So Rahkki nodded at Tuni, committing himself to the lie, and kept walking. As he disappeared into the barn, his clan erupted into speculative whispering. Rahkki’s neck flushed, and he felt silly as his sapling legend sprouted a new branch behind him.
24
Hero
RAHKKI LED SULA INTO THE ARMORY AND removed their shields and breastplates, her flank plates, their helmets, and his arm and calf guards. His body was still shaking, and his breaths came fast and shallow. Once the armor was off, Rahkki felt a hundred times lighter. It wouldn’t be too heavy once he was used to it, but that would take time. Sula nickered at him, seeming happy to be free of the metal also.
Once they’d both caught their breath, Rahkki led Sula outside to rinse her sweat-streaked hide. Then he returned her to her stall and added an extra scoop of grain to her feeder. “You rest and eat,” he said. “We leave with the armies in the morning.”
The mare tossed her sparkling white mane and his heart swelled. Sula was a good Flier; she hadn’t abandoned him to the dragon. He patted his torn satchel. The weight of the coins inside meant he could afford to keep her for as long as it took to save her friends. Rahkki took his first deep breath since he’d won her.
As he returned to the armory, Rahkki’s thoughts switched to I’Lenna. Lilliam had witnessed her daughter blasting out of the jungle, screaming for help. Then Rahkki had emerged right behind her, chased by a dragon. Trust me, I’Lenna had said on their way to the trading post. If I’m caught with you again, I’ll be the one who pays. He wondered how the queen would punish her eldest daughter for their latest forbidden adventure.
Sighing with pain, Rahkki cleaned and buffed his and Sula’s new armor with quick strokes of a cloth. Both sets were dented and scuffed. The dragon’s claw had etched four long stripes down Rahkki’s breastplate, disrupting the intricate engravings. Already the armor had saved his life.
Once everything was clean, Rahkki packed it neatly into the trunk that Harak had assigned to him. Then, using a needle and sinew kept on hand for the Riders to repair their belts and scabbards, Rahkki sewed the strap back onto his torn satchel.
Next Rahkki visited the small supply shed located inside the Ruk. The giants had burned down the larger one once used by the Sky Guard. He found Koko inside, rubbing her temple as she tallied the bales. “Ay, Stormrunner,” she greeted. “Wha’s all the fuss ou’ there?”
“Granak was in the woods,” he explained, deciding not to elaborate on the details. “But he’s gone now.”
Koko nodded. “So, wha’ yuh want?”
“I need some things for Sula and Kol.”
Rahkki placed an order for sixty bales of hay—thirty for Sula and thirty for Kol. He also ordered twenty sacks of grain and six packets of Flush, a medicine that killed parasites and worms in Kihlari steeds and horses. His brother’s chestnut stallion had been raised on Flush, but Sula had not, so he didn’t buy any for her. Rahkki guessed that her body naturally killed parasites.
The boy opened his satchel. “How much?”
Koko blew her hair out of her face and leaned against the wall. “Hol’ up, Stormrunner, I gotta figure it.”
He sat on a hay bale and waited.
The girl’s tongue poked between her teeth as she leaned over her parchment. Koko could clean armor, trim hooves, sharpen weapons, stitch leather, handle the most ferocious Kihlari—and their equally ferocious Riders—with misleading ease; but when it came to figuring sums, she struggled to write the calculations. Much simpler ta do it in my ’ead, she’d told him once. But the queen required paper receipts.
Finally, Koko finished, tore off a parchment, and slapped it onto Rahkki’s palm. “The total’s righ’,” she said as if he’d question it.
Rahkki glanced at the price and hid his shock—ninety-one dramals! But he didn’t doubt its accuracy. Kihlari were expensive; it was the sole reason why so few Sandwens could afford them. Rahkki handed over a single gold round and received nine dramals in change. Between the armor, the feed, and the gifts and boots he’d purchased, the bloodborn prince had spent a small fortune in one day, but he still had a small fortune left—one round and thirty-nine dramals, which he’d save until he needed to order hay again.
