Rider's Rescue (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 2)

by Alessandra Clarke

  She took the grandmothers and grandfathers. The artists and crafters.

  And finally, the Riders, some from each tribe until only twenty remained with K'lrsa and Badru. As they waited for Vedhe to return one last time, K'lrsa peered into the brightening pre-dawn sky and wondered if it was too late.

  And, if it was, should they run? Out into the desert to wait for night to fall once more?

  Or fight their way through, using surprise to overwhelm their enemy?

  If they ran, there might not be enough votes. If they fought, they might die.

  Vedhe and Kriger appeared, Vedhe slumped in the saddle. Kriger stumbled as his feet caught on the flat ground.

  K'lrsa rode Fallion closer. "Are you okay? Can we make it through in time?"

  Vedhe nodded. She forced herself to sit up and address the remaining Riders. "You lost. You stay. I find you," she sighed.

  They nodded. Everyone knew the rules by now.

  Vedhe turned Kriger and led the way first to the right, then left, then left, then left. Badru rode in the middle, K'lrsa at the end, Riders between them.

  As she stepped into that gray nothingness once more, K'lrsa thought she saw the sun color the horizon.

  They'd made it only just in time.

  Chapter 51

  Fallion walked through the gloom, unerring in his confidence as they twisted and turned their way towards safety. K'lrsa slumped forward, too tired to keep her eyes open, a slight smile on her face.

  They'd done it. They'd made it through.

  They'd brought everyone to safety in one night.

  The gods truly were on their side, even the Trickster.

  The man in front of her stopped abruptly and Fallion lurched to a halt, almost stepping on him.

  "What is it? What's happened?"

  Had the Trickster returned? Where was he? She couldn't see anything through the cloying gray fog that surrounded them except for the vague outline of the man stopped ahead.

  The muffled sound of words carried up and down the line. Finally, the man in front of her turned so she could see his face. "D'vil says he lost sight of the man in front of him, so he stopped. We have to wait for the scarred one to come back for us."

  "Wait?" But the sun had already risen. Vedhe couldn't come back for them. Not until the sun set again.

  She shivered as the fog gathered round, creeping through her clothes, pressing its chill tendrils against her skin and tangling in her hair.

  "Oh you poor thing." The Trickster laughed from somewhere to her right. "Are you lost? Stranded here in my world?"

  He pinched her.

  She slapped at his hand, catching him with a hard blow.

  "Oh ho. That wasn't very nice, K'lrsa dan V'na. Do you think your pretty little horse can save you from me?" he sneered.

  He pinched her again and she flinched as she saw the man in front of her grip his reins tight, his eyes wide with fear.

  The Trickster must have pinched Fallion, because he reared, almost throwing her off his back, biting at the air with his teeth.

  She leaned forward, stroking his neck. "Calm, micora. Calm. Don't let him get to you."

  She heard the Trickster move up and down the line, taunting and pinching. The muffled shouts and cries echoed back to her.

  They couldn't survive this. Not for a day. Someone would break and run.

  "Stay calm," she shouted. "Stay where you are. Don't let him scare you."

  But the sounds of panic were rising, the shouts growing more frantic.

  They couldn't wait until night. They just couldn't.

  What happened when the Trickster grew bored of pinches and slaps?

  What happened when one of the Riders tried to run?

  When she tried to run?

  The fog shoved its way down her throat, blanketed her eyes. She couldn't do it. She couldn't spend another moment like this.

  She leaned low over Fallion's neck, something Herin had said about the horses prickling in her mind. If Kriger was sent by the Trickster, then…Then maybe Fallion was sent by Father Sun. "Micora, somewhere out there the sun is shining. Can you…Can you use it? To banish this fog? Can you shine like you do when you fly?"

  She waited, not daring to breathe, hoping she was right as the sounds of panicked men and horses continued.

  At first, nothing happened. The fog was as cold and oppressive as ever.

