The Horse Dreamer

by Marc Secchia

  “Or my ancestors will rise up from their very ashes to slay you,” Sanu whispered hotly.

  “Not minion material?” Illume drew himself up to his full twenty-five feet in stature, looking utterly perplexed. He even raised a paw to scratch loose a dangling scale at his neck for good measure. “You have much to learn, young filly. Why, allow me to elucidate the benefits of a skilled army of compliant – or utterly terrified – domestic helpers such as these fine, if slightly scrawny and underfed, specimens I see ranged before me.”

  “You are shameless and cruel, Illume,” she put in quickly.

  “Ah, I flew all this way just to hear your sweet compliments, little filly.”

  Actually, if she could just bid her gut to stop churning, she might even start to enjoy this exchange. Illume was strutting worse than a conceited parrot. Clearly, she was invited to play along.

  Feeling deliciously wicked, Zara prompted, “What did you say about being folded up, Illume? You seem a picture of draconic good health to me.”

  Stepping around a hut with care, the Blue Dragon loomed over her, his dark eyes wavering between delight and exasperation. “You overstepped your dainty hooves this time, you egregious equine. Ordinarily even I, great and powerful as I am, would have required two further days’ travel to reach this miserable corner of the Obsidian Highlands. There I was, peaceably flapping along minding my own wings and tail –” he frowned fiercely at Sanu as the girl stifled an involuntary giggle “– I say, is that the irresponsible Human louse with whom a Plains Horse with maggots for brains incensed, nauseated and stupefied the hitherto unflappable leaders of the Pegasus Clans?”

  Zaranna swallowed hard. “That would be us, yes. Didn’t know about the … uh, taboo, you see.”

  “Wonderful!” cried Illume, folding his wings with a satisfied air. “Simply smashing! Slap a few more wasps up their collective nostrils, why don’t you?”

  This was good? He approved? Zaranna shook her mane, caught somehow between dismay and stupefaction. How was she supposed to speak for Jesafion now? The Pegasi would burn her on the spot or … accept a claim of amnesia? No, she must not lie. All around her, the Humans had been staring slack-jawed as this interchange proceeded between Dragon and Horse, but now Kesuu turned to face her with his arms folded across his stalwart chest.

  “You didn’t tell me you’d summon a real Dragon!”

  “Summon?” Illume ground his fangs.

  “I appreciate it’s culturally challenging for you to understand when someone tells the literal truth,” Zaranna said acidly, “but yes, he’s real and temperamental and fiery, but really he has the sweetest heart, for a Dragon.”

  “I AM NOT SWEET!” thundered the multi-tonne, fire-stuffed reptile.

  She smiled at him. “Yes, you are. You’re all fluffy-kitten cuteness, aren’t you?”

  What madness possessed her tongue to wag so, she would never know, but it stopped up the Blue Dragon’s words as if she had hammered a massive cork down his throat. He could not physically utter a word. His belly-fires roared, his talons gouged the ground and his lashing tail demolished a swathe of crops, but Illume could not produce so much as a squeak. What he did produce was a great deal of smoke pouring up past his bulging eyes, and the clear impression of an imminent eruption.

  Zaranna added, “My people think it’s humorous to say the opposite of what one means. It’s a game.”

  “A very dangerous game,” said Sanu, peeking up at Illume as if the mere act of looking at him would result in a fireball’s ride into eternity. “So you mean –”

  “He’s the very incarnation of majesty.” A very large, irascible snarl rolled over her. Zaranna opted to backpedal. Hastily. “Anyways, we desperately need the help only Illume can give, so while I’m sorry I folded him sideways or into a pretzel or whatever, I’m very happy he’s here because I believe Illume might be able to help us cross Azoron’s Gorge.”

  Illume cocked his head sideways, snapping, “You’ll have to wait.”

  She asked, “Why, o enormously … uh, Dragon?”

  “Because I hear Darkwolf Clan up above, and smell the foulness of Gryphons on the breeze. Ten seconds. Wings and claws, everyone!”

  Kesuu cursed the sentries, but they must have been ambushed. No, a low whistle sounded from above. Zaranna heard a brief clash of weapons, then an ominous silence.

  Illume said quickly, “These are different Twisted. I sense magic. Beware!”