He exhaled, comforted by the weight of the remaining coins. For now, his future was secure. He could reimburse Brim and Ossi for Brauk’s care, and feed Sula and Kol during the coming monsoon rains. Rahkki placed his change at the bottom of his satchel and mumbled a thank-you to Koko.
Exiting the supply barn, he smacked into the hard body of a white winged mare. A royal guard sat astride her and, behind them, rode Queen Lilliam aboard her blood-bay stallion, Mahrsan. Rahkki quickly scanned the area. They were alone, out of sight of others. His gut tightened.
“My queen,” he said to Lilliam, dipping his head.
She was dressed in soft brown leggings and a white tunic that flowed around her pregnant belly. Her dark hair hung loose but heavy with adornments: Mahrsan’s feathers, sparkling gems, and shells from the east. A choker made of sea pearls circled her neck, tiny painted bones pierced her ears, and jewel-encrusted anklets jingled each time she kicked her flying steed. Rahkki guessed that Lilliam had traded heavily with the other clans during the recent Clan Gathering.
Now she urged Mahrsan closer to Rahkki. Her eyes bored into his, as piercing as the bones that lanced her earlobes. “I want to know exactly how you tamed that dragon?”
“I didn’t tame him, my queen.”
“Don’t quibble with me, Stormrunner. Granak obeyed your command. How? Why?” She grimaced suddenly, her hand flying to her extended belly.
Rahkki kept his expression blank, but his brow dampened as he began to worry. Which was more hazardous to him: the truth or the lie?
Lilliam curved her lips, showing her teeth. “I saw what I saw. You commanded the Fifth Clan mascot. If you hold his favor, then you’re invincible, Stormrunner.”
Invincible! Rahkki had claimed no such thing.
“And you saved my daughter’s life in the jungle.” She raked her eyes across his small body. “I owe you for that.”
“You don’t owe me, my queen,” Rahkki said. His voice cracked on the word queen.
Lilliam laughed, deep and throaty. “You’re as humble and unambitious as my crown princess—two bloodborns who want nothing more from life than to eat candy and fly pretty horses.” She circled him, and Mahrsan’s sapphire wings grazed Rahkki’s cheek. Lilliam continued. “Allow me to glorify you, my humble prince.”
Rahkki braced himself—no reward from Lilliam could be good for him.
“Tomorrow we ride out to slay those nasty giants once and for all, and I want you on the front line. You and your mare will lead the charge from the ground.” The queen winced as another pain seized her stomach.
“The ground?” he sputtered. “But I’m a Rider?”
Lilliam continued, “You’re a hero, Stormrunner, and so I’m offering you the more honored position of Battle Mage, leader of the front lines. You will be the first to fight. You and your wild braya will inspire my soldiers.”
Rahkki blanched. The Fifth Clan hadn’t utilized a Battle Mage in centuries. Mages were specially trained soldiers, educated in magic, warfare, and strategy. Daakur employed them in their armies, but the Sandwen clans held a sour view of magic and had done away with the practice. “But I’m not a Battle Mage. I’m not trained for that,” Rahkki said. He wasn’t trained as a Rider either, but he knew better than to mention it.
Lilliam ran her tongue across her lower lip and smirked at him. “You’re not trained for anything, are you? But you’re a natural mage—Rahkki the Commander of Dragons. My army will follow you to their deaths. You’re that incredible.”
Rahkki felt the blood drain from his face. Battle Mage was the most dangerous position in any army. He and Sula would face the Gorlan hordes, their elephants, and their saber cats first and up close, with all military support behind them and the Sky Guard army high above them. Rahkki k
new exactly what Lilliam was doing. She was trying to get him killed, and fast.
“Do you have something to say, Stormrunner?” the queen asked.
He was about to tell the truth, that he’d commanded no dragons, but then he saw it again, the flash of real fear in her eyes. Lilliam had treated him worse than a dog since he was four years old, but now that had changed. He had her on her back foot, and she was desperate. She’d kill him eventually anyway, he thought, remembering the time her Borla had refused to treat his injuries, just days before the auction.
But her fear had put her on the defensive and now was not the time to show weakness. Now was the time to press harder. The thought made him grin, and he probably looked crazy when he answered. “I’d be honored to lead the armies as your Battle Mage, my queen.”