  But then, slowly, Fallion started to glow. First, he shone like dawn's gentle golden light. And then brighter like the sun as it just starts to appear, its tentative rays reaching for the sky. And finally like the sun at midday, full and bright and clear, blinding in its brilliance.

  The fog tried to fight back, to thicken and attack, but he shone brighter still, like the light of a hundred suns. A thousands suns.

  K'lrsa closed her eyes, crying out in pain.

  Slowly, the light faded to something gentler.

  A man laughed.

  She opened her eyes.

  They were in the land of the moon dream. She recognized the rolling desert dunes, the clear air and too-blue sky.

  It was early morning, the sun barely risen.

  Fallion was once more just a normal golden horse. The fog was gone.

  Four men on horses before her, still in a line.

  "What now?" the closest one asked. They were all looking to her.

  "Good question," she answered.

  One of the men, grizzled with age, suggested they ride towards the distant mountains, figuring that eventually they'd leave the desert and could find their way to the gathering grounds from there.

  The others agreed, deferring to his judgement.

  "Wait." K'lrsa swallowed heavily as they all stared at her, clearly surprised that she would try to command them.

  The one who'd taken charge crossed his arms. "What?"

  She licked her lips as they glared at her. "This isn't our world. We're still on the Trickster's path. The fog is gone, but this isn't our desert. We're in the land of the moon dream."

  The man laughed. "The land of the moon dream?" He shook his head and turned away.

  "You would've said the same about flying horses a few days ago. Or about walking a twisted path through fog to bypass your enemies. And yet, here we are."

  The man turned back to her. "So what do you suggest we do? Sit here and let the sun bake us to death?"

  "No." She chewed on her lip as she tried to figure out what to do.

  She thought for a moment of calling for Father Sun and asking his help, but then she remembered eyes that burned like banked coals and the way he'd sent her to Toreem without warning or preparation.

  He wasn't one to lead lost strays to safety.

  Not even the Trickster had done that.

  It had been Vedhe.

  Vedhe and Kriger.

  Which meant…

  She leaned low over Fallion's neck and whispered in his ear. "We need to reach the gathering grounds, Fallion. Where Midnight and Kriger are. Can you find them? Can you lead us there? All of us?"

  He bowed his head, his golden mane sparkling in the sunlight, but he didn't move.

  He pawed the ground and sniffed the air.

  He shook his head and whinnied softly.

  And then he nudged the horse before him to the side. And the next horse and the next horse until they were at the front of the line next to where D'vil had stopped.

  Once more, he pawed the ground and sniffed the air. K'lrsa sat on his back, tensed, waiting for one of the men to laugh, but none did.

  Finally, Fallion took a tentative step forward.

  "Follow us," K'lrsa called as Fallion took another small step and another.

  She didn't turn to see if the men were following. Either they were or they weren't. She just hoped Fallion was able to lead them to safety.

  He stopped often to sniff the air or paw at the ground. And he changed direction often, sometimes seeming to double-back on their path. But K'lrsa didn't question him or stop him.

&nbs
p; She trusted him.

  They continued on until the sun was almost at midday and then Fallion turned right, then left, then left, then left, and they stepped into the center of the gathering grounds.

  They were on the stone platform, surrounded by all of the tribes who'd gathered for the initial convocation.

  A wall of sound battered them. Some cried out in joy, some in anger.

  Badru raced towards her, his arms thrown wide, smiling a smile so large it was a wonder it didn't split his face in two. A young woman with a baby clutched to her breast was right behind him, running towards one of the men.

  Row upon row of Black Horse Tribe members glared at them from their side of the dais, muttering and pointing.

  A man at the back of the crowd aimed an arrow at her. She watched, frozen, as he pulled his bow taut and then released.

  As Badru came closer, the arrow spun through the air.

  Time slowed.

  She could see each and every revolution of the arrow, but was powerless to stop it.

  And then, just as Badru reached her and it seemed the arrow would bury itself in his back, it was gone.

