by Alisha Basso
She hadn’t had to assail the Bitter Reaches by herself after all. She had had Pindar’s steady presence with her all along. Without him, she might not have succeeded. But she had called the horses, and they had heard. If Leinos had been there, things would have gone differently. She would be riding Pindar instead of wondering where he was and if he was okay.
She didn’t like having the herd strung out over such distance. For all she knew, half the horses might not have crossed the river yet, and she worried that’s where the yekerk had gone. They approached an oblique bend before the lake. She stopped the mare with a thought, but the momentum of those behind forced them past the turn and into the open.
The taste of burning rubber invaded her throat. Ahead, the ugly birds waited, and a line of men pointed crossbows at her and the horses. Cadell stood on a house-sized boulder along the dead lake’s shore, his hair matted with dried blood, his face dark as a thundercloud.
Chapter 33
LAUREN concentrated with all her will to make the horses stop and turn around. Her command whispered through the herd, but they couldn’t reverse in the skintight pass. If she were riding an out-of-control sled, skidding pell-mell down an icy hill, she couldn’t feel more out of control.
Cadell had picked a perfect spot to ambush. But his eyes widened as the horses did the last thing expected—kept coming. When she saw the fear in his eyes, she pressed forward, and the herd bore down on the men. They scrambled up to rocks to escape. Bird-men flitted into the air, surprisingly graceful for all their awfulness.
“Stop, or I will order them to shoot you,” Cadell shouted.
Lauren didn’t know what to do. Before she could respond, a limp yekerk fell from the sky, an arrow protruding from under its wing.
Rast’s men scattered. More arrows found targets. Another yekerk screamed and thudded to the ground nearby. She recognized the blue fletching of Cirq and craned her neck to see where it came from. The Horseguard—here?
Riding in the lead and without any weapons, she could do no more than keep the horses from being caught in crossfire. She slipped from the mare to shoo them back, but found herself stuck, fingers knotted in the long mane.
From behind, a powerful pair of arms encircled her and cut her free. For a moment, she thought Captain Geed had found her. His grip tightened round her neck, and one callused hand crushed her mouth.
“This is not over, Horsecaller,” Cadell rasped in her ear. He dragged her into the herd. “Rast will have these horses, yet.”
She bit his hand, thrashed and kicked. He swore, but didn’t release her.
“Your men are dead, or will be,” she said. “My Horseguard will kill you, too.”
“Not as long as I have you.”
He shuffled past the horses, but she wouldn’t make it easy. She hammered his shins with her bare heels and was about to scream when he clamped his hand over her mouth again. The horses closed around them. For the second time that day, and perhaps only the third time in her life, she cried out for assistance.
Help me.
Horses bumped against them. The bay mare’s teeth swept by Lauren’s ear and found purchase in the meat of Cadell’s arm. He ducked and grunted. A flash and a spurt of red.
Blood ran down the mare’s neck.
“No!”
The blade pricked Lauren’s throat. “You dropped this in the canyon, Horsecaller. Stop and be quiet, or I will use it. On you or on them makes no difference.”
She tried to breathe deeply, to calm herself and the horses.
From behind them, a voice, menacing, beloved. “Release her,” Leinos said.
Lauren froze. Her captor froze. Cadell slowly pivoted, holding her as his shield, and faced a large and grim-looking man. The battle spark in his eyes was not the same one she had seen when the yekerk attacked them on the Resting Plains. Instead, his eyes gleamed with the reckless flash of a man prepared to die defending what was his. The sight constricted her already clenched heart.
The horses parted, and Geed and others ran up, bloodied staves at the ready. Several Horseguard crossbows pointed directly at Cadell’s head.
He nicked her skin with Jana’s blade. “You can kill me, but Cirq still will not have her horses,” he said.
She could feel the thump of his heart against her back. He didn’t want to kill her, or die, or fail, but his options were quickly narrowing. A tangled jumble of emotions seeped through, and she hadn’t the strength to filter them. Beneath the chilly determination she had seen in his eyes languished other, more familiar feelings.
