The king was right. Why did Talon care what his motives were? If there was really a chance that Talon could help free the Skomm, while at the same time providing them with a new home, he had to take it.
“I will help my father defeat Winterthorn, but only after Akerri has been freed. I believe that your hawk riders will come in quite useful in that regard.”
“Then we have a deal?” the king asked.
“I believe that we do,” said Talon.
Donarron rose from his throne, and everyone in attendance bowed before him. This time, Talon joined them. The king walked down the steps leading from the dais and stood before Talon, extending his hand.
“I look forward to our alliance.”
“As do I,” said Talon, shaking the king’s hand. “Now that we have come to an agreement, may I have my possessions back?”
The king looked from Talon to Han. “Of course,” he said, looking as though he had just thought of something. “I would love to see your spirit wolf!”
Chapter 21
Pissing Match
I see him sailing high above the clouds. He wears a cloak of sky-blue feathers. What are these fevered dreams?
-Gretzen Spiritbone
Talon flew high above Belldon Island, feeling like the most powerful Skomm that ever lived. Han flew overhead and coerced his silver hawk into a dive. Talon spurred Brightwing, and she followed the other hawk in a dive-bomb of the highest tower.
They had been at it for two days. Luckily, Talon took to flying quickly, and Brightwing took to him sooner than Han had ever seen. Or so he said.
The main weapon of the hawk rider was the bow and arrow; which Talon had never shot before. Therefore, Han equipped him with a crossbow, which, while slower to load, was more powerful than a bow.
Talon doubted that he would have much use for either weapon, intending mainly to use the silver hawk to ferry Akerri far away from the dark elf once he had relieved her of the controlling crystal.
The king had offered the help of his silver hawk unit—which turned out to be the most elite fighting force in the Shierdonian army.
Han’s silver hawk landed in the courtyard, and the man dismounted skillfully, handing off the reins to a handler.
“How was that for a ride?” Han yelled through cupped hands as Talon landed.
“Ace!” Talon yelled, beaming.
He slid down Brightwing’s wing and hit the ground with a strut.
“Hah! This one thinks that he’s a natural,” Han said with a laugh.
“Brightwing seems to have taken a liking to me, as you said.”
Han walked with him back to the barracks, where the silver hawk riders had their own small fortress, equipped with a perch for the birds.
“Han?” Talon began, wondering for a moment whether he should mention what was on his mind.
“What is it, lad?”
“Did…did you know that Akerri’s Vald family name was Brightwing?”
Han stopped dead and looked to him as though Talon might be playing a trick on him. “Is that the truth?”
Talon nodded.
“Well,” said Han, looking as though the idea were a marvel one. “It seems as though your stars are in play here. I knew no such thing. That bird was named a good two years ago. I brought it along to ferry you back because her rider died a few months back. Gods bless.”
“What was his name?” Talon asked, not sure if he wanted to know.
“Her name was Orchid. I believe it is derived from an elven flower. Though she was no flower. I’ve never seen a more dedicated or fearless rider.”
A shiver passed down Talon’s spine, and he caught a fleeting sense of a higher power at work. With effort, he shrugged it off.
“How long have the hawk riders been in service to the kingdom?” he asked, hoping to forget his disturbing thoughts.
“Only three years now. It took a long time to find people who could fight, as well as handle the stresses of flying,” said Han, turning to Talon with a smirk. “Not everyone takes to it so easily.”
Talon shrugged. “Perhaps it is because I spent so many days imagining flying away from Volnoss like a bird.”
“Perhaps,” said Han.
He opened the door to the barracks, and they were met with raucous laughter. It looked as though half the hawk riders were in the midst of an intense poker hand.
“Hey, Windwalker, you wanna play?” one of them yelled.
Talon looked to Han, who was getting a better look at the pot.
“Now don’t be pissing away all of your pay,” the general told the men. He turned to Talon. “Do you play?”
“I’ve been known to, mostly in the commons,” said Talon, thinking of Tyson and the others and the one night they shared in comfort at the inn.
“Well then, join in. It isn’t often the boys get a night off, and they tend to throw ‘em back when they do.”
Just then, someone handed Talon what it was they had been “throwing back.” He took a drink and nearly spit it out.
“Wha…what is this stuff?”
“That there be what all the initiates drink. Tastes like dragon piss, eh?” said the young man.
Talon had noticed that most of the hawk riders were in their twenties or younger. All but Han, who Talon figured was at least fifty.
“Name’s Flick,” said the young man, offering a hand.
Talon shook it, noting the firm grip.
“Talon, nice to meet you, Flick.”
“Enjoy yourself,” said Han. “Get to know the other riders. I’ve business to attend to.”
“Thanks, General,” said Flick before putting an arm around Talon’s shoulder and guiding him toward the poker table. “Hey men! Look who decided to join the party.”
The other riders were in between hands, and the one who had been shuffling the cards got up and strode around the table. All eyes watched as he stopped and stood before Talon, sizing him up with a smirk.
The man, whom Talon knew to be Haze, was slightly shorter than Talon. He was muscled and lean, with knotted round shoulders and thick forearms dark with thick hair. A short, well-kempt beard added to his older appearance.
