Jesse pressed his lips together and nodded.
5
SOUNDLESS SOUND
Something hard smacked Elin’s forehead, and she opened her eyes with a start. The wind whipped her hair and ruffled the fur on Leelan’s neck. Far below she could see the green forest spreading across the land. A chill seized her gut, chasing away all trace of drowsiness. She rubbed the lump that was beginning to swell on her forehead and checked to make sure that the other Beasts were still flying in formation.
She couldn’t believe she’d dozed off in the middle of a training flight. It showed how tired she was. For more than a year, she’d not only been training and studying the Royal Beasts, but also teaching Jesse. Fitting Jesse’s lessons into an already busy schedule was hard, and at times she had felt sleep sucking her into its embrace. But to fall asleep while in the air!
I’ve got to get a little more rest.
She’d have to find a way to adjust her schedule. If she got sick, her efforts would have been for nothing. Although physically demanding, the hours she spent with Jesse in the evening were precious. She learned so much about him as she sat by his side and instructed him. He wasn’t an easy pupil. For one thing, he didn’t accept anything without question. He seemed to have his own unusual perspective and stubbornly resisted memorizing what she taught him until it made sense according to his own logic.
Even if he gets in to Kazalumu School, his teachers are going to be in for a challenge. And the other kids may get fed up with him, too.
Although this was a concern, Elin knew she had the same stubborn streak, and seeing it in him gave her a strange feeling. Recalling Jesse’s frowning face as he demanded to know why, she realized how incredibly patient her mentor Joeun had been.
She glanced at Leelan. Unlike Jesse, the Royal Beast memorized every command and did what she was told without question. If Elin tried to make her do something she didn’t want, she’d resist. But she never asked why. Although sometimes the Royal Beasts would gesture or cry out, as if checking whether they were doing what Elin wanted, they didn’t ask for explanations.
If only Leelan would, she thought. If only we could talk about such things together.
She’d thought this many times and tried to find ways to make it happen. But she had yet to achieve such a complex conversation.As she flew along lost in thought, Elin suddenly realized it was getting harder to see ahead. Thick clouds covered the sky, blocking the sun. It had started growing darker a while back, and the air had felt chilly against her skin. Now, however, the clouds seemed to disintegrate, wrapping the world in white mist.
Elin frowned. What should I do? We’re almost there.
She was headed toward the Stone Colonnade, a valley studded with great rock pillars that rose up to pierce the heavens. She’d been planning to fly the Royal Beasts through the pillars without breaking formation, but it would be too dangerous to fly through the rocks in the mist.
As she pondered what to do, the mist thickened rapidly, wrapping itself around Leelan’s body as she flew. The way forward was veiled by white clouds. When Elin glanced to the side, she could no longer see Eku or the others.
We’d better go back, she thought, and raised her harp. At that moment, Leelan flapped her wings and swerved suddenly.
“Whoa!” Elin was jerked sideways. The harp flew from her hand, hitting the saddle before it bounced off. If it hadn’t been tied to her with a rope, it would have plunged to the ground far below. She grabbed the saddle with one hand and fumbled for her harp with the other. A chill ran along her back as her eyes followed Leelan’s wings slicing through the wind.
Something stroked her face, like a ripple running across it, and Leelan swerved once again. The mist swirled, caught by the gust from Leelan’s wings. A huge shadow loomed through the break, and Elin caught her breath.
The stone columns!
They’d already reached the Stone Colonnade! And were flying blind right through those pillars! It was only a matter of time before they crashed into them.
“Leelan!” Elin screamed, her lips trembling. “Up! Fly up!”
They had to get up above the rocks. But the moment she stroked the harp to tell the other Beasts to rise, she was thrown so violently to one side she thought her shoulder would dislocate. Something skimmed the tip of her head. Looking up, her eyes widened. Right above her was damp black stone. Leelan had been flying underneath a rock outcrop.
Fear seized Elin, and she froze, not knowing what to tell the Beasts. All she could do was cling to the saddle so that she wouldn’t fall off.
Leelan appeared to be following Elin’s last command to move up because she was rising higher. Rock pillars appeared from the mist but Leelan never hit one. With powerful strokes she twisted and turned, slipping through them with ease.
As Elin gave herself up to the flight, she noticed something strange. Leelan was avoiding the stones before they came into view. It was only after Leelan swerved that Elin saw each pillar. The Royal Beast seemed to be keeping a fixed distance between herself and the stones, as though she could feel their location without having to see them. Although she had no idea where the other Beasts were, Elin heard no thud of impact or screams of pain, so she assumed they must be evading the columns as well.
But how?
Straining every nerve to feel what Leelan was doing, she realized that a split second before Leelan’s muscles rippled for a swerve, her ears pricked. And just before that, Elin felt something—a ripple of air—caress her face. That’s when Leelan’s ears twitched.
Wind? Was Leelan reading the movement of the wind? No. It seemed more like she was listening to something. But what? Elin could hear nothing.
A soundless sound, she thought.
At that moment, the world around her brightened, and Leelan burst above the mist. Gazing down, Elin felt goosebumps rise on her skin. Below her, the other Beasts flew in perfect formation, keeping a fixed distance between each one.