After a long pause, she said to Leinos, “Let him go.”
Both men spoke at once. “What?”
“If he will let me go—he saved my life.”
Leinos’s disbelieving eyes flicked between her and Cadell. “True?”
Silence descended along with swift darkness as the sun dropped below the mountain’s peaks. Enaid and others lit torches. Lauren kept her chin high and her gaze on Leinos. He looked awful—thin and dirty—and beyond wonderful, but furious, too. Whether with her or Cadell or both, she wasn’t sure and didn’t care.
He stared back for a long time, with that narrow-eyed look she’d come to love, his brow deeply furrowed, jaw clenched, then finally said, “As the Horsecaller orders. Drop your weapon, and let her go.”
For a moment, Cadell didn’t move, and she thought he would do something foolish. Then, the knife fell to the ground at her feet. He released her and stepped away. The Horseguard rushed forward. Leinos stayed them, his fists clenched at his sides as if making a monumental effort to contain himself. His face was too calm for her liking, then his nostrils flared, and he lost the battle. He stalked to Cadell and swung a lethal punch at his face. Cadell hit the ground with a thud.
Leinos hovered over him, murder lingering in his eyes. She watched, frozen, fearing he would beat the man to death, but he mastered himself and moved back.
Cadell got to hands and knees, shaking his head, then slowly stood. Blood streamed from his broken nose.
“Go. Now.” Leinos pointed north. “Before she changes her mind. And thank your gods I am inclined to defer to the Horsecaller in this.”
Cadell edged toward the deep pine woods.
“Not that way,” Lauren said. “Through the horses. If they suffer you to pass, I will know I have judged right.”
Even in the wavering torchlight, she saw his face pale, but he waded into the herd. The eyes of a large black and smaller chestnut horse gleamed with distrust as Cadell slid between them. They barely made room but didn’t otherwise hinder his progress. On wobbly legs, Lauren went to the dark bay mare, feeling along her neck in the dark. Her fingers found sticky blood. The wound wasn’t serious. Now, they would find Pindar.
She tried to grab the mare’s mane, to pull herself up, but couldn’t. Her legs gave out and she collapsed.
Leinos caught her and pulled her against him as if he might draw her within his own body. She melted against him, wishing with every fiber of her being she could recede into his warmth and strength. With one hand behind her head and one wrapped tightly around her waist, he murmured into her hair.
“K’varo risa. Thank the goddess and all that is holy.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.
Tears clogged her throat—relief, exultation, worry. Horses shuffled closer, surrounding them, wuffling softly, nosing her head and shoulders, offering comfort. Leinos made to push them away.
“No,” she croaked. “It’s all right. I’m all right.”
“Water,” he ordered over his shoulder. Then, “Captain Geed, report.”
“Minor injuries. One captive—”
Malek crawled beneath the nearest horse’s belly and flung his arms around Lauren’s neck. “Horsecaller,” he cried.
The lump in her throat grew larger. She drew him into their embrace. They had the horses and now she had Leinos and Malek again. Surely Pindar was all right. She just needed to find him and make sure.
Malek made a c
hoking sound, then said, “Artepa—”
She felt Leinos stiffen at the strangled tone in the boy’s voice. “What is it?”
“She is hurt. Hurry.”
Swiftly, Leinos stood, lifting Lauren into his arms, and they followed Malek across the lake bed. Above the treetops, the glow of the rising moons began to brighten the darkness.
“Put me down,” Lauren insisted. She wanted to get to Artepa as quickly as he. Surely they could go faster if he weren’t carrying her.
“Do not argue. You can barely stand and have no boots.”
Lauren bit down on her retort. Some things never changed. Nor would she want him to. She’d thought to never see him again—or not for a while—let alone be clasped to his chest. Hope for that had been packed away. Being next to him again made her giddy and lightheaded. Or maybe that was exhaustion. She could feel his fatigue, the long-contained anxiety for his country’s survival, and maybe for her. Now, new apprehension for Artepa, the woman who had raised him, the woman who had been his guardian for many years.
