“Good girl,” Brauk said. He lowered the stick, dropping his guard.
Echofrost pricked her ears, listening closely to his voice, noticing he was pleased with her because she was following him. Echofrost stored that information away too: obedience made Brauk believe he was safe with her.
Echofrost exhaled and regained control of her breathing. She guessed it would be a full cycle of the moon before she could fly again, and it was too risky to escape overland, what with dragons, poisonous ants, panthers, the
Gorlan giants, and who knew what else roaming in the woods. Besides that, horses were faster than pegasi on land, and the Landwalkers had plenty of horses to use to chase her. She was going to be stuck here much longer than she’d anticipated. How would she ever catch up to Hazelwind and Storm Herd?
Brauk led her past Shysong’s stall, and she nickered to her friend. “Did Brauk cut your feathers too?”
“I don’t know who did it,” Shysong answered, sounding dazed. “I must have been sleeping, but yes, someone cut them.”
Her anger swelled, but Echofrost also saw that a poultice had been packed into Shysong’s punctured wing. The Landwalkers were healing her, and that much was good. Before she could say another word to her friend, Brauk pulled hard on her halter and led her out the barn door.
They emerged into blistering heat and painful sunlight. Echofrost balked, squinting. Brauk paused, letting her adjust to the outdoors and the flurry of activity around her. Overhead, Riders flew their Kihlari, playing and training. Nearer to her, foreign pegasi crisscrossed the dirt yard, ridden or led by hand.
Her eyes adjusted and she examined her surroundings. Long, wide steps led upward from the training yard
to the eight-sided fortress at the top of the hill. To the north, she saw the horse pens and beyond that a cluster of several hundred Landwalker dens. The jungle pressed against the settlement, its branches swishing, full of chattering birds and other branch-dwellers. Sea salt spiced the warm winds, a reminder of the Dark Water that lay to the north. Echofrost swiveled her head and spotted the eastern mountain range that the Kihlari called Mount Crim. That’s where the Gorlan giants lived. It was only a day or two away by flight, farther by land. To the left of that were the volcanoes, the dwelling place of the little dragons Kol had called burners.
She startled when a large winged stallion whooshed past her, flapping his wings, bringing her attention back to the yard. Contented nickers and a merry jingling sound filled her ears. Echofrost realized the noise was coming from the pegasi and their Riders—from shiny, round objects tied into their hair and tails that rang as they hurried about. She took a breath, feeling confused. It seemed everyone had somewhere to go, something to do, but she sensed no pressing concerns—no predators on the wind, no shortage of forage or water—so why all the activity?
Brauk, sensing she’d got her bearings, make a clucking noise and tugged on her halter. It was easier to follow him
than fight him, so she followed, threading between the Kihlari steeds. Their Riders talked and laughed, sharing food and playing rough. They had long hair that twisted down their backs, and some had bright pegasus feathers tied to their wrists. Young Landwalkers had short hair, but all had lethal weapons strapped to their waists and backs.
A huge winged stallion trotted past Echofrost ridden by an older female Rider. “Get out of my way, wildling!” the pegasus brayed. He was gray, and his expression was intense as he clumped along, swishing his tail. He bumped her shoulder hard as he passed her.
Echofrost stepped back and accidentally cut off a cantering mare. The red roan pegasus nipped her flank and whinnied. “Watch where you’re walking!”
“You’re popular,” Brauk said, pulling her forward.
Echofrost reared, unwilling to walk farther into the melee, but Brauk lifted his club, and that threat she understood. She dropped to all four hooves and followed as he wove her through the chaos.
The Landwalker warrior named Tuni dived down from the clouds, riding her golden pinto named Rizah. The mare nodded to Echofrost, and her gold-edged pink feathers caused a layer of soil to swirl up from the ground and
into Echofrost’s mouth. She coughed as Rizah and Tuni hovered overhead.
“What is it?” Brauk asked Tuni, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked up at her.
She yelled down to him, her brown eyes glowing. “The Highland horde is moving closer. They’ve set up a camp at the base of Mount Crim.”