Royal Beasts weren’t like humans. Perhaps they could measure distance with something other than their eyes. Speechless, Elin stared at their radiant forms.
6
JESSE ENROLLS
The entrance exam for Kazalumu School took place on the morning of a very hot summer day. Those who passed would return to Kazalumu in the fall when school started.
As she did every morning, Elin sent the Royal Beasts into the pasture so she could clean the stables. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Jesse, who would be sitting in a classroom, taking the exam. One after another, his weak points popped into her mind, and she felt her chest tighten. If he failed the test and had to leave the Royal Beasts behind to become an artisan, he would probably have a more peaceful life. But having seen how diligently he’d studied, driven solely by his desire to be with the Beasts, she couldn’t help but hope that he passed.
The school bell sounded, and Elin paused in the middle of wiping the floor. The bell marked the end of the exam. The teachers would now gather to mark the papers. She’d done it herself every year until a few years ago; she could picture in her mind exactly what was going on.
She had planned to keep on with her chores until Jesse came to tell her the results, but when she heard the bell that signaled the marks were in, she couldn’t stand it any longer. She dashed from the stable and headed toward the school. When she reached the familiar dark hallway and took off her dirty boots, her heart pounded and her knees shook.
Shafts of sunlight slanted through the windows onto the wide corridor. As she walked along it, a group of teachers at the other end turned and saw her. Tomura raised his brows and smiled, but she was too anxious to respond in kind. She bowed her head slightly, then stared rigidly at the room where the children were awaiting the verdict.
Because the day was hot, all the doors leading into the corridor, as well as all the windows, were open wide. Bathed in bright summer sunshine, the room was filled with twelve-year-olds sitting tensely as they were handed their papers. Elin saw Jesse sitting
second from the back by the window.
Once every child had their test, Esalu spoke, her face stern. “Look at your marks,” she said. “Those who received eighty-seven points or above have passed.”
A murmur rose from the children. Joy suffused the faces of some who could barely keep from jumping out of their seats. Others, however, put their heads on their desks and buried their faces in their arms. This was a scene Elin had witnessed many times, but she still found it difficult to watch the children who had failed. She kept her eyes on Jesse. He was biting his lip, his eyes on a girl weeping bitterly in front of him. Elin gripped her hands, unable to tell from his face if he’d passed or failed.
Jesse tore his eyes away from the girl and looked around the classroom. When he caught sight of Elin, his eyes widened, then he grinned.
He passed.
Relief drained the strength from Elin’s body, and she leaned against the wall. She was trembling so much, she was embarrassed.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and raised her head. “Congratulations,” Tomura said, an odd smile on his face. “Jesse’s test was quite something. I burst out laughing when I was marking it.”
“You did?” Elin said.
The other teachers smiled among themselves as Tomura continued. “He had you as his teacher, so he placed third overall in every subject. Otherwise he might have had a hard time passing with that answer.”
“What answer?” Elin asked nervously, and Tomura’s grin widened.
“His answer to the essay question on why he wanted to enter the school. I’ve been a teacher here a long time, but I’ve never seen anything quite like it. He wrote in big black letters, I love the Royal Beasts! So I want to be like my mother!”
Elin blushed bright red. She didn’t know if she should laugh or feel embarrassed, so she kept her head down. Still chuckling, Tomura patted her on the shoulder. “Just proves he’s your son, doesn’t it?”
* * *
After that, Jesse played like he’d forgotten what studying meant, reaching the day of the entrance ceremony in high spirits around the time the autumn winds began to blow. On the morning of the ceremony, he changed into his new clothes. As he tied his belt, he said suddenly, “I guess Dad won’t be coming, will he?”
Elin had just reached out to straighten his collar. She paused and looked at him. “I did write and tell him the date of the ceremony, but there’ve been quite a few skirmishes lately. It was probably difficult for him to get leave to come. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be patient. The fathers of many other students won’t be able to make it either.”
She adjusted his collar and stood up. “Let’s go, then. We live really close. We wouldn’t want that to end up making us late, would we?”
Though his face was still clouded, Jesse nodded and grasped his brand-new schoolbooks under his arm.
* * *
On sunny days, the entrance ceremony was held outside, but on rainy days, it was held in the dining hall. The day was cloudy with a light drizzle, and so the new students, who came from all over the kingdom, marched down the corridor toward the hall. As they stepped, tense-faced, through the door, applause erupted, and they stopped in surprise. The students from the higher grades stood in two rows, from the youngest to the eldest, welcoming the newcomers with smiles and waves.
“Line up!” Esalu’s powerful voice carried through the room. “That’s it. Line up in single file and pass between the other students.”
The boy at the front of the line stepped forward hesitantly, glancing behind him occasionally. The older students clasped hands and raised their arms above their heads to make an arch. Ducking, the new students began walking through the tunnel. They moved shyly at first, but gradually relaxed as the other students called out encouragingly. Their backs straightened, and by the end, they were skipping through.
Watching Jesse hop along, Elin remembered how she and Yuyan used to hold hands like this to welcome younger students. Beside her, a youthful father stretched to see his child, and his shoulder touched Elin’s. “Pardon me,” he said.