  Those who'd seen what the man did, drew back in fear, muttering and shouting about dark magics.

  She slid off Fallion’s back and Badru hugged her, pulling her close, whispering how glad he was to see her.

  But K'lrsa didn't care about that or about the man and his bow.

  Because there, in the midst of the Black Horse Tribe, was F'lia, the friend she'd thought was dead.

  Chapter 52

  The shouting crowd, Badru trying to pull her back, none of it mattered.

  All she cared about was F'lia. Her best friend. A girl who'd always shone like the sun. Someone so gentle and happy and pure that she couldn't imagine her capable of murder or plotting to betray her own people.

  But there she was. In the midst of the Black Horse Tribe.

  And her face was mottled with rage, her lips twisted into a sneer that made her uglier than anyone K'lrsa had ever seen.

  K'lrsa pushed her way through the crowd, shoving aside men and women who glared at her as she went.

  She stopped in front of F'lia, unable to breathe all of a sudden, so many conflicting emotions pushing against one another that she felt like she'd burst. Joy that her friend was still alive. Anger that she was here, with these people. Fear that she'd been wrong about her friend all along, that the beautiful surface hid a heart as black as night.

  "You're alive," she finally managed, the joy winning out over the anger and fear.

  "So are you." F'lia's jaw worked as she glared at K'lrsa. "Where were you?"

  "I went to the Daliphate. To…To avenge my father. I thought the Daliph had killed him."

  F'lia's eyes filled with tears as she stared at K'lrsa. "My mother said you found L'ral. That he's dead."

  "Yes. Didn't you…" But no. No one had found her message. Her mother had only known about her father's death because of her moon stone and his sun stone, but L'ral and F'lia didn't have that. "So this whole time…?"

  She looked away. "I thought he'd left me."

  "Left you? You were his world."

  She shrugged, tears rolling down her cheeks. "It was different after he became a Rider. We spent less time together. And that last year he'd become sort of angry all the time."

  "He had?" Why hadn't she noticed?

  F'lia shrugged. "You weren't around much to see it. You were always off with Fallion, hunting, or traveling to the other tribes with your dad. You didn't see how he'd changed." She blushed. "I actually thought, that maybe the two of you…"

  "Had what? Run away together? After I killed my father, I suppose?"

  "No! I knew you hadn't. I mean, I knew if what your mother said was true that there had to be a reason for it. That something must've happened."

  K'lrsa felt a weight lift off her shoulders. At least someone she'd known and trusted had believed in her.

  Somewhat.

  "So why did you leave the tribe? They thought you were dead."

  She shook her head. "I don't know. I was angry. And sad. And I…I was going to give myself to the sands. You and L'ral were gone and I didn't know what else to do. I felt so betrayed. But…Then I decided to try and find you guys."

  "You left with nothing. Why didn't you just go back?"

  She shook her head. "I didn't want to. I couldn't. I ran into J'vin. I wasn't sure what he was doing so far from his lands, but he offered to take me back to his tribe, to give me shelter."

  K'lrsa glanced to where a tall dark-haired man at least as old as D'lan stood watching them with brilliant green eyes. "And?"

  F'lia shrugged, but wouldn't meet her eyes.

  "F'lia?"

  "I was angry. And hurt."

  "And? Now?"

  She ran a hand over her swelling belly.

  "You're pregnant?"

  F'lia nodded, a slight smile on her face.

  "Oh, F'lia, that's so great! Congratulations!" K'lrsa hugged her, careful not to press too hard. "Does your mother know?"

  She shrugged one shoulder and nodded slightly.

  "Oh, this is so wonderful."

  F'lia wouldn't quite meet K'lrsa's eyes. "J'vin wants me to marry him."

  K'lrsa glanced at the man again. He seemed too cold, too intense for her friend. "You don't have to, you know."

