her hands, her appetite suddenly gone. “She doesn’t want him to die, but she won’t go against her father.”
“No, I don’t think she will,” Calli said. “Honor and tradition are powerful here.”
“Not everyone is as strong as you, Aluna,” Hoku said softly.
She didn’t feel strong right now. Not even a little. Riding all day had fed her spirit but destroyed her body. All she wanted to do was swim into her sticky bed back in her nest in the City of Shifting Tides. She wanted to forget she’d ever heard of Karl Strand or Scorch. She almost wanted to forget Dash.
No. She didn’t mean that.
Later that night, when Hoku’s snores drifted over from the other side of the tent and echoed in Aluna’s ears, Calli’s voice emerged from the darkness.
“We’ll save him, you know,” she whispered. “After everything we’ve been through, I feel like you and Hoku and
Dash are the only people in the whole world I can really count on. I can count on my mom, too, and Electra . . . but they’re so far away. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever see them again, you know? I miss the sky. Not the desert sky, all full of grit all the time, but the clear sharpness of the mountain air. The blueness. The white clouds. I feel like I came all this distance but part of me stayed behind. Is still back there soaring.”
Aluna stayed perfectly still. She barely breathed. She didn’t want to hear Calli’s confessions. They scared her. The darkness was a shield, a protective bubble. It made you feel safe to say things you’d never say in the bright of the sun. If she and Calli started talking, Aluna couldn’t trust herself to keep the secret about her growing tail. Telling someone — telling Calli — would make everything harder. Even so, she wanted to do it. She wanted someone to have her back, to cover for her, to understand.
No, the darkness was too dangerous.
“I guess you’re asleep,” Calli said with a sigh. “Good night, then. Sleep well. We’ll figure out how to save Dash. I promise.”
After Calli’s breathing had slowed, Aluna sat up and began inspecting her legs. She found two more patches of thick skin and a strange softness by her ankle. She wrapped her feet in bandages made from her old tunic and hid them under pillows.
A FEW DAYS LATER, Tayan burst into their tent just as Hoku was heading to Rollin’s for a day of lessons, arguments, and unexpected injuries. Aluna and Calli were on their feet in a flash.
“The trial is today,” Tayan said, her voice tight. “Dash has been taken to the khan. I am about to join them.”
“Tides’ teeth,” Hoku said. “So soon?”
“We’re coming with you,” Aluna said. Hoku could see waves crashing behind her eyes. “Dash asked me not to involve his family, but he didn’t make me promise not to go myself.”
Thankfully Tayan merely nodded.
“Wait. We need a plan,” Hoku said. “Some way to get through to Khan Arasen and Weaver Sokhor.” He hadn’t shown the story-song he’d been writing about Dash to the others yet. It wasn’t done, and it wasn’t very good. He’d thought he’d have more time.