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Across the Dark Water

Page 25

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez


  Just then, Graystone reared and was choked by his rope, his words cut short. Echofrost noticed the large gash in his flank from fighting the soldiers at the farm. “How did they catch you?” Echofrost asked. It was impossible to believe what she was seeing: her winged herd in the hands of giants.

  “That’s how!” neighed Redfire, nodding toward the cages.

  While Echofrost watched, hundreds of winged bats poured out of the cages. They swarmed toward Echofrost and Shysong, splitting off to surround them. But no! They weren’t bats. They were miniature dragons, long and flat like baby alligators. Their red, orange, and yellow scales glinted in the sunlight. Black barbs spiked their tails, and they had needle-sharp teeth, like wolf pups. She and Shysong watched them come, unsure what to do.

  “They breathe fire,” Hazelwind warned.

  “They what?” cried Shysong.

  But soon the mares understood when the tiny colorful dragons opened their mouths and roared streams of blue flames.

  “Go!” Hazelwind brayed.

  Echofrost’s thoughts sped. These were the fire lizards called burners that lived near the volcanoes. The giants must have trained them like they trained the elephants and their saber cats. Had they used the burners to set fire to the hay barn too? she wondered.

  The burners caught up to Echofrost and attacked, shooting flaming tendrils at her and Shysong. There were hundreds of them moving as one creature, like a flock of sparrows. She twisted away when a few of her feathers caught fire. “Blast it!” she cried, flapping hard to extinguish the puff of flame.

  Shysong flew in to help. They kicked at the lizards, knocking some out of the sky. The burners chirped and hissed, and small glittering frills fanned from their necks.

  “They’re like our sky herders in Anok,” Hazelwind neighed, watching the battle from the ground. “They’re trained to push you where they want you to go. They will drive you toward land and then you’ll be caught, but if you just fly away, they won’t know what to do. So go!”

  “But—”

  “You’re no good to us captured.”

  His words stung her heart. “Retreat!” she whinnied to Shysong.

  The two of them turned and sailed away as fast as they could, their burned feathers smoking. And Hazelwind was correct, the burners didn’t follow them. The mares cruised higher and watched from the clouds. The Gorlan horde whistled for their burners and collected the miniature dragons back into their cages. Then they tugged on their captured steeds and resumed their march toward Mount Crim.

  Echofrost’s body trembled, and her thoughts swept across her mind like a wildfire. All the promises she’d made rose up from her gut, mocking her. She’d sworn to rescue Shysong—and she’d done it—but she’d failed miserably at the superior goal: to live free! Now all of Storm Herd was captured, including her brother’s coming foal. “I’ve failed at everything,” she roared into the wind. Then she swore a new oath to Hazelwind, to Dewberry, to all of them. “I’ll save you,” she brayed. “I promise.”

  Whether they heard her or not she didn’t know. They were already out of sight, blocked by the swaying branches of the jungle.

  Echofrost sobbed, her broken promises trailing her like shed feathers.

  Shysong rattled her wings. “Our entire herd is caught! We’ll need an army to free them.”

  Echofrost cleared her mind, trying to think. But then Shysong’s words sunk in. “An army?” Echofrost repeated. “We have one!”

  Shysong gaped at her. “Where?”

  “The Sky Guard! All Kihlari are sacred. The Fifth Clan will rescue Storm Herd once they find out what’s happened.”

  “But how will they find out?” Shysong asked.

  Echofrost glanced back toward the nests. “We’ll show the cubs and then fly them back to the Fifth Clan so they can tell Tuni and the queen.”

  “You mean you want to go back?”

  The wind tossed Echofrost’s mane into her eyes. “Of course not,” she said, her throat tightening. “But there are two of us against how many giants? We can’t help our friends by ourselves.”

  Shysong faltered, dropping altitude.

  Echofrost followed her. “We don’t have time. We have to act. I’m getting Rahkki.” She turned and flew toward the nest.

  “But we can’t control this plan, Echofrost. How can we be sure we’ll all end up free—and not just captured by the Sandwens again?”

  “Control?” Echofrost snorted. “When was the last time we had any? This is our only shot. The alternative is that all of Storm Herd will be lost.”

