by Matt Laney
“That’s a good lad.”
“Let’s move,” Grandfather says, sounding ever more like the commander in chief. Yet the toll of this night shows in his bent back and labored gait. And we still have a decent march ahead of us to the fence where the carriage and karkadanns await.
For me, it is a new day, one that I had not counted on seeing. The air is soft. Everything is awash in sweet, green freshness and glazed with morning light. If not for the threat of a Maguar invasion bringing the end of the world as we know it, I might feel as bright and carefree as those sun-drenched leaves dancing overhead.
Soon the Border Zone Fence is in view, rolling out of the ground like a giant metal serpent. Ten steps later I see the carriage. The karkadanns have spotted us too, their ears erect and snouts sniffing the air. Grandfather drapes an arm around my shoulder to use me as a crutch.
“Leo,” he says as we lumber on. “Tonight we will feast at the castle with the senior soldiers of the Royal Army in honor of your triumph over the slaycon.”
I feel a rush of pride, knowing how much this means to him, followed by a shiver of dread because I did not triumph over Storm in true warrior fashion.
“Then you will go immediately to the Academy.” He stops and scans the horizon. “These are dark, difficult times for Singara, Leo. Tamir has grown powerful, and there are many who stand with him. His supporters are everywhere. Even at the Academy.”
He turns to me, locking his eyes with mine.
“I should have reined Tamir in long ago. But because he is family, because he is my brother’s son, I did not. And now the realm I will hand over to you is at risk of coming apart.”
Grandfather’s features are weighed down with regret and fatigue. I picture him falling asleep as soon as we touch the velvet seats of the carriage. Then he brightens, enlivened by a more hopeful insight.
“What do we have to worry about?” he says, slapping me on the back and urging us toward the fence. “If you can triumph over the Keeper’s most vicious slaycon, a few troublesome Singas at the Academy won’t be any problem for you!”
Chapter 8
By crawling a cub learns to stand.
—Sayings of the Ancients
randfather doesn’t sleep. He’s too busy thinking. He hunches forward in his seat, head in hands, his mane a wilderness of tangles and disordered strands. Morning sunlight streams through the carriage window.
“Leo, there is something you must hear,” he says at last, “something I did not wish to share among the others. There are facts about the Great War not recorded in the Kahn’s History that every Singa-Kahn after me should hear. These facts prove why the Great Wall and the Border Zone Fence are necessities beyond all others. Never, never forget what I am about to tell you.”
I sit on the edge of my seat, ears angled forward, whiskers twitching.
Grandfather breathes somberly, summoning his strength. Whatever he is about to say, it brings him no pleasure. “In the years before the Great War there was a fragile truce between the Singa and Maguar races. There were occasional skirmishes along the border between our lands, but all in all things were peaceful enough. One day, when your mother was just a cub, as was Tamir, the Maguar attacked without warning and without cause. This was the beginning of the Great War. They bombarded us in overwhelming numbers. We held them off, but the fighting was severe, and casualties were heavy on both sides. Day after day, week after week, the Maguar pressed on with their campaign, and though I am not proud to admit it, they began pushing us back, claiming our land for themselves. The enemy was winning.
“They might have conquered us entirely if not for the terrible strangeness that followed. I despair to speak of it . . . or even to recall it.”
Grandfather shifts and rubs his temples. “The battle reached the place where the Great Wall stands today, which tells you that our lands used to stretch much farther than they do now. The Maguar swept forward, determined and unrelenting. That’s when we saw him, the one we call the Abomination.
“Behind the first wave of enemy warriors, a solitary warrior stood on a platform carried by four of the largest Maguar I had ever laid eyes on. He was slender of build yet fearsome to behold. His face had been painted in the fashion of a great bird, and his mane was woven with firewing feathers. More feathers were attached to his arms, which he extended upward as though he might lift into the air. With one hand, he held a brightly colored staff. He was in some sort of trance, and yet he spoke with a commanding voice.”