The woman who had become her friend.
In her head, she screamed, no, no, no. Artepa couldn’t be seriously hurt. Pheeso wouldn’t have allowed it. Leinos wouldn’t have allowed it. But he had come to her aid. She didn’t even know how he and Malek had gotten here. Maybe he hadn’t even seen the guardians.
Shadows flickered around them, the Horseguard walked to either side. Horses following. For all that, quiet, except for Leinos’s panting. She peered at his face. Never had she heard him struggle for air like this. Deep hollows carved shadows beneath his eyes, dried blood caked his shoulder, and dirt ground into his pores. Never had she seen him look so frayed around the edges. And never had he looked more dear. What had he been through while they were apart?
Her heart wanted to shatter. She had called the horses. They should be celebrating.
He glanced down, caught her staring and a weary smile shown from his eyes. He hefted her a little higher and she buried her face against his shoulder.
And then he put her down next to Artepa. Pheeso knelt at his lifemate’s side, holding her hand, his features haggard and fixed as stone. A dark stain spread down the entire front of the woman’s tunic, and there was a sound, a sucking sound, her breathing, as if she were under water.
Not far away, one of Cadell’s men lay spreadeagled and motionless, a stave buried deep in his chest.
Lauren dropped to her knees and Malek sat next to her while Leinos took Artepa’s other hand in his. He tried to contain an anguished cry, but it escaped from deep within, and Lauren felt it echo in her soul. There was nothing they could do. She heard it in his voice and saw it in Pheeso’s stillness.
“They are here,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on his lifemate.
Artepa’s lids fluttered and it took her a moment to focus on Lauren’s face. “Thank you,” she said. “I saw them.” She blinked, struggled for air. “For a moment…I saw them.”
Lauren looked about her. “Back off,” she said. “Let the horses through.” The horses had helped her, she was sure of it. After she had fallen down the cliff and into the river, they had pulled her out and healed her wounds. Maybe—
The Horseguard moved aside, and the horses came closer.
Lauren stroked Artepa’s hair. “Thank you,” she whispered, though she was not sure the woman heard.
A horse the color of a faded autumn oak leaf came forward. He had long whiskers and deep indentations above his tired eyes which were ringed with gray hair. Gently, gently, he put his muzzle to Artepa’s cheek and exhaled. She smiled.
“Sweet horse breath.” She coughed, and then, on a sigh, “Merci…ful…Goddess.”
Leinos placed Artepa’s hand flat on the horse’s cheek. Her face relaxed and became suffused with elation.
The horse began to glow a dark gold. The light spread to Artepa, becoming brighter. Leinos drew Lauren and Malek back. Pheeso kept hold of Artepa’s hand. Horse and woman began to shimmer. Little by little, they faded, leaving only the light, which lifted and merged and glowed even more brightly. White. Hot.
The cloud flickered like a Fourth-of-July sparkler and moved, first through Lauren, then Leinos and Malek, and finally Pheeso, who had tears streaking down his cheeks. It spiraled up, around the herd, above the trees, and blended into the night sky with the moons and stars.
Lauren stared at the spot where it vanished for a long time. No one spoke. When she looked back to where Artepa had been only moments before, there was no trace. The old horse—gone as well. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She looked at Leinos.
“What the hell just happened?”
Chapter 34
BY the next morning, Leinos still did not have an answer to Lauren’s question. All he knew was that Artepa died a guardian, and that is what he told the Horsecaller. But Arepa’s passing was nothing he had ever seen before, nothing that he knew of dying. Nearby, the Horseguard tended a cleansing fire that consumed Tinnisian and yekerk remains. That was what he knew of death—remains. But with Artepa, none, only the soaring light. And the horse—he had hoped Lauren would know, but she did not.
Most guardians were disrequired before dying. Had anyone ever witnessed a guardian passing? Did they usually leave behind a body, or was it the horse that made the difference? Had she died at all? She had been mortally wounded, of that he was sure. He disliked not knowing and could tell Pheeso pondered these questions as well, but Leinos had to put it out of his mind for now.