  Barely had he spoken, when a wing of five black Gryphons plummeted into the gap where the field opened out upon the Gorge, and shot toward the hidden village. Illume exhaled sharply, sounding like the rockets of a large fireworks display bursting forth from their pipes. Hsst! Hsst! Compact fireballs whistled out of his throat, smashing two Gryphons into the rocks; they impacted with dull thuds and the sharp crack of broken bones. The Blue Dragon leaped at the other three, talons outstretched.

  Jesafion had described the ancient enmity between Dragons and Gryphons. Both were aerial predators, both resistant to fire, and each species boasted a variety of magical abilities and attacks. But nothing could have prepared her for the ferocity of that first clash. Shaking the earth with their growls, the heavy Gryphons smashed into Illume without holding back an iota of their strength or ferocity. Each Gryphon’s four thickset legs boasted sturdy talons and as their mouths gaped, gnashing at any part of the Dragon they could reach, they revealed fangs fit to furnish Sabretooth Tigers. But Illume corkscrewed in the air, using his momentum to hurl one of the creatures against the ground at an awkward angle, breaking its wing, while the other two he engaged with fangs and talons. The snarl hurtled back and forth, fur, feathers and scales flying too fast for the eye to follow.

  “Above!” shouted Kesuu, trying to shove Zaranna out of the way. “Get under cover.”

  The Zaranna of a few months before might have turned tail and fled. Not this girl. Not when the scent of wolves was thick in her nostrils, and the memory of Tayburrl’s casual cruelty was fresh enough to give her nightmares. Oh, what would it be to dream normally? Would she ever wish for that again?

  Ropes smacked down around them. Darkwolf Clan rappelled down from above, seemingly immune to the pain of paws smoking visibly at the friction generated as they dropped. Daggers and arrows flashed upward, embedding in dozens of bodies; a few fell, but most carried on regardless. Suddenly Zaranna reared to crack open a skull with her forehooves, then bucked forward in a one-two manoeuvre to belt Sanu’s opponent into the side of a hut.

  “Get away!” The girl whirled past her, slashing both daggers through the neck of a Darkwolf male which was a head taller than her and twice as heavy. Zaranna plunged forward, shouldering the creature aside.

  “Just freaking … die!” Zara heard herself whinny sharply.

  Again her hooves lashed out, instinct driving her, and suddenly they were dashing between burning huts lit by firebrands flung from above and there were Human children swarming a stricken Twisted creature, hacking it to death and she saw a man burning and Illume’s claws whistled through the gloom, plucking up two hapless wolf-men … Zaranna picked off a creature lining Sanu up for a backstab, then charged on to where Kesuu stood beleaguered, facing a knot of slinking wolves – real wolves, for a change. She scattered them with a flurry of flashing hooves and crashing kicks, earning a brief grunt of approbation from the massive Human, danced briefly upon two yelping bodies, then whirled to see Kesuu calmly gutting one opponent before picking up a wolf by the tail and hurling it at another. He pounced upon the stunned pair, his daggers rising and stabbing down with all his strength. Arrows whistled past Zaranna in the gloom.

  “Eyes sharp,” called Sanu, spinning past as fast as the arrows. Zara took care of a wolf Sanu clearly had not noticed.

  “They don’t feel pain!” Kesuu bellowed. “Bring them down and finish them!”

  No pain? And the ability to sneak up on Humans who could smell a disguised Dragon? How many of these were Worafion’s new or upgraded troops, t
he army which was supposed to be ready in three sunspot cycles’ time? Was he growing these beasts beneath his fortress, somewhere?

  She and Sanu slammed into a group of the heavy wolf-men. They moved so much more fluidly than those creatures she and Jesafion had tangled with, so much steadier on their feet, working to protect each other and in twos and threes to bring down the Human warriors. Sanu twisted her weaker knee and fell, but Zaranna immediately leaped over her, driving back a pair of Darkwolf Clan warriors despite their fleeting slashes at her legs. She kicked one brutally where it should hurt most; the creature did not even flinch. But an arrow feathered immediately in its eye.

  She gave the creature a gratuitous kick on the way past. “Learn to die the first time, won’t you?”

  The battle surged back and forth for what felt to her like many long minutes, but when there were suddenly no more furry muzzles and dark, muscular bodies in front of her, Sanu caught up. She was limping heavily, but smiling.