Grandfather appears to be in a trance himself as he reveals these details. He’s looking at me, but his mind is far from this carriage.
“As he spoke, a horde of beasts appeared; slaycons and draycons, giant wolves and bears, serpents as wide as this carriage, and other horrible monsters unknown to this earth. I did not stop to count, but there were hundreds of hideous creatures flinging our warriors aside and blazing a trail for Singara with thousands of Maguar in their wake. All the while, Maguar warriors chanted, ‘Damar ha shem! Damar ha shem! Damar ha shem,’ over and over as they fought on with renewed vigor. That dreadful chant, whatever it means, still rings in my ears and chills me to the bone. We were overwhelmed, overpowered by this new army of creatures. It appeared that all hope of protecting our realm, and our way of life, was lost.”
“The Maguar on the platform, the Abomination, was he . . . a Spinner?” I interject, hoping there’s no sign of the somersaults going on in my stomach.
“He was. More powerful than any Spinner I have ever seen before or since. There are rumors, seldom spoken, that such Spinners are born to the Maguar, but rarely.”
“But the Maguar did not succeed,” I say. “What happened?”
“Kaydan and I were the first to conclude that the Abomination on the platform was the cause, the conjurer, of those monstrosities. I ordered all of our arrows and blades to be concentrated on him. Naturally, the Maguar and the monsters did everything they could to protect their demon of a weapon. The battlefield was awash in blood and covered with the bodies of Singas and Maguar alike, though the casualties were heavier on our side. We lost many, many fine warriors in that effort, including my own brother . . . and my sons.
“It was General Dagan, only a young captain in those days, who felled the Abomination with one well-placed arrow. With his death, all the beasts he’d conjured vanished in a flash, as if they had never existed. At that precise moment the earth shook. It was the same earthquake that created the crack in the central hall of the castle. The quake spooked the Maguar as much as the death of the Abomination and the disappearance of his monsters. They all turned tail and retreated to their lands. We gave chase, bringing down as many Maguar as we could before they reached unknown territory, and we dared pursue them no farther.”
“So you ordered the construction of the Great Wall and Border Zone Fence, not only to keep the Maguar out, but any beasts conjured up by another . . . Abomination?”
Grandfather lifts his chin. “For twenty-five years the wall and the fence have protected us from another invasion and the horrors of their sorcery. This is why we have always dealt swiftly and harshly with Spinners. Most Spinners are harmful only in their ability to pollute facts with fiction. Some Spinners, however, like that painted and feathered demon from the Great War, have the power to turn fiction into facts.”
My stomach tightens. I look away, terrified he might see a glimmer of the enemy Spinner in me. If that ever happens, everything will be ruined.
• • •
We exit the shadows of the forest and roll into the light of an overcast morning. Galil stops the carriage at the army outpost, dismounts from the driver’s bench, and opens the door for the Kahn and me. As Grandfather climbs out, the karkadanns stamp and paw the earth in expectation of the food and water that will soon be theirs.
The soldiers stationed here bow respectfully to Grandfather, but their attention is on the carriage. They wonder if he is alone, whether the prince has enjoyed victory over the slaycon or if h
e is being digested in his gut. Although the outcome of my hunt is old news to us, it has not yet reached this outpost, let alone all of Singara. Grandfather is not blind to the soldiers’ curiosity.
“Leo, perhaps we should take a moment to stretch our legs before we continue the journey home.”
That’s my cue.
I pop into the open carriage doorway, prompting cheers and roars from the soldiers. Grandfather beams and even I permit a smile.
A captain offers his quadron as an escort back to Singara. Grandfather accepts and draws the captain away to determine the best route into the city. There’s the simple matter of getting into and through a city bursting with curiosity over my fate.
And then there’s Tamir.
No telling what he’s been plotting in our absence.
“Will we go through the main city gate?” I ask when we’re on our way, this time with Galil joining us in the carriage.