“That’s not good.” Brauk gazed east, toward the mountains.
She nodded. “Especially with the Clan Gathering and the Kihlari auction coming up. The other clans will be packed and traveling here by now.”
Echofrost listened to them, wishing she could understand their language. This was one of their strengths—that they could talk to each other—and she stored that information away too.
“Is it just the Highland horde?” Brauk asked.
Tuni’s mount reared when a stallion blasted by her, his Rider hollering to another in the distant sky. “Easy, Rizah,” she said, patting her mare’s neck. Tuni shifted, keeping her balance while answering Brauk. “We only saw the one camp, but since they’ve shared soup with the Fire horde, I’m sure they’re coming down too.” Tuni leaned over Rizah’s shoulder. “Their scouts are throwing
trees at us, Brauk—big trees. They’ve whittled the trunks into sharp points.”
“May the sun fry them,” Brauk said, and he spit on the dirt at his feet.
Tuni spit too. Then she glanced at the fortress on the hill above the training yard. “The queen has called another meeting with her advisers. We’ll know soon what we’re to do.” She glanced at Echofrost with approval. “Your braya looks calm.”
Brauk’s lips curved, showing his blunt white teeth. “A few wallops with this, and now she follows me like a pup.” He lifted his club.
Tuni shook her head. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear about it. Is the blue roan awake?”
“Yep. She’s in the barn.”
Pricking her ears, Echofrost tried hard to decipher their words, but their language sounded like nothing but a long stream of noise punctuated by rises and falls in pitch.
“Good,” said Tuni. “I’ll get to the roan after I finish my runs on Rizah. The auction is in twenty-eight days. We have that long to get them fat, trained, and ready to sell. Did you hear the queen’s proclamation this morning?”
Brauk shook his head.
“She’s allowing the Sky Guard half the earnings from
their sale.” Tuni grinned. “That’s a lot of new weapons, hay, and armor.”
“We caught them, we should get it all,” Brauk said, and then changed the subject. “Have you seen my brother?”
“Rahkki? Yes, I saw him walking to your uncle’s farm with his things.” Tuni drew in her eyebrows. “Didn’t you two say good-bye?”
Brauk’s golden eyes darkened. “Yeah . . . I guess we did.”
“There’s my squad,” said Tuni. “Catch you tonight.” She pulled back on the leathers that were attached to Rizah’s mouth, and the pair shot up toward the clouds. Tuni’s red hair, which was decorated with Rizah’s pretty feathers, whipped against her back, and Rizah’s shining tail fluttered in the wind.
“Come on, girl.” Brauk yanked on Echofrost’s lead rope.
Her mind reeled, succumbing again to panic. No! Echofrost dug her hooves into the packed soil.
Brauk whacked her left shoulder, stinging the muscles there. She glared at him. Cooperate and he won’t hit you. You control this, not him. Just wait. Echofrost dropped her head and limped along behind him, her shoulder stinging where he’d hit her.
Brauk led her into a shallow depression of sand. “Buckets,” he hollered.
Three young Landwalkers emerged from the shadows carrying containers of water. Echofrost spun in a circle. What are those for? Seconds later she knew.
It was time for her bath.
16
Hunger
&nbs
p; FOUR DAYS PASSED AFTER THE HORRIBLE BATH, and Echofrost lay in her stall, taking short, shallow breaths. She was dying, and it was her own fault because she refused to eat the Landwalkers’ food—the Kihlari called it hay—and she’d only allowed herself a few sips of their water when her thirst became unbearable. She’d assumed the Landwalkers would figure out what she needed: a fresh stream and access to grasslands; but no, Brauk kept pitching dry hay at her hooves until her body began to fail her. And now she was in dire trouble.
And worse, she didn’t care. Hazelwind was gone, Storm Herd had left her, she’d made no progress in freeing Shysong, her flight feathers were cut, and she lived in a stall.
She felt hopeless. She missed the wind in her feathers and the clouds below her hooves.