She narrowed her eyes.
He smiled wider and dipped his head as though she’d just granted him a wish.
Lilliam grunted and tugged on her left rein, turning Mahrsan away. “The Fifth Clan marches tomorrow. Report to General Tsun at dawn, before the last morning bell rings. If you fail to appear, you will be arrested for desertion.”
She thinks I’ll run away, he realized, but continued smiling. “Yes, my queen.”
Lilliam and Mahrsan sped toward the clouds, and her mounted guard lifted off and joined her. She rode Mahrsan in a hunched position, and Rahkki guessed her child would soon be born.
In the past, a run-in with Lilliam would have scared him. But today it wasn’t fear that welled within Rahkki but anger, hot and unexpected. It gushed through him like a rain-full river. He clenched his fists, battling back the urge to find General Tsun and commit the Stormrunner name to the rebellion.
Instead he closed his eyes. The hatred blasting through him felt like power, but false power. The rage would control him if he let it, like it controlled his brother, and that wasn’t good for Rahkki or anyone else. He drew deep breaths until the hot feelings passed. Then he headed to the room he’d once shared with Brauk to prepare for tomorrow’s march. As he climbed the circling stone stairs, Rahkki knew that his short time with Sula was coming to an end. Win or lose, after this battle with the giants, she would leave him. He pushed open his bedroom door, feeling suddenly exhausted and sad.
As he walked in, a voice from the corner startled him. “I didn’t know you could talk to dragons.”
25
The Idea
RAHKKI WHIPPED AROUND TO SEE PRINCESS I’Lenna rocking back and forth on his dressing chair, holding the birthday gift he’d purchased at the trading post in her lap. She’d lighted his oil lamps, and laid a small feast on his wooden table. He slammed his door and locked it. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “I saw your mom drag you off the wall.”
I’Lenna wiped the dust off her breeches, laughing. “My mother fined me. I have to pay her fifty dramals, which is silly because she pays me fifty dramals each high moon as an allowance. Basically, I don’t get paid this month.” I’Lenna shook her head and shrugged.
“You’re not afraid of your mother at all, are you?” Rahkki said. I’Lenna’s left ear was still bright red where the queen had grabbed it earlier.
“Ah, Rahkki, that’s not true,” she answered, flashing him a thin smile.
Rahkki sat at his table and stared at the food I’Lenna had brought, not feeling hungry at all.
The princess leaned closer, her eyes shining. “I can’t believe you stood up to Granak! You should be dead.”
He noticed she’d changed into solid black riding pants and a smooth dark vest, the leather custom fitted to her thin frame. Her dagger hung from a sheath belted around her waist, her long hair was tied back in a high ponytail, and she wore iron-toed black boots. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
“Yes, but don’t change the subject. How did you talk to that dragon, and why didn’t you do it sooner? Firo got hurt, you know. Why did you let it chase us if you knew you could stop it?”
“How is Firo?” he asked, remembering that the roan mare had fallen and hurt her wing.
“She’s bruised but recovering,” I’Lenna said. “Now stop avoiding my question.” She peered into his eyes. “Did you use magic?”
“No.” He laughed. “I don’t believe in magic.”
“I do,” she said.
“That’s because you can afford it—I can’t.” He was referring to the questionable business of trading coin for enchantments that was common in Daakur. “Anyway, I didn’t use magic. It was the hot pepper I bought at the trading post, the gift for my uncle. I threw it into Granak’s mouth.”
I’Lenna squealed and covered her lips. “He didn’t like that!”
Rahkki grinned. “No, he didn’t.”
When her chuckles subsided, I’Lenna held up the wrapped present. “May I open my gift?”
Rahkki flushed. “Yeah, whenever you want.”
She drew her chair closer to him, her hands trembling as she tore the thin paper. She opened the package and stared at the object within, her mouth wide.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“You got me a book,” she whispered. She turned the gift over in her hands and then flipped the pages.
He nodded. “You read Talu, don’t you? You speak it so well, I just thought—”
I’Lenna smiled. “I do, and this copy is illustrated. It’s beautiful, Rahkki.”