“I do not think that would be wise,” Grandfather says. “The city will be in an uproar as soon as it becomes public knowledge that you have proven yourself in the hunt. We will enter discreetly, quietly, through the Needle’s Eye, closer to the castle.”
The Needle’s Eye is a crack in the city wall that surrounds Singara, made by the earthquake that ended the Great War. The opening is just large enough for one Singa to squeeze through.
“Not through the Mountain Pass?”
The Mountain Pass, an escape tunnel cut straight through several kilometers of mountain rock from the castle courtyard to the southern edge of the city, is available to only a few top-ranking warriors.
“The Mountain Pass would be the most direct route, but it’s too obvious and too confined, and therefore too dangerous. Tamir would expect us to go that way. It’s possible he would trap us in there and see to it that we never come out.”
After the failed attempt to murder me, most likely orchestrated by Tamir and Anjali, I’m sure he’s right.
“He seemed so concerned about my safety two nights ago, on the eve of my hunt.”
Grandfather sours. “Fables and fantasy! He only wanted to delay your hunt to keep you from being confirmed as my heir. Listen to me, Leo. Tamir may be your elder cousin, but all you are to him is an obstacle to the throne. He’s more dangerous now than ever. Fear him as much as the Maguar.”
“Have you considered that Tamir may have some of his soldiers stationed near the Needle’s Eye?” Galil asks.
“I have, Galil. And I have made arrangements.”
Galil lowers his voice. “And have you further considered that the quadron with us right now may be loyal to Tamir as well?”
Grandfather leans forward and gestures for us to do the same. Our heads meet in the center of the carriage.
“For the time being we must assume that any soldier unknown to us could be with Tamir, even our escorts; however, I do not believe these soldiers, if they are disloyal to the throne, would do anything to reveal their treachery. Not yet. The situation is too fragile for Tamir to act boldly. We have that to our advantage.”
“I think our advantages are few at the moment, dear Kahn,” Galil says. “Once the Pride learns that Leo has killed his slaycon, their opinion of him will be strengthened. If Tamir wants to make a move, he would do it before we reach the castle, perhaps even before we reach the city.”
Grandfather bows his head and releases a long and weary breath. I can’t remember ever being at Grandfather’s side and not feeling completely safe. My thoughts drift to Sariah and her quadron, some of our most trusted and skilled soldiers, now many kilometers away guarding the wall. What else could Grandfather do but leave them there, putting himself at risk to protect the whole city?
That’s what Kahns do.
“Do you see what one troublesome, power-hungry Singa can reduce us to, Leo?” Grandfather explodes. “Sneaking around our realm like frightened mice! I have put up with Tamir for too long. Tonight, I will deal with him once and for all!”
No sooner is this pledge spoken than we feel the carriage veer off the main road to Singara onto a less traveled, bumpier trail to the south. Grandfather’s head perks up. He looks out the little round window in the carriage door.
“This is the road to the Mountain Pass!”
“It is as we suspected,” Galil says evenly.
Grandfather smacks the carriage wall to get the driver’s attention. “Halt!”
Instead of slowing down, the carriage speeds up.
“Stop this carriage now!”
The carriage rolls on, towed by the now charging karkadanns. Grandfather puts one hand on the hilt of his dagger and the other on the handle of the door. He pushes, but the door holds fast.
We’re locked in.
“What the devil?” Grandfather snarls, shaking the handle and throwing his full weight behind the door. He kicks it furiously, pounding again and again, like a trapped and desperate animal.
“It is no use, Sire! You know how strong and secure this carriage is. We will not get out that way. But there is another.”
Galil points to the floor, and Grandfather wastes no time rolling back the carpet at our feet to uncover a little trapdoor. It’s barely large enough for an average-size Singa to stick his leg through. He opens the hatch to reveal the ground streaming by.
They turn to me.