  “Score one for Kesuu’s Tribe. You’re a decent fighter.”

  Goodness, were they safe? “Thanks. You too. Actually, you were awesome. I’ve never seen anyone move like that, tricky knee and all.”

  Kesuu loomed out of the smoke. “Girls –” he glanced at Zaranna “– sorry. No time. We’ve another flight of Gryphons out there, but no more Darkwolf Clan in clear sight. We need to evacuate. Where’s your tame Dragon and how by the Earthen Fires are we supposed to cross that accursed gap?”

  Illume the Stars’ muzzle rose over the nearest hut, sleek and splattered with blood. “One more insult and I’ll burn you all!”

  Zaranna said, “Sorry, Illume. Kesuu’s concerned for his people. And I –”

  “You started it,” Sanu pointed out.

  Great. With friends like her … no time, as Kesuu had said. “Illume, we desperately need a plan to cross those Earthen Fires. If we can get these people to the base of Azoron’s Gorge proper, I’ve clear instructions that will hopefully lead us on to Chentik Vale.”

  “Instructions as clear and workable as the last lot?”

  Zara glared at Sanu. “Now the honesty?”

  Illume said, “What do you need?”

  “A bridge,” said Zaranna. “No, a slide. Something that people won’t fall off.”

  “Is an air tunnel possible?” asked Sanu.

  Illume blinked slowly, the motes deep in his eyes awhirl with thought. “Yes, I think I could. But you’d need to keep the Gryphons away, because working that magic would take all of my strength and concentration.”

  Kesuu scratched his beard. “I could provide archers, but Gryphons are powerful beasts.”

  “We could distract them,” said Zaranna.

  “I know! You and I, Plains Horse.” Sanu bounced on her toes.

  “I’ve a bad feeling I’m about to regret not leaving you for the carrion birds,” the Horse threatened. “Tell me I’m not supposed to trot around in the open, advertising my tasty horseflesh to those monsters?”

  “You’ll need me to protect you.”

  Kesuu’s huge paw descended on Sanu’s shoulder. “No. Once was bad enough, daughter. This has gone too far.”

  The tiny girl only looked sadly up at him. “Father, I would walk through lava for my people. I’m already disgraced for their sake. If this brave soul and I can purchase even a few lives …”

  “We’ll go get the other Tribes,” Zaranna said excitedly. “We’ll call them here. Whoever’s left.”

  “Why not send Tayburrl Darkwolf our personal scroll of invitation?” snorted Kesuu. “Daughter … I think you’re crazier than that Horse.”

  “All this helpfulness, I’m in danger of breaking out in a rash,” Sanu teased.

  Zara retorted, “That’s an honesty rash. Illume?”

  The Dragon nodded regally. “I certainly hope this mood is not catching, Zaranna, because you even have a Dragon helping Humans. I’m convinced the asteroid belt is wobbling violently out there and about to crash down on all our heads.”

  * * * *

  Half an hour later, or some random fraction of a sun-flare in local reckoning, Sanu had four quivers of arrows slung about her person and was mounted up, ready to ride. The sun wavered through the rising fumes of Azoron’s Gorge, appearing like a huge, shimmering orange on the horizon. The mighty rampart of the Obsidian Highlands accepted that warmth greedily. Peeking over the edge just five minutes before, Zaranna had despaired at the distance they meant to travel. The greatest slide in history. Hope the ride was fun. And that the landing four miles below was none too rough.

  Sanu kicked Zaranna’s flanks. “Ride! Go! What am I supposed to say?”

  “How’s about, I’ll bite your foot if you kick me again?”

  “Just remember, when those Gryphons spot us, you’re supposed to look juicy and inviting.”

  The Plains Horse laughed, trotting up the draw which had led them down into the village. “See if you can hold on. I dare you.”

  She of the tasty haunches trotted southward, stretching her legs and wincing a touch as the cuts and bruises on her flanks and legs made themselves felt. She had given a good account of herself in the battle, enough to make a few more of Kesuu’s tribe smile in her direction afterward, but the Darkwolf Clan had not been timid about giving a reckoning in return. Twelve tribe members had not seen the dawn. Many others were injured, for the unfeeling Twisted had fought to the death.