Brauk entered the barn and stood in the aisleway, staring at her and tugging on his long dark hair. He wore it down today and loose, falling below his shoulders, but small sections, he’d braided. Jingling bells, colorful stones, and vibrant feathers were woven throughout the thin plaits—her feathers, and Kol’s too. They fluttered in the breeze from the open doorway where he stood, and she stared at her cut plumage, transfixed.
“You’re gonna die, braya,” Brauk said to her, his voice soft.
Echofrost pricked her ears. Why did he talk to her when he knew she couldn’t understand him? She usually didn’t waste time talking to him, but this time she answered. “Take me outside. I want to feed myself.”
Brauk stared at her, his expression blank. She knew he heard her voice, but to him she probably sounded like a nickering horse. Since he couldn’t understand her, she added, “You look like a big, ugly monkey.”
Still no response from Brauk.
Frustrated, Echofrost turned away. Dying in this stall didn’t feel like giving up, but taking their food, that felt like giving in. Like if she took a bite, she was agreeing
to all this. But you chose to be here, her body screamed. Shut up, her mind shouted back. Echofrost was at war with herself.
She lifted her head and then let it drop back into the straw. This hunger was worse than when she’d flown over the Dark Water. At least on that journey she’d had hope in her heart, fire in her gut, and friends by her side. She wondered where Hazelwind, Graystone, Redfire, Dewberry, and Storm Herd were now. Already at the eastern coast, crossing another ocean, or were they battling spit dragons and Gorlan giants in the jungle?
She stared at the four wooden walls that penned her and then at the wooden ceiling high above that cut off her view of the sky—and she felt numb, like she was buried in ice.
Tuni emerged from the tack room after putting away Rizah’s saddle and bridle.
Brauk called her over. “I can’t get this braya to eat or drink.”
Tuni chuckled. “You met someone more stubborn than yourself?”
Brauk frowned. “If she dies, there go our earnings for the Sky Guard. How’s your roan doing?”
“She tried to hold out too,” said Tuni, glancing toward
Shysong. “But last night she broke and started eating. I think Rahkki was right about these two steeds. The blue roan is pet stock, but the silver mare has warrior blood. Her will is strong, and she’ll make a good Flier, if she doesn’t starve to death first.” Tuni flicked her eyes toward Echofrost.
“Right. Whatever. Maybe I should just put her down and strip off the rest of her feathers. I could make a hundred charms for the auction, sell ’em for forty jints apiece, maybe fifty. The other clans will pay a lot for wildling feathers.”
Tuni shook her head. “At that price you wouldn’t sell half of them, and I think it’s too early to give up on her. Maybe in another day she’ll give in. Has the queen seen how thin she’s gotten?”
“Not yet. Lilliam’s too busy screaming at her council about the giant horde. They broke camp and moved in closer last night. She needs to send us out, and I don’t know what she’s waiting for.”
“The right timing,” said Tuni. “I heard that her Borla had a bad dream, a vision. He said he saw the giant hordes on the move with over a hundred captured Kihlari steeds. That’s almost half our force. So even though Granak ate the sow, the bad dream foretells
defeat. She won’t attack until there’s a better omen.”
“She’s afraid to fail, that’s the real problem.” Brauk kicked the dirt floor. “And I’m running out of time. This braya has to be trained in twenty-four days. How would it look for the Sky Guard of the Fifth Clan to auction off a bony, sour mare who’s barely halter broke?”
Tuni touched his hand. “But she is a Kihlara, a Child of the Wind. She would fetch a decent price if she were a hundred years old and swaybacked.”
Echofrost pricked her ears, catching their excited tones and intense expressions, as if they were arguing. Landwalkers were more like pegasi than she’d ever imagined.
Brauk smiled, but his gold eyes darkened. “I’ll wait one more day. If she’s not eating by tomorrow, I’m going to put her down.”
“Suit yourself.” Tuni strode away from him, her back stiff, and then she said over her shoulder, “I bet Rahkki could fix that braya for you.”
Echofrost grunted as a hunger pain ripped through her belly.
Brauk watched Tuni stalk off, and then he opened Echofrost’s door and shouted at her. “Get up and eat, you stupid horse!”
