by Jenn Reese
As they got closer, Aluna smelled smoke from the forging fires and heard the heavy clank of hammers echoing in the trees and cliffs. They had so much building to do. So much planning. But in every meaningful way, Horizon’s Reach was already home.
She leaned forward and patted Vachir’s neck. “You assured me your injuries were healed,” she said, “and yet here we are, barely trotting back home.”
Vachir whinnied and drove forward, her legs pounding the sand even harder. Aluna laughed and sank low in her saddle. They were both so predictable and stubborn. They should never have been friends, and yet here they were: two parts of the same heart.
The cove nestled between two curved fingers of land, creating a deep, protected bay. With only one small opening to the ocean, Kampii and Deepfell could live safely inside, with or without their breathing devices.
Some Kampii were digging their nests underwater, but a surprising number had chosen surface homes. Aluna wondered if their younglings would take the Ocean Seed and grow their tails, or if a new sort of Kampii would emerge — Kampii who kept their legs and walked Above World. She smiled. What a sight that would be.
“Anadar,” Aluna whispered.
Vachir huffed and took her down a small slope toward a quiet patch of pure white sand. Two ends of a broken spear crossed each other behind a heavy stone that Aluna had hauled up from the training dome in the City of Shifting Tides. No other grave marker had seemed right.
Aluna had been giving Anadar updates almost every day, but this time it had been a week since her last visit.
“Daphine has been voted onto the council to represent the Kampii,” she said. “No surprise there, of course. And her scope will give her an edge. The Humans — that’s what the Upgraders want us to call them — have chosen a man named Kettle. Renowned for his cooking, I think. Hoku was hoping they’d pick Rollin, but Rollin wanted nothing to do with long meetings where you can’t throw things at people.”
Vachir whinnied lightly, sharing the joke.
“Tayan will represent the Equians,” Aluna continued. “You never met her, but you’d like her. Before she was injured, she could have taught you a few things about swords. Master Sefu will speak for the Serpenti, though not many of them are making the long journey through the desert. Flicker is the likely choice for the Silvae, and Prince Eekikee is still deciding whom to appoint. I don’t think we’ll see much of the Deepfell, honestly, but our alliance is still strong.”
A strong breeze raced over the water. Aluna lifted her chin and let it whip her short hair around her face. “Oh, and as for the Aviars . . .”
Calli stood at the construction site for Cloudpoint, what would someday be a graceful spire overlooking Horizon’s Reach, and the home to its Aviars. She held her arms and wings out while a woman with giant green-tipped wings briskly recorded her measurements.
“I don’t need new armor,” Calli said.
“Yes, you do,” her mother countered. President Iolanthe leaned against a partly built stone wall, her one wing folded behind her back, and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you think, Electra?”
The High Senator snorted. Her left arm hung uselessly at her side, but the injury had done nothing to soften Electra’s attitude. “I think anyone representing us on a council ought to look like a warrior, not some rumpled fledgling fallen from its nest.”
Calli rolled her eyes. “As soon as you two go back to Skyfeather’s Landing, I’m wearing my old clothes again.”
The armorer finished her task, bowed to her president, and flew off. Iolanthe took three quick strides and wrapped her arms around Calli. Calli pressed her cheek into her mother’s shoulder and felt the whisper of a kiss on her head.
“I’m so proud of you, my daughter,” her mother said. “So very proud.”
Calli closed her eyes. “I’m proud of me, too.”
“No, over there,” Tayan said. “I like it better by the door.”
Dash sighed, but Pocket picked up his end of the table eagerly. Dash suspected the boy had developed feelings for Tayan, khan of Flame Heart and newly appointed Equian councillor. He imagined there were worse choices for a first crush, but none came readily to mind.
They moved the table — one of the many artifacts they’d recovered from Karl Strand’s hoard — and Tayan finally seemed pleased.
“We have other homes to furnish,” Dash said. “Perhaps perfecting the table’s location can wait. My family will not arrive for many days. Erke and Gan only left to fetch them a week ago.”
Councillor Tayan smiled. It was unnerving how often she did that nowadays. “Flame Heart and your family are leaving the desert, the only home they have known for centuries. This is a great, terrifying thing we have asked of them, Dashiyn. A great breach of tradition.”
“If they do not wish to come, they —”
“No. Listen,” she said, stomping her hoof. “Change can be a daily battle. A warm fire, a tasty skewer of scorpion, a well-placed table — these details may mean the difference between thinking of Horizon’s Reach as a place to live, and thinking of it as a home.”
“I love the way you talk,” Pocket said, then immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified.
Tayan laughed. “Go. Both of you. It is almost sunset.”
Dash lifted the heavy fur covering the door and blinked in the fading light. He stared at the tiny drawing of a closed fist that Pocket had etched into the skin of his forearm. Odd’s mark. “It is time for new traditions.”