  Shysong threw her a dark look, and Echofrost felt her ears grow hot. All this was Echofrost’s fault, and that’s why she had to try and fix it. She exhaled, long and slow. “If I return with Rahkki, I’ll belong to him. We’ll be Paired into the Sky Guard. When they free Storm Herd, I’ll be with them.”

  Shysong exploded. “We just escaped that place!”

  “I don’t expect you to join me,” she nickered.

  Shysong tossed her head, simmering. “I’m not staying in the jungle alone.”

  “Then come with me. I’Lenna and Rahkki won’t hurt us. We’ll be safe.”

  “Safe?” Shysong sputtered. She stared at Echofrost. The clouds drifted around them, the land contracted far below their hooves, and the wind jingled the bells in their tails. Feelings shot between them like lightning bolts. Echofrost chewed her lip, afraid that Shysong would abandon her. She wouldn’t blame the mare if she did.

  Finally Shysong uncoiled her tense legs. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

  “You don’t—”

  “No. I want to. You’re right. We can’t save them on our own. We need weapons, armor, and numbers. The Sky Guard can give us that.”

  Echofrost nodded, and the mares soared back to the nest together. The Landwalker cubs were still there, sitting in the base and playing with rocks.

  The mares dived down, and Echofrost’s wings blew back Rahkki’s shaggy hair. He glanced up. “Sula!” His face cracked into a wide smile, and Echofrost felt a small tug at her heart. He trusted her, and she’d left him in a tree so tall that he couldn’t get down. She felt guiltier about this than she liked to admit.

  She and Shysong landed in the nest, and the Landwalker cubs threw their arms around each steed’s neck. Echofrost let Rahkki hug her, realizing she’d scared him half to death, and knowing he didn’t deserve it. Not after he’d tried to save her from the giants, stood up to the queen for her, and saved her from starvation too. “Climb on,” she nickered, kneeling down.

  He didn’t understand the words, but he understood her intent. He climbed onto her back and I’Lenna hopped onto Shysong.

  “Thank you, thank you,” the princess purred to her mare. She kissed the roan’s neck several times, and

  Shysong pranced, looking uncomfortable.

  “Now let’s show them what happened to our friends.” Echofrost and Shysong lifted off, being much more careful this time with their passengers, and they flew toward Mount Crim.

  44

  Sula

  “WHY DO YOU THINK THE BRAYAS CAME BACK?” I’Lenna asked, shocked but thrilled.

  “They felt guilty for ditching us,” Rahkki guessed, raising an eyebrow.

  The princess giggled. “I doubt it. Maybe they like us.”

  “That’s even harder to believe,” Rahkki said, chuckling. Even though he was flying again, high above the jungle, relief coursed through his veins. Sula was protective—she’d tried to defend him from the queen’s soldiers and she’d made sure he was safe from predators by leaving him high in a nest. He felt safer flying on her than he usually felt in the sky, but he still avoided looking down. Beads of cloud moisture had gathered on her

  feathers, making them sparkle, and her salt-white mane flowed against her darker silver coat. Rahkki inhaled to calm his nerves and attempted to guide her toward his home, but Sula, as usual, ignored him. “Where do you think they’re taking us?” he asked I’Lenna.

  S
he swung her heels, a look of pure bliss on her face. “I don’t care.”

  They soared through the clouds, and then suddenly dropped altitude. Sula nickered meaningfully at Rahkki, swiveling her head toward him. He stroked her neck. “What is it, girl?” Sometimes, like right now, Rahkki wished he were a Meld.

  She nickered again, more insistent, and he followed her gaze. Marching across a clearing below them, Rahkki spied hundreds of Gorlanders. They’d lassoed the wild herd and were leading them toward Mount Crim. “I’Lenna! Look down!”

  Pulled from her reverie, she did as he asked. “Bloody rain,” I’Lenna whispered.

  The caravan of Gorlanders and Kihlari slowly vanished into the trees. “This is why the mares came back,” Rahkki said, sitting taller, “to show us that their friends got captured.” His thoughts tumbled. “Sula needs us to help them.”