Echofrost lurched to her hooves and charged him, fueled by rage and pain. She snapped at his leg, but he jumped free of her just in time. Then he grabbed his stick and shoved her into the back of her stall, pinning her with it. “Try that again.” He peered straight into her eyes.
Echofrost flattened her ears but held steady. She knew that Shysong had given in and was eating, and it was driving Echofrost crazy. She had to get the mare out before she became as tame and dependent as the creatures that trotted at the heels of the Landwalkers, the ones they called dogs.
Brauk slammed her stall door shut and then entered Kol’s pen next door. Soon she heard soothing sounds and soft nickering. The powerful stallion adored Brauk; she’d noticed that in the short time she was here. Kol rubbed his head on Brauk’s chest, ate treats from his hands, and knelt to let the man climb onto his back. Kol’s eyes never wavered from Brauk when he was near.
And Brauk, for all his gruffness with her, was kind to Kol. He spoke to him softly and scratched his hide in ways that pleased Kol, and he didn’t yank on Kol’s halter. He demanded nothing of the winged stallion, but Kol did
everything Brauk asked of him.
She watched the Landwalker cuddle his stallion, stroking his muzzle, and then Brauk glanced past her and Kol to the open barn door. Echofrost followed his gaze. It was dusk, the light was quickly dimming, and thousands of insects screeched in the jungle beyond. Brauk paused for a long time, and then he seemed to make a decision. He glanced at Echofrost. “Land to skies, braya, you know I’m sick of your attitude, but my brother—he likes you. Maybe he can help.” Brauk snapped his fingers at Kol, and the stallion knelt. Brauk climbed onto his back and rode the stallion out of the Kihlari den with no saddle and only the halter and lead rope to guide him.
Once outside, Echofrost watched the shiny chestnut stallion gallop across the yard, flapping his wings until his hooves lifted off the ground. Brauk whooped and Kol whinnied, and they soared up into the clouds and flew out of her sight. She craned her neck, hunting for any sign of Hazelwind or Dewberry, Graystone or Redfire in the sky—but she knew they wouldn’t be there.
Then she noticed something interesting. In his haste, Brauk had forgotten to shut the barn door. Echofrost tensed, staring at the easy escape. She glanced up at
the netting over her head. If she could just bite through it! She’d tried that her first few days with no success, but now there was an open door and a crescent moon. The sky would be dark tonight. But where was Shysong? Tuni had taken her out to train her, and they hadn’t yet returned.
Echofrost set to work chewing at her netting. If she got loose, then she could find Shysong in the tra
ining yard or the horse arena with Tuni. They couldn’t fly yet and the jungle was dangerous, but Echofrost no longer thought that waiting for their feathers to grow back was wise. She’d rather face all the dangers of the jungle at once than spend another day with Brauk.
She bit into the fibrous rope and sawed her teeth back and forth.
After several moments soft hoofbeats broke her concentration. She grunted, expecting Kol or Rizah. “What?” she nickered, irritated. She looked up and was face-to-face with Hazelwind.
She gasped.
Behind Hazelwind was Dewberry. Echofrost’s spine tingled. Were they real? Hazelwind stretched his beautiful head toward her. “I’m here,” he whispered.
Several Kihlari heard Hazelwind’s unfamiliar voice, and whinnies of alarm rang through the aisles.
Relief flooded Echofrost’s heart. “I—I thought you left.”
“We did,” Hazelwind admitted. His dark eyes scanned her stall and the thick netting over her head. “But we came back.” He gave her a meaningful look that made her belly flip. “We’ve been watching this den from the heights, but this was our first chance to get inside.” He grimaced, perplexed. “How do I get you out of there?”
“I don’t know.” Echofrost could guess the anguish that his decision to come back had caused him. Hazelwind was duty bound, and she knew that stalling the mission to rescue her and Shysong went against the very nature of his soul, his upbringing.
But he’d done it for her! “Where are the others?” she asked quickly.
“They’re waiting for us in the trees,” Dewberry answered. “The pegasi who were born to Jungle Herd taught us how to build nests. We’re safe from predators up there.”
Across the Dark Water Page 9