Tak swooped up to the rafters and chortled at them.
Rahkki paced. “I need to find the team General Tsun assigned to me on Mount Crim—Mut, Koko, Jul, and Tam. If I’m going to find my brother, I’ll need help. Can you get a message to them?”
Brim frowned. “Mut and Tam were with I’Lenna,” she said. “Koko and Jul are still around, but do you think you can trust them, Rahkki? Remember, Harak is offering a full round for your capture.”
A smile crossed his face as he remembered scouting giants with his team. “Yeah, I can trust them. Anyway, I’ve got no one else. I mean, beside you and Tak.” He shrugged and she smiled. “Ask them to bring camping gear, a few days’ supply of food, and some horses. My brother won’t be easy to find.”
“Koko is at the stable,” Brim said. “I’ll give her your message and she can fetch Jul. I’ll collect some old warhorses for you to ride. If I bring a few to the hut for their medical exams, no one will question it.” She tied back her hair and moved to leave.
“Brim, wait,” Rahkki called, stopping the animal doctor just as she was closing the door. “I—I don’t want to put you in danger.”
The animal healer winked at him. “Don’t fret, young warrior, everyone underestimates an old person.”
While Rahkki waited for his friends, he wove together random pieces of leather, wondering how his brother’s legs had healed so fast. The last time he’d seen Brauk his brother couldn’t walk at all. Tak stretched and flew out Brim’s window to hunt.
Soon after, footsteps approached. Rahkki bolted into the horse stall and hid as Brim’s back door opened. “Ay?” came a soft voice.
“Rahkki?” asked another. It was Koko and Jul.
Relieved, Rahkki stepped into view. When Jul saw him, he leaped at Rahkki and shook him playfully. “You’re alive,” he said, adding a brisk hug. “And taller.”
Koko was next. “Ay, Stormrunner.” She threw a jab at Rahkki’s chest, and her strength sent him stumbling into a table.
“Sorry,” she said, her lips twitching into a smile.
Rahkki righted himself and grinned. “It’s good to see you both.”
Questions exploded as the three caught up on all that had happened since they’d last seen one another. “Everyone thinks the giants ate you,” Jul said.
Rahkki burst out laughing. “I’d be dead if they did.”
“Yuh used ta be too small ta eat,” Koko teased. “No’ anymore.”
Rahkki quickly explained about the soup—what was in it and what was not.
“Tha’ can’t be,” Koko said. “I ’eard the stories since I was a tot. Giants eat kids.”
“Not true. They’re peaceful.” Flashes of roaring, stomping giants filled Rahkki’s mind. “Maybe not peaceful,” he corrected, “but they don’t hunt us.” Then he explained about their sacred land and how Rahkki had spoiled Fire Horde’s soup.
“You did this after they offered us three armies?” Jul asked.
Rahkki grimaced. “Yeah, and now they’re coming to kill us, hopefully not until after the rains though. Did you get the camping gear? Will you help me find my brother? He’ll know what to do about the giants.”
Koko nodded at their satchels. “We snatched up wha’ we could. No’ much food left, an’ no good weapons.”
Jul produced a Daakuran hammer and Koko held up her pitchfork. “Harak took all the real ones,” Jul explained.
“I have this.” Rahkki showed them Miah’s wooden-handled dagger, which was the size of a small sword in his hands, and he chose one of Brim’s old shovels.
Brim entered the hut, whistling a song. “I got three warhorses tied outside,” she said. “They’re old, but they’re well trained.”
Rahkki grabbed Brim and hugged her tight. “I—” He didn’t know what to say.
She hugged him back. “I know,” she whispered, eyes crinkling as she released him. “Go on now, find your brother and your princess. And here, wear this hat.” She plopped a frayed old sunbonnet on his head. “It’ll hide your face.”
“Thanks,” Rahkki said, and he slid through Brim’s door with his friends, keeping to the jungle side of her hut. They found the horses ground tied in the shelter of a palm cluster. Koko sorted through Brim’s meager tack supply and they outfitted the horses, adjusting bridles and saddles to fit them. Koko chose the chestnut stallion. Jul picked the gray mare, and that left Rahkki with the biggest horse, a solid-black stallion that was as thick as a bull. The retired warhorses, while long in tooth, were strong and willing. Rahkki stroked the black’s wet mane as he mounted. “Don’t buck me off,” he said.