  I’Lenna narrowed her dark eyes, nodding. “All right. But how?”

  Just then the wild brayas banked hard and glided back toward the Fifth Clan settlement.

  “Correction!” he said. “She wants our clan to help them.”

  “Then we’d better hurry.” I’Lenna, who’d been riding Firo with one hand on the reins and the other twirling a lock of her sun-streaked hair, leaned forward and dug her heels into her pet’s ribs. “Yah, Firo!” The roan mare shot forward.

  Sula surged after her and Rahkki slid toward her tail. He snatched his braya’s mane and yanked himself forward. Then he leaned over her neck, copying I’Lenna. “You were born to fly!” he shouted to her.

  The princess laughed, her voice ringing like the clan’s morning bells. “So were you, Rahkki!”

  The mares had risen and were now flying with the lowest clouds. The mist dampened his hair and it felt good, a refresher from the sun’s burning heat.

  “The Gorlanders must have used their little dragons to drive the herd into a trap. Poor things,” I’Lenna said as they glided closer to home.

  Rahkki rode silently, feeling tired. Sula’s wings

  carved the wind with a grace and power that exceeded Kol’s. If he were to compare them to their ground-dwelling counterparts—Sula was a racehorse and Kol was a plow horse.

  As Rahkki was musing, Sula’s right wing suddenly seized and twisted. “Uh-oh!” he cried. Rahkki was pitched hard when her body rolled onto its side. Her hooves thrashed the sky.

  And then he was weightless.

  Falling.

  “Rahkki!” I’Lenna screamed.

  The boy and the winged mare plummeted toward land. His tunic fluttered around him, his lips and cheeks pulled away from his teeth, and the wind stole his breath. The planet seemed to swell as he raced toward it. If there was a thought in Rahkki’s head, he couldn’t find it.

  Sula threw out her wings with a loud snap against the wind. The cramp passed and with gritted teeth, she pushed into the current and spun herself right side up.

  Rahkki whizzed past her.

  Pointing her head down, she dived after him, flapping to catch up.

  Rahkki grasped at nothing, his arms cartwheeling.

  Sula caught his tunic in her teeth. It ripped off him.

  She let go and it flapped away like a distressed bird. She passed him, dropping in a controlled dive. He spotted her rippling white mane and tried to grab it. Missed.

  She angled her body beneath him and slowed her descent as he reached her. She meant for him to land on her back, so he spread his legs. They collided and he slammed onto her spine, crotch first. White-hot pain shot through him as he grabbed a fistful of her mane. By instinct, he tucked himself up under her wings and lay over her neck, hugging her.

  “Rahkki! Are you all right?” I’Lenna shouted, her voice warbling.

  He nodded once, but couldn’t speak. Waves of pain and nausea washed over him, and all he could think was: Don’t pass out, don’t pass out.

  Echofrost leveled out, her heart pounding, and slowly caught her breath. A moon ago, she’d have let this cub fall to his death—now the sight of him falling had driven her to rescue him. How had that happened? All she’d wanted was to live in peace. Well, she had no time to ponder it.

  With Rahkki secure on her back, Echofrost turned to Shysong. “The kids have seen our captured herd. Now let’s get them home,” she whinnied.

  The mares flew back to the Fifth Clan. As they glided over the Kihlari barn, Echofrost thought about the three hundred ferocious pegasi inside. She’d gone from fearing them to needing them. They were her only hope of saving her friends, and her brother’s foal, from the Gorlan horde.

  Echofrost glanced over her shoulder at Rahkki. The boy was pale and grimacing in pain. He’d struck her back hard, bruising her spine and himself, she imagined. He was clearly not a fighter like Brauk or Tuni, but of all the Landwalkers on this blasted continent, he was the only one she trusted, the only one she liked, and the only one who’d fought to protect her. She could teach him to fly—she’d have to.

  She and Shysong flew over the fortress, and then the village. The clansfolk erupted from their huts, shouting up at them. Echofrost hovered over the arena, but no one was there. She waited. Soon the spectators returned, running to see if the wild mares were returning their princess. The tented folk emerged, their mouths agape, and then the auctioneer, and lastly the Sandwen queens appeared. The Sky Guard army was still saddled and circling over the jungle. They spotted the two mares and darted back, hovering near them.