“Not at all,” Elin said with a smile. Looking at his happy face, she sighed inwardly. I wonder what Ialu’s doing, she thought. She wished he could have seen Jesse in his hour of triumph.
Esalu clapped her hands sharply, and the hall fell silent. “Attention, everyone!” she called out. “The entrance ceremony will now begin!”
At that moment, the door behind the parents opened with a click. Turning to look, Elin saw several parents who had arrived late step apologetically into the room. Catching sight of the figure in the rear, she blinked, unable to believe her eyes.
“Ialu!” she exclaimed, then clapped a hand to her mouth. Bowing in apology for disturbing the silence, Ialu walked over and stood beside her. He smelled of the cool autumn breeze and, very faintly, of Toda. Elin gaped at him. He flashed her a quick smile, then touched her shoulder, gesturing for her to look forward.
The children were all craning their necks to see what was going on, when suddenly Jesse jumped out of his seat with a shout. “Dad!” he cried. Turning to the others, he pointed. “That’s my father!” The other parents grinned.
With a bang, Esalu slammed her hand on her desk. “Jesse! Quiet, please!”
Jesse snapped to attention and bowed his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, and sat down.
“Once again, the ceremony will now begin,” Esalu said. She gestured with her right hand, and a row of students in the front lifted wooden flutes to their lips. As soon as they began playing, the other students and teachers raised their voices in the school’s song of welcome. Singing the familiar tune, Elin felt her eyes blur.
Ialu was supposed to be off guarding distant caravan cities. He must have ridden for days, changing horses along the way, she thought. Knowing what feeling had driven him to make such an effort, a warmth spread from her chest to the tips of her fingers. Beside her stood her husband. Before her was her son, who had just become a student of Kazalumu. Although she couldn’t stop time from moving on, this moment of happiness was right here, right now.
SEVEN
SPRING FLIGHT
1
ALU AND JESSE
Winter was more than half over when a message reached Kazalumu from the Yojeh. The snow that had been falling for days finally lifted after lunch, and the winter sky showed itself for the first time in a long while. It was then that the palace messenger, who had been stopped by the snow in the town below, was able to deliver her letter.
Esalu led the messenger to the guest room to wait in case an answer was required. She then put on her snow boots and, taking the letter, went to the training grounds to find Elin. As she trudged along the snowy road, she was conscious of her aching knees, and by the time she had trekked through the forest, she was gasping for breath. When she stepped onto the snowy plain, which seemed to stretch forever, the sun was beginning to tilt in the sky, tinting the snow pale pink. Royal Beasts stood scattered over the field.
“Elin!” she called.
Elin was standing beside Alu. She turned and, seeing Esalu, hurried across the snow, taking care not to slip.
“What is it?” she asked.
“There’s a message for you from the Yojeh,” Esalu said, rubbing her knees. “I assume it isn’t urgent because it wasn’t sent by horse, but as the messenger was delayed for some time by the snow, I thought you should probably look at it right away.” She took the letter from inside her cloak and handed it to Elin.
Elin pulled off her gloves with her teeth and broke the seal. The letter was written partly in code so that only those who knew it could understand the content. As she read, Elin’s face clouded slightly.
“What’s it say?” Esalu asked.
Elin looked up and handed her the letter. “She’s asking about our progress here. It’s not urgent, but…”
Esalu’s eyes swept across the page. When she finished, she sighed. “I see. The Yojeh’s starting to worry.”
After sharing the
situation at the palace and inquiring about the training, Seimiya had asked when they would begin breeding more Royal Beasts at the sanctuary. True to Seimiya’s character, her words were gentle, but the fact that she mentioned breeding at all—something she’d always avoided—could have meant people were beginning to question Elin’s methods.
Knowing how Elin felt about making a Royal Beast corps, Seimiya was probably concerned that none of the Beasts but Leelan showed any sign of breeding. Perhaps she also wanted to confirm Elin’s true intentions so she could refute point-blank the doubts of her subjects.
Esalu looked at the Royal Beasts napping in the sun. “Lesseh and the others have certainly grown, haven’t they?” she said. The youngest were perched partway up a cliff, their wings spread toward the sun as they warmed their bellies. These were new additions brought to the sanctuary from the wild three years earlier. Of the four, Lesseh and Osseh were males, while Kaseh and Fuseh were females; they were all nearly four years old.
“Do you think they’ll take their mating flight this spring?” Esalu asked. Royal Beasts in the wild matured and began breeding at the age of four, but Nola, Ukalu, and Tohba still hadn’t mated, even though they’d been brought to Kazalumu Sanctuary many years ago and were closer to Leelan in rank. When Leelan came into heat, they became restless, but they didn’t fly and mate. Leelan and Eku were the only mating pair in the sanctuary, and only their offspring increased.
“I wonder what’s stopping them from maturing,” Esalu said. They had raised all the Beasts just as they had raised Leelan. What could be the difference?
Sunk in thought, Esalu and Elin gazed at the Royal Beasts standing on the snowy plain. Far in the distance, the school bell announced the evening hour. The two stirred and looked at each other.
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