  "I know. But…"

  "F'lia. You're a talented artist. And beautiful. Any tribe would welcome you. If you don't want to go back to the White Horse Tribe, find another. You don't have to marry this man just because he wants you to."

  "He is the father. And he…" She leaned closer. "He says the only way my baby will be safe is if we're with his tribe. K'lrsa…" She looked around, her eyes wide with fear.

  "I know. That's why I came back. He's wrong. We'll defeat them. And when we do, you'll come back to us?"

  F'lia bit her lip with a sideways glance at J'vin, but nodded.

  "Good. Now I better go." She hugged F'lia one last time. "I'm glad you're alive."

  "Me, too. That you're alive, I mean."

  They both laughed and for one more moment K'lrsa was able to forget why they were all there, but then she had to push her way back through the unfriendly faces of the Black Horse Tribe and into the midst of the scared faces of her own tribe.

  She stopped at the base of the dais next to Badru and D'lan and turned to face the enemy.

  It was time. Time to see if they'd done enough to save the tribes or if F'lia's lover was right and the only safe place to be was with the Black Horse Tribe.

  Chapter 53

  The wise woman of the Black Horse Tribe stepped to the middle of the dais and raised her arms for silence. Her tribe responded, but none of the others did. Some even started talking louder just to make their point.

  But then the wise man from the White Horse Tribe joined her.

  And the wise men and women from the other four tribes.

  Together, united, they raised their arms for silence.

  This time the seething mass of people obeyed, turning to watch, their silence a living, breathing thing fraught with anticipation.

  In unison, the six wise ones invoked the Lady Moon as they did every annual gathering. They called on her for peace, protection, and prosperity. Next they invoked Father Sun, asking for his mercy and thanking him for his warmth during the cold times. And they invoked the Trickster, begging him to continue to lead their enemies astray, leaving unspoken their wish that he spare the tribes his tricks.

  It was the same invocation as every year. Just so many meaningless words. As always, the wise ones completed the invocation with a bow towards the back of the dais, a space where none were allowed to stand. The space K'lrsa and the others had stepped out of just a short while before.

  Never before had anything happened.

  But this time it did.

  A silvery moon beam shone from the back of the dais. The wise ones backed away and the crowd leaned forward as it grew
wider, filling the empty space, and, then, out of the ray of light stepped a woman so graceful and beautiful that none could look away.

  K'lrsa recognized her at once. It was the Lady Moon. Her features didn't ripple like in the moon dream, but K'lrsa recognized her nonetheless. She was in the guise of the matron—old enough to be wise, but young enough to be alluring.

  "Go, my children." The Lady gestured for the wise ones to return to the crowd.

  They stumbled down the dais, into the midst of the equally surprised members of the tribes.

  The Lady stepped to the center of the dais and studied the crowd. "As you do every year, you have gathered here, members of the tribes, to exchange news, to see friends, to make plans for the new year, to renew the bonds that hold you together as one people with one purpose." Her voice chimed, as beautiful as she was, reaching the far edges of the crowd.

  Most stared at her rapt, but a man near the base of the steps in the Black Horse Tribe section sniggered.

  The Lady turned her depthless gaze upon him and he quailed before her, shrinking back through the crowd until he was on the outer fringe.

  She smiled slightly as she turned back to the crowd. "Unfortunately, as that man and the hearts of many of you here today show, you are no longer unified in a single purpose. Four-hundred years ago my husband, my son, and I brought you together. We gave you a home. We promised you protection. In return we asked for one thing—that you protect the Hidden City and keep the desert safe from those who would exploit it."

  The crowd was absolutely silent. Not even the babies held in their mother's arms moved or squirmed.

  She turned towards the Black Horse Tribe. "There are some among you who don't believe in us anymore. Who would turn away from the sacred trust we gave you. Who would lead strangers across the desert for profit."

  "And why not?" A man stepped forward from their midst, tall and strong and fierce. "Why not trade with our neighbors? They gave me the medicine that saved my wife's life. What have you ever given me?"