  Echofrost and Shysong soared toward Lilliam.

  “What sort of stunt is this?” the queen shouted at her daughter.

  Shysong landed, and the princess slid off her back. “I followed them,” I’Lenna explained, nodding toward Echofrost and Rahkki, who were still hovering overhead, “to make sure they came back.”

  The queen crossed her arms, scowling at her daughter’s ruined dress, torn skin, and bleeding mouth.

  “And we bring news, Mother!” I’Lenna added.

  “Not now,” Lilliam snapped. “Take your winged pony back to Fort Prowl and clean yourself up.” The queen’s eyes glittered like ice shards. I’Lenna led Shysong quickly away.

  Echofrost sailed toward the arena and landed gracefully on the sand. Rahkki’s injured body slumped forward and then slid off her back, landing in a crumpled heap at her hooves, unconscious. He had bloodied hands from holding her mane so tight and a bare chest from losing his tunic, and long welts across his bare skin. With his dark lashes shadowing his cheeks, he looked small and young and fragile.

  “He did it,” Mut cried in disbelief. “Rahkki rode that mare to the clouds and back.”

  The spectators and the tented folk cheered.

  “’E slayed three giants once too,” Koko added.

  Mut smacked her arm. “No, he didn’t.”

  “I ain’ lyin’,” she said, and smacked him right back.

  The auctioneer approached Rahkki to help him up, but Echofrost stamped her hoof, threatening him back. She didn’t know this Landwalker and didn’t trust him.

  Then Tuni approached Rahkki, and Echofrost let her. The Headwind fussed over him. “He’s fine,” she said. “He just fainted.”

  “May I pronounce him the winner?” the auctioneer asked the queen.

  Lilliam’s eyes darted toward the spectators—the tented folk, the other contenders, and the visiting queens; they’d all watched Rahkki successfully ride the mare, and they were waiting eagerly for a triumphant pronouncement. Finally the queen offered a stiff nod.

  The auctioneer strode to the center of the arena and raised his hands. Everyone quieted. “We have a new Pair,” he rumbled with a flare of showmanship. “Rahkki Stormrunner of the Fifth Clan, bloodborn son of the Sacred Seven, rode this wild Kihlara mare called Sula to the clouds and back, completing the challenge.”

  Echofrost flicked her ears forward, listening to the

  Landwalkers’ cheering. She peered at Rahkki, wishing he’d wake up so he could tell everyone about her captured friends. The pegasi were sacred and valuable to his
clan; she was counting on them to be outraged.

  The auctioneer continued. “The binding ceremony for new Pairs is tomorrow. Congratulations, Stormrunner.” He spit on his hand and turned to shake Rahkki’s, but the boy was still lying in the sand, out cold.

  Next the man called Uncle leaned against the rail and cleared his throat. Lilliam hissed under her breath.

  “We have a wager to settle,” Darthan said.

  Echofrost watched the queen clutch her belly and pull her flowing silk cape around her shoulders. “Tomorrow,” she said, standing up. “I’m not feeling well, and I have a dragon to feed.” She was so pale now that only her glossed lips held color. Her armed guards followed as she swept out of her tent, climbed onto her stallion, and flew toward the land soldiers who had gathered outside the arena.

  Echofrost stood protectively over Rahkki’s body and closed her mind to thoughts of freedom and escape. I am no longer Echofrost of Storm Herd, she told herself, changing her identity and with it changing the course of her life. I am Sula of the Fifth Clan, Kihlara Flier in the Sky Guard

  army, and Rahkki Stormrunner is my Rider. She repeated this over and over in her mind. She’d need to believe it in order to accept what was coming next: wearing a saddle and armor and a bit, and letting a Landwalker ride on her back. But she would do anything, anything for her herd.

  She glanced toward Mount Crim in the distance, where the Gorlan giants had taken her friends. “Hold on, Hazelwind,” she nickered softly. “I’m coming for you and Storm Herd, and I’m bringing an army. Then we’ll go. And this time I won’t fail. I promise.”

 

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