“Leo,” Grandfather begins, but I know what he’s going to say. “You are the only one who can get through this hatch. Go down, climb your way to the front, and pull the pin connecting the carriage to the team of karkadanns. When you pull that pin, the karkadanns will be free of the carriage. You will have a split second to leap onto the pole between them. The karkadann team will spirit you away while the carriage slows to a stop. Get yourself to the Needle’s Eye. General Kaydan will meet you there and take you back to the castle.”
It’s a good plan. The only problem is I have no idea how to find the crack in the city wall known as the Needle’s Eye. And I have a larger concern on my mind.
“What about you and Galil? The quadron outside will—”
“We can handle these traitorous vermin,” he says with a wink. Galil doesn’t look so sure about that. “You must be brave, Leo,” Grandfather continues. “Think and act like a Kahn. Don’t bog yourself down with worries about me. Get to the Needle’s Eye. Find Kaydan. He will protect you far better than I can.”
I stare at Grandfather, impressing his features upon my mind in case this is the last memory I have of him. He cups my jaw with one hand.
“You are so important, Leo. Do take good care of yourself.” Grandfather resumes his stony, authoritative face. “Go! Now!”
I take a deep breath and lower my feet through the hole when Galil lays a tender hand on my arm.
“The laws of gravity and motion suggest you have a better chance of survival if you go in headfirst. With your face up toward the bottom of the carriage, you can shimmy your way to the front, along the center beam. Your claws will serve you well on this little journey.”
Galil, ever the scientist, sounds like he’s reciting a math formula. On the other hand, his delivery concentrates my mind and sweeps fear aside. He produces a scarf from a hidden pocket of his robe.
“Wrap this around your muzzle. It will help you breathe down there.”
With the scarf tied on, I slide onto my back and dip my head through the opening. At first I’m blinded by the cloud of dirt kicked up by the carriage wheels and pounding karkadann feet. To my left, through the haze, Singara comes into view, the high outer wall wrapped like a belt around the sprawling city. This carriage is bound for the mountainside, to the opening of the Mountain Pass, where Tamir will surely be waiting for us. The Needle’s Eye, that sliver of an entryway in the city wall, must be close at hand.
I wiggle one arm and then the other through the hatch and dig my claws into the wood of the carriage’s center beam. I extract my legs, pressing my toe claws into the underside of the carriage and wrapping my tail around me to keep it from getting shredded on the
ground. I must look like an ant clinging upside down to a blade of grass.
I move forward, claw by claw, toward the pin connecting the carriage to the pole that runs between the karkadanns. The front axle provides a better way to hang on while yanking the pin free.
But the pin doesn’t come free. It’s wedged in place, unwilling to move.
“Leo!”
I look back along the base of the carriage and find Galil’s head sticking out of the hatch. If this wasn’t a make-one-wrong-move-and-die type of situation, the sight of his plump, upside-down face poking through the hatch would be wildly funny.
“You must unclip the pin from the bottom!” he bellows.
My fingers find the clip below the pin and pop it open. The pin bounces up and down like a cub jumping on his bed. Galil nods encouragingly. With a good yank the pin slides out, and the pole connected to the karkadanns begins to drift away. Remembering Grandfather’s instructions, I pump my legs and shoot out from under the carriage into the light of day between the karkadanns.
The driver notices me right away and calls out to his companions.
“The prince! The prince is escaping! Get up here with arrows!”
The two soldiers riding on the back of the carriage crawl forward over the roof. The carriage, separated from the team, slows as the karkadanns continue their charging pace. The driver grips the reins and quickly finds himself drawn forward until he is teetering over the growing gap of ground.
“Whoa! Whoa!” he commands, but the karkadanns show no sign of breaking their stride. Just to be sure, I slap their rears and yell to keep them moving. With a yowl, the driver is yanked to the ground, releases the reins, and flops about like a fish out of water before becoming completely still. It’s a sickening sight and a comforting one.
That’s one less traitor for Grandfather and Galil to deal with.
The other soldiers watch helplessly as their prized captive is whisked away. One of them notches an arrow to the string of his bow.