“It’s about the first Kihlari who landed here four hundred years ago. But it’s a Daakuran version of our story, so probably all wrong.”
She laughed. “The Daakurans always flub our tales. Did you read it?”
He shook his head. “I can’t read Talu.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. I’Lenna knew so much more than he did, and it struck Rahkki that when he’d lost his mother, he’d also lost his education. He sighed. “Happy late birthday.”
“Thank you.” I’Lenna hugged the book to her chest and then slid it into her bag.
They started eating, and as they piled their plates, Rahkki pointed out I’Lenna’s thick leather vest, dark breeches, and dagger. “So . . . ,” he said, “you’re dressed to kill.”
I’Lenna laughed so hard that the rice milk she’d been drinking spurted out of her nose. “I’m dressed to blend,” she corrected. “I’m going to the village for a while, you know, to hang out with the regular kids. The dagger is . . . just in case.”
“That sounds nice,” Rahkki said with a hearty exhale.
“What’s wrong?” I’Lenna asked.
Rahkki repeated his earlier conversation with the queen.
“The front lines!” I’Lenna cried. “But you’re a Rider, not a Battle Mage. Fly away. Just go. You have Sula; you can make good time if you leave right now.” She stood and paced.
“No, I want to help Sula free her friends. I’m not much of a fighter, I’Lenna. I probably wouldn’t be any safer in the sky.”
The coming battle still didn’t feel real to Rahkki, more like a game. If only he could throw hot pepper at the giants and the elephants—if only he could help Sula without killing anything. Then an idea struck Rahkki—an idea so simple that it just might work! He tugged on I’Lenna’s belt. “Will you sneak me out of my room?”
She grinned. “Can a bat see in the dark?”
“Actually, they—”
I’Lenna smacked his arm. “Of course I will, I am at your service, Commander of Dragons and Battle Mage—have I forgotten something?”
“Thrower of Hot Pepper?”
“Right,” she said. “And Saver of Princesses too.” I’Lenna bowed to him, and they burst into giggles. She strode to the fireplace, blocked his view, and then there was a soft click as she pushed open the hidden door.
Rahkki ran forward. “Land to skies, I’Lenna. I’ve studied every inch of that fireplace. There’s no latch, no hook, no weakness. There’s no way to open it. Are you using magic?”
I’Lenna laughed, delighted. “Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it magical.”<
br />
“Right,” he said, appearing doubtful. “Give me just a minute.” Rahkki emptied a waterskin bag he would need for his plan, retrieved a candle and lit it, then followed the princess into the darkness.
Must and mold spores filled Rahkki’s nostrils as they silently traveled through the maze of tunnels. The walls leaked water. Moss, cool and spongy, slicked the hard floor.
As the tunnel angled downward, Rahkki shifted his weight so he wouldn’t slide into I’Lenna. Soon came the sound of rushing water as they rounded a bend. They were in the deep belly of Fort Prowl now. Here the lower tunnels collected rainwater and expelled it through a series of grates.
Rahkki recognized the table and chairs he’d spotted his first time in the tunnels. Fresh fruit rinds littered the floor, but the writing parchments were gone. It appeared that people met here, perhaps dangerous people. He glanced at the back of I’Lenna’s head, remembering how she’d shoved him away from the table last time. A second look at her dark outfit and dagger made him wonder, was she really heading to the village to play? He shook his head; it wasn’t his business.
“Come on, keep walking,” I’Lenna urged. They stepped into the flowing water and waded knee-deep the rest of the way.
When they reached the grate, I’Lenna unlocked it. They emerged from the fortress near the jungle’s edge. Warm winds struck Rahkki, flipping up his dark hair. Overhead, the sky was indigo black, star spotted, and layered in drifting clouds. Fractured warbles, chirps, and screams emitted from the forest canopy beyond. “Thanks for getting me outside,” Rahkki said.
“Any time.” I’Lenna glanced at the culvert. “I’m leaving the drainage grate open, but be back before midnight. It’s very important you aren’t late. Do you promise me?”
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