“Drink,” he had told Lauren shortly after they had returned to themselves. After they had stared at the starry sky in silence for a long time. Not a one of them had drawn breath during those moments. Perhaps it was the stars. Clouds had congested Cirq’s skies for so long, he scarcely remembered the look of the night’s sparkle.
She had wanted to immediately search for Pindar. He understood, but she could barely stand up or even grasp the cup. He held it so she could drink, then examined her hands. His glance found Geed, who needed no words to understand. He returned shortly with bandages. Enaid started a fire and soon brought warm water, and in short order, he had Lauren’s lacerated palms cleaned and wrapped.
She looked as though she might sink into the earth, as though her bones and muscles had fused and she was no more than a lump of clay that a good rain would dissolve. He felt much the same, and if Pheeso’s sluggish movements were any indication, they were not alone. Still, the ache in their hearts for Artepa had to wait.
He wanted to hold Lauren, to tell her he loved her, how afraid he had been when he and Malek were trapped underground—afraid he would never see her again. The elation that had knocked his breath away when he saw her ride out of the forest at the head of the herd. Only to have that swept by fear when Cadell and his men appeared. He wanted to take her to his fur and stay there until the ground shook with their love, to make her his, to be hers, to fall together into exhausted sleep.
But her mind was far away, not on him, not on them.
“I have to find him,” she whispered. “He might not be the only one we left behind.”
She meant Pindar, of course. He understood. He crouched before her, knowing it would always be thus. The horses would ever be uppermost in her mind. As it should be. As Cirq had always been when he was Supreme Guardian.
He caressed her cheek, and she leaned into him, eyelids drooping closed. Despite that, he could see the determined set of her jaw. He kissed her forehead. “We will all go,” he had told her. She started to push herself up, but he held her in place. “After you eat. That is all I ask.”
She wobbled to her feet, insisting she was fine, then teetered into him.
“When was the last time you took any nourishment?”
“Don’t know,” she murmured against his chest. “Yesterday, I think. No, that’s not right. Maybe the day before that.”
His eyes found Enaid, but she was already digging in her pack.
“Do you remember,” he asked as he slowly low
ered them both to the ground. “Do you remember how many days you have left to deliver the horses?”
She rubbed her hand over her face then through her hair, and blew out a breath of frustrated air. “Today was thirteen days.”
He shook his head. “Today was ten days.”
Her brows drew together, and she blinked several times, trying to work it out. “I lost three days? But—”
Enaid handed him a plate, and he passed it to Lauren. “Eat.”
Lauren had eaten, shoveling in food and washing it down like she was starved, but he knew it was so they could be away. Someone found boots for her bare feet. He had stood and moved off, rolling his shoulders, trying to keep a lid on his simmering anger. Anger that she had had to do this alone, had faced Cadell and the yekerk alone, and anger, still, at the queen, for the impossible deadline they faced.
Not, however, anger for being disrequired. No. He might wish for the power of Supreme Guardian, but he welcomed the freedom to do as he pleased, to love.
Lauren came to his side, took his arm, laid her cheek against his shoulder, and sighed. He hugged her, kissed the top of her head. “Shall we find Pindar?” he asked.
They had searched through the night.
Toward daylight, Malek found him. “Horsecaller,” he shouted. “Here he is. Hurry.”
The big gray stood at the bottom of a bluff, across the river at the edge of the plain, head low, one hind leg cocked, the bony protrusion above his eye cut and bleeding. Another stood behind him, a small brown horse with black mane and tail and long legs. He and Lauren skidded down the steep incline nearly tumbling over each other to reach the horse. A rope pulled tight around Pindar’s neck. They found a man at the other end, or what was left of one, face down in the river.
When Lauren reached Pindar, he greeted her with a faint sound, a tremor of his nostrils. She touched his cheek and said something Leinos could not hear. The horse pressed his head against her belly, and she put her arms around his neck. Parts of his shoulder, side, and hip had been scraped clean of hair. His left hind leg bent awkwardly, and he would not put weight on it.