  Sanu limbered up her powerful longbow with its slightly recurved tips. Zaranna was surprised that the slender girl could even draw that weapon, but Sanu was apparently one solid package of sinew – including her personality. She drew the gut string back to her ear with a slight grunt, meantime testing her grip on her mount’s back with her legs and thighs.

  “Straight back,” advised Zaranna. “Knees more forward, a little bent.”

  Gryphons were neither the fastest nor the most agile of flyers, more like bumblebees than hummingbirds. She did not fancy being caught by one, however. Four hooves and a grass-chewing mouth against one of those monsters? Ugly.

  “Alright, they’re off,” Sanu crowed. “First one’s my brother with Elder Tirkuu. The one who likes you.”

  “Likes me?”

  Zaranna had the impression of arms and legs briefly flailing inside a diagonal whirlwind when Sanu hissed, “Eyes on the path!” She stumbled, but recovered. Her rider cried, “Alright. One Gryphon closing in on your friendly Dragon. Hie! Rock lizard! Over here, you ugly bone-chewing piece of boot leather! Closer, Zaranna.”

  “Closer? Do we have to?”

  Her heart hammered as the bird-like head turned toward them. Piercing eyes appraised horse and rider. Perhaps the Gryphon had never seen such a sight, for its wingbeat momentarily stalled, dropping it toward a gully snaking between tumbled rows of black boulders. Zara swerved, bringing them onto an intercept course.

  She called, “Stand half-upright while using your legs to grip, Sanu. That’ll absorb the jolting …”

  “Got it.” She had not, because she missed her first shot by twelve feet over the Gryphon’s crimson-feathered head, but the second shot plugged in its left shoulder. “Ha!”

  The creature screamed and turned. Sanu planted a second arrow in its flank.

  “Retreat?”

  “Don’t swear at me, you stupid animal.”

  “Strategic … regroup?” Her hooves drummed the ground as the Gryphon swept toward them.

  Sanu’s grin was a study in ferocity. “Let’s see if it likes poison. The Smith gave me fresh arrows this morning. New recipe. Distilled the poison from desert madflower for a week. Supposed to be good against Gryphons.”

  This was the time to field-test a new poison? Zaranna wanted to scream, but saved her breath for running.

  That Gryphon seemed to be in the prime of irritable health. Its coal-black wings pumped as it chased after horse and rider. Sanu, with her ridiculous flexibility, twisted her torso one hundred and eighty degrees in the saddle, lining up another shot, when Zaranna spott
ed an injured Darkwolf Clan soldier ahead, lying flat on his back but still aiming some kind of crossbow contraption at her.

  “Hold on!” she shrilled.

  A flying leap took them over the viciously buzzing quarrel; Zaranna jerked as she heard a cry from her other flank, and a wolf-man hiding amongst the rocks stood, waved his arms about as if he were starring in a cartoon, and pitched forward on his face. Magic. Could she pull off that trick again?

  Sanu leaned over, levelled her shaft, and snapped the arm holding the crossbow backward with a fine shot. She yelled, “Lizard-dung, I was aiming at his head!”

  No pleasing some people. The horse shrilled, “Two more Gryphons …”

  A grating cry from behind made Zaranna’s blood freeze, but Sanu shouted in triumph. Next moment, there came a loud crash. “He’s down. Only took three shots!”

  Unsurprisingly, the Gryphon’s friends seemed to find this tactic highly provocative. The Plains Horse swerved again, with Cat-Girl clinging to her back like ivy to a wall. Alright. This could work. She ducked and weaved a little, but remembered Yolanda teaching her about lions catching prey. The shortest distance between two points, unless her Physics class was involved, was a straight line. Take too many corners and she would be dead prey. Sanu yelled that she had struck a Gryphon in the neck. Focussed as never before, the Horse ran up and down ridges and jumped the odd gully. Apparently behaving like kittens chasing string, Gryphons could not resist chasing an enticing hunk of meat bobbing around ahead of them. Three more Greens trailed them from the North while one behind seized up mid-air and dropped like a stone.

  Miss Don’t-Bite-my-Rump eased the pace, blowing hard as she burst past a patch of scrubby, burned bushes and hared down a dry riverbed. These Highlands must be at some serious altitude. Her lungs burned as if she had swallowed Illume’s fire.

  “That way.” The bow pointed past her right ear. “That’s where the trouble is.”

  She panted, “Great. Sort out that Gryphon on our tail, would you?”