“You think that because you have a magic ring and a ghost wolf, you can just walk in here and become a hawk rider?”
Haze said it with a smile, which confused Talon.
The room went silent as the other riders waited for Talon’s reply.
“I’m not trying to become a hawk rider. I’m just trying to help my people.”
Haze picked his teeth with his tongue and glanced around at the others. “You’re learning to ride a hawk,” he said and looked back at Talon. “Doesn’t that make you a hawk rider?”
“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”
“That’s right, there is a lot more to it than that. We train for years. We have to forge a bond with our birds, but you walk in here and bond with Orchid’s mount in mere days? What kind of dark magic you working here?”
“Dark magic? I’m not—”
Haze produced a dagger so quickly that Talon didn’t know it until it was pressed up against his neck. When the blade pressed against his flesh, Talon became suddenly paralyzed. He tried to back away, but found himself unable to even blink.
A slow smirk crossed Haze’s face. “You’re not the only one with elven weapons. Now, tell me what your game is, or I’ll slit your throat.”
“The Fated Blades are not to be used against other riders…ever!” said one of the riders behind Talon.
“He’s not a rider,” said Haze. “He’s a godsdamned runaway Skomm with one too many toys. He doesn’t deserve them, let alone Orchid’s Hawk!”
Talon summoned Kyrr’s power, letting it build within him before finally releasing it all in a massive attempt to move against the spell blade. He began to tremble and then shake, and Haze’s eyes went wide.
“What are you doing?” he said, pressing the flat end of the blade harder against Talon’s neck.
&n
bsp; Kyrr responded to Talon’s will, breaking the spell over him and giving him back his body. In a flash he had Haze by the wrist and turned it back, before twisting and ripping the blade away with the other hand. Talon pushed off and spun, bringing the blade to bear before Haze’s astonished face.
The riders watched, stunned.
Talon eyed them all slowly before flipping the knife and handing it back to Haze, handle first. “I’m not trying to force myself into your group. And I’ve got no spell over Brightwing.” He squared on Haze, whose eyes darted to the dagger. When Haze took back the dagger, Talon took off his vest and tossed it to the side. He then pulled off his shirt, exposing his dozens of whip marks and other scars. Talon’s body was a collection of scar tissue over lean muscle—a roadmap of pain.
Haze’s eyes widened all the more.
“If you want to have a row then let’s have at it, here and now,” said Talon before pulling the figurine from his pocket and summoning Chief.
Blue light exploded from the figurine, and a snaking smoke wound around Talon twice before coming to form on his right. Chief glowed and sparkled, cocking his head up at Talon and then growling at Haze.
“You with your magic trinkets, and me with mine. I’ll take on every last one of you.”
The riders all took a collective step back, some producing weapons. Others simply stared, eyes glued to Chief, showing both amazement and fear. Talon noticed that one off to his right held a crossbow, and he mentally prepared himself to use Haze as a shield.
“Whoa,” said Haze, holding up empty hands. “You don’t want to do something stupid.”
“You put an enchanted blade to my throat. I think that this is very much an intelligent move,” said Talon, hands inches from the twin daggers on his hips.
It was time for Haze to put up or shut up, and everyone knew it. He gulped, eyes darting around the room, body rigid and unmoving. He licked his dry lips, and his eyes traveled over Talon’s many scars, the daggers on his belt, and finally, Chief.
“Well hells!” Haze said, suddenly bursting with laughter. “Maybe you have the makings of a hawk rider after all!”
There was a short pause, but soon the hawk riders joined their leader in a laugh and sheathed their blades.
Talon relaxed but watched Haze closely, not knowing what to think. Chief stood beside him rigidly. The low growl had stopped, but his hair still stuck straight up along his spine.
Seeing Talon’s reluctance to trust him, Haze reached out a hand. “On my honor. This matter is settled. I apologize for attacking you.”
Talon knew that Haze was saving face, still, he had won the battle of wills, and he found no reason to press the issue further. He shook Haze’s hand, putting a little bit of Kyrr behind the grip, which caused Haze to wince slightly, though the smile never left his face.
“Apology accepted,” said Talon, releasing his hand. “Now how about some shots!”
The riders cheered to that, and Flick tossed Talon his shirt, shaking his head and grinning all the while. Haze headed up the cheer to “the new rider,” and tossed a drink back with vigor. Talon watched him all the while, knowing that it wasn’t over between them.
Chapter 22
On Wings of Silver
Ragnar Spiritbone never lived to see his grandson. He die saving fellow fisherman in bad storm. Some called it Eye of Thodin. When it come back to claim Talon those years later, I curse Thodin for his cruelty, swear he cannot have the boy as well.
-Gretzen Spiritbone
It had been four days since Talon was abducted from the deck of Freedom, and he was eager to fly north and join up with the crew. He assumed that in his absence, Argath had continued with his plan to find McGillus’s buried treasure, to which Talon had given him the coordinates. Han said that it would take the ships seven days to reach northern Shierdon, but Talon worried that they might have traveled much faster, given that they had Zilena with them.
He was eager to get going.