Hoku waited on the beach, just out of the surf’s reach. His vision was slowly returning, thanks to the drops that Nathif and Mags had made for him, but he still preferred to use Zorro’s eyes. He’d gotten used to relying on the little guy during the long weeks after the battle with Strand.
Rollin coming, Zorro told him. Apple, maybe?
“Scan her and see for yourself,” Hoku said. His vision switched to analysis mode, and Rollin’s stocky form sprouted labels. None of which said APPLE. “Sorry, Zorro. Maybe next time.”
“Sun’s almost down,” Rollin said as she lumbered toward him. “They’re all late, the gobbly basics.”
“They still have six-point-three-one minutes,” Hoku replied easily. “Give or take a few seconds.”
Rollin grunted and lowered herself to the ground. She was old. Older than she looked. But Horizon’s Reach had given her new energy, new purpose. She pored over the city’s planning schematics every night. The ramps and elevators had been her idea, so every person could go every place, whether they had wings or tails or hooves or legs. Given enough time, she’d probably find a way to let the Aviars live underwater if they wanted.
Rollin’s ideas and energy were exactly what they needed to make Horizon’s Reach the city that they all wanted it to be. The city of their brighter future.
“Did you talk to Squirrel?” Hoku asked.
“Started yesterday,” Rollin said. “Already tried to cut her own thumb off. I throw things at her, she throws them back.”
Hoku chuckled.
“Brave girl, though. Quick mind. Wants to make things.” Rollin sighed. “So do I. Things for bettering, not for breaking. No more weapons. Not ever again.”
“In that case, I’ll be visiting your workshop more often,” Hoku said.
“You visit, you work,” Rollin said gruffly, but Hoku could hear the warmth in her voice.
Nathif. Calli. Zorro announced. Dash. Pocket. Aluna. Vachir.
Hoku smiled and watched his friends walk, slither, and trot over the sand. They smiled and greeted one another, and his heart swelled to the size of Big Blue.
Aluna slid her tail out of her saddle and hopped to the ground beside him. She was finally wearing her mother’s ring — not hidden in the pouch hanging from her neck, but on her finger. Her wild hair danced around her head. Through Zorro’s eyes, Hoku saw her stare at him with nothing but love.
“You thought I’d be late,” Aluna said.
“The sun would have waited,” he answe
red.
They stood together on the cool sand and watched in silence as the sun drifted peacefully toward the sea.
The Above World Team really came through for me on this book. Thanks to Stephanie Burgis for her amazing pep talks and advice, to Chris East for his love of spies and Upgraders, and to Deborah Coates, Sarah Prineas, and Greg van Eekhout for their continued support and friendship. Christine Ashworth, Sally Felt, Yvonne Jocks, Anne Nesbet, and Sabine Watts were always ready with virtual cupcakes and confetti. Thanks to the Blue Heaven crew, led by the inestimable C.C. Finlay, and to the incredibly supportive middle-grade and young adult authors in Los Angeles who spend all their evenings at one another’s book events.
My editor, Sarah Ketchersid, helped me make this the book of my dreams with her perfect blend of kindness, savvy, and creative inspiration. Our partnership has been one of the best parts of this whole process. I treasure the entire Candlewick team, including: Melanie Cordova, Erika Denn, Tracy Miracle, Hilary Van Dusen, Andrea Tompa, Rachel Smith, Katie Ring, Hannah Mahoney, and the hard-working sales and marketing team.
Thanks to Joe Monti, my agent, for countless things, but especially for wanting Hoku to get an upgrade; to Patricia Ready for running everything with style and humor; and to Barry Goldblatt for bringing the agency together in the first place.
Thanks to Kate Rudd for her riveting narration on the audiobooks and to Alexander Jansson for his gorgeous cover art.
Big thanks, too, to the great local bookstores who’ve welcomed and supported me: Children’s Book World, Curious Cup, Flintridge Books, Mrs. Dalloway’s, Mrs. Nelson’s Toys and Books, Mysterious Galaxy, and Once Upon A Time Bookstore, among others.
And last of all, I want to thank a few of the readers who’ve taken the time to share their enthusiasm (and sometimes even their fan art) with me: Federico, Sophie, Jillian, Ethan, The Maud, Samantha, Shelby, Rihanna, the Munoz family, Claudia, friends both near and far, and whole hordes of book bloggers. Your passion has meant so much to me.
I treasure this journey with all my heart and am grateful that I didn’t have to make it alone.
www.candlewick.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2014 by Jenn Reese
Cover illustration copyright © 2014 by Alexander Jansson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2014
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2013951756
ISBN 978-0-7636-6417-6 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-7636-6977-5 (electronic)
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