Han instructed him that three other riders would be going with them for the mission: Flick, who had adamantly volunteered; Haze, who was arguably the best rider he had; and Ash, the only dwarven rider.
“How did you all come across magical items?” Talon asked as he loaded Brightwing with supplies.
“We get them from dark elves,” said Han.
Talon stared at him, shocked. “You…you have fought against the dark elves?”
“Indeed. We are Shierdon’s most elite fighting squad. The threat of the dark elves is the very reason for our existence.”
Talon gained newfound respect for the riders and realized what danger he had really been in the night that he almost fought Haze.
“We keep what we find on those dark elves we manage to kill or rob. Then, each rider is given a quest. If he or she completes the quest, they are made a rider, and given their fated weapon.”
“I already had elven magic that I had earned. That’s why you let me in,” said Talon.
Han stopped what he was doing and regarded Talon with interest. “Let you in? I didn’t know that you wished to be a hawk rider beyond this mission.”
“I don’t,” said Talon. “I mean…it would be an honor, but I haven’t thought much about anything more than freeing Akerri and the Skomm. The prospect of becoming a hawk rider is overwhelming.” He studied the general, recognizing slight disappointment in his eyes. “Do you want me to join?”
Han laughed. “Lad, I scour Agora looking for the most skilled warriors she has to offer. That is why you are here. It was I who advised the king on this course of action.”
“Why?”
Again Han laughed. This time, shaking his head as well. “You’re a humble one, aren’t you? I chose you because you are the first Skomm in history to escape Volnoss and start a revolution. Is there anything else to say?” he asked, arms wide.
Talon didn’t know what to say.
“We’ll deal with the problems at hand, and then you will have time to consider the offer. But I will say this. Life as a hawk rider offers excitement, glory, and a good living. You and Akerri could come live with us in the high perch nestled in the northern Ky’Dren Mountains. You could even have a family.”
Han watched him and smiled kindly when Talon let out an overwhelming sigh.
“Keep it in the back of your mind, as I said,” Han told him.
“I will. Thank you, General Ford.”
“Thank me if we all get out of this alive,” said the general. He turned from Talon and cupped his hands over his mouth. “Mount up!”
Haze, Flick, and Ash climbed up onto their saddles and took the reins in hand. Talon mounted Brightwing as well, and on Han’s command, they took to the sky to the cheers of the other riders.
Brightwing followed the lead of the other silver hawks, and though Talon held the reins, he hardly used them, trusting that she could steer them better than him. They flew north over Lake Eardon, and soon were flying over farms and valleys, following the road toward the coast. Given the nature of the mission, the silver hawks had changed their naturally luminescent silver feathers to sky blue, which caused them to blend flawlessly with the clear sky. Talon marveled at the way that his cloak took on the same colors as Brightwing. With such camouflage at his disposal, Talon would be able to infiltrate Volnoss virtually invisible.
He thought of the coming battle as he flew, and a slow dread began to replace his former excitement. Soon he would have to face Fylkin, and worse yet, if he was to go along with King Donarron’s plan, he would have to face Kreal as well. Talon didn’t know which man he feared more. Indeed, the prospect of fighting Fylkin to the death was less terrifying than standing before the man who had wanted to kill him at birth.
Talon had wondered what it might have been like had his mother not gotten sick with the frozen plague. If she had gone to term with him, he might have grown into a tall Vald and passed the measure. He would have had a family and would have made his father proud.
But I would also be a big
ot, just another Vald stomping around making the Skomm’s lives terrible.
Talon realized then that he would rather accept his lot in life rather than change who he was. His amma’s words had been true all along: he was destined to do great things. Why else would a magic ring, a spirit wolf, and a silver hawk find their way into his possession?
The rest of the flight, Talon thought only of his fortune. He had met and fallen in love with the most beautiful girl on Volnoss. He had found a good friend in Jahsin. Even his time with Tyson and the others he cherished. And there was his amma and Azzeal, both of whom had given him so much at their own expense. Talon thought of Forrest, and his new friends, Crag, Argath, Torrance, and even the insane Gill-Gammond.
Now he was flying upon a silver hawk.
Talon had many things to be thankful for, and the weight of his gratitude brought tears to his eyes.
The blazing afternoon sun gave way to clouds and a darkening sky. The air was still mild high above the clouds, but they had been flying for many hours, and a chill had begun to creep into Talon’s bones from the constant buffeting wind.
He had told Argath the coordinates to Captain McGillus’s loot and hoped to meet up with them there. It had been nearly a week since he was taken from the ship, and if Han was right, the two ships should be reaching the location by nightfall—that is, if they hadn’t diverted from the plan.
They reached the northern coast as the shadows of tall trees began to stretch long across the land. Han signaled to the others, and though Talon wasn’t sure what it meant, Brightwing followed the others and fell into position on her own. From their high vantage point, they could see many miles north into the heart of the Strait of Shierdon, and while there were tiny ships sailing below, none of them turned out to be Freedom or Redemption.
Han steered them back to the coast, and they followed it west for nearly an hour. By the time they landed, the sun had set and the stars shone behind scattered clouds.
Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) Page 11