The experienced stallion accepted Rahkki’s weight without fidgeting.
“You look like a gardener, not a fighter,” Jul said, laughing at the hat. “But it’ll do. With your mucked-up clothes, hand-me-down boots, and bonnet, you look like any other shoddy village kid.”
“Except I have a dragon,” Rahkki said. He turned his face to the clouds and chortled, imitating Tak. The burner never flew too far from Rahkki and his hearing was excellent. Within a few moments, Tak appeared, diving through the rain.
“Is that a Gorlan burner?” Jul asked, openmouthed.
Rahkki nodded. “Yeah, his flight picks on him, so he hangs out with me now.” Tak swooped over their heads, releasing dragon pellets in a neat circle, before landing on Rahkki’s shoulder. “Crawk!” he shrieked proudly. Jul and Koko clapped their hands.
“Yuh tamed ’im good,” Koko said.
Rahkki shrugged. “He tamed himself. His name’s Tak.”
Jul snorted. “You’ve got some way with animals, Rahkki. Wild animals don’t tame themselves for me.”
“Me either,” Koko said. “Most try ta eat me.” They all burst out laughing.
With that, the team trotted into the jungle. They would swing wide to avoid the Fifth Clan boundary and then head south to look for Brauk.
24
Western Wilds
AFTER COASTING THROUGH A CLOUD BANK, Brauk yelled over his shoulder, “There it is, the Western Wilds.”
I’Lenna lifted her eyes and squinted between Firo’s ears. After the rebel army had been freed, Tuni had led the group south to confuse the Sky Guard. But as soon as they were out of view, the group had dropped into the forest canopy and angled west. The wild herd had helped with the rescue and many carried rebels on their backs. Tuni had landed aboard Sula, and Brauk was riding a gigantic white stallion with furry legs.
Tuni guided Sula closer to Brauk and they spoke, catching up and plotting their revenge against Harak and Lilliam. Ossi dragged behind, looking unhappy, and Feylah carried the rear, taking in everything. The freed rebels balanced on their wild mounts, looking awestruck, and the herd flew in a formation that put I’Lenna in mind of migrating birds. The twin foals glided on their mother’s wake, looking tired but determined.
Firo’s powerful wings gripped the wind as the group soared across the sky. I’Lenna knew very little about the Western Wilds and had never seen them. The woods ahead were plain and dark, as if a fire had roared through them and burned out all the colors. The soaring blackwood trees grew out of brown mud and their hard trunks were smooth barked and unpalatable, even to termites. Silver foliage decorated the cold and impervious branches, which reached out like frozen tentacles.
I’Lenna searched the looming forest for glints of silk that would indicate a black magna colony, and noticed the treetops were preternaturally silent. “Where are the birds?” she asked.
Brauk turned his head around. “They avoid the Wilds.”
“Does anything live here beside the black magnas?”
Brauk peered at her. “You have more tutors than teeth, I’Lenna; didn’t they teach you about the Realm?”
“They’re from Daakur,” she huffed. “They teach letters, culture, Gorlish, and mathematics.”
“None of that will help you here,” he scoffed.
“Look,” she said, frowning now. “A crown princess has armed soldiers for fighting,
private guards for traveling, and wranglers to deal with wild animals. We’re taught to lead, not to tangle with common threats. As the future rulers of our clans, we must be protected, much like your helmet protects you. Without the head, the body is useless, no?” She glanced across the sky at Feylah, the true crown princess.
“I didn’t say you knew nothing,” Brauk groused.
“But you implied I know nothing useful.” Her spine grew tighter. “No, you didn’t imply it, you said it outright.”
“You did,” Feylah agreed, smirking at her brother.
Leaning over the white stallion’s neck, Brauk tossed each of them a lopsided grin. “My apologies.”
“Thank you. Now please answer my question. What else lives here?” I’Lenna pressed, her voice carrying on the wind.
“War hares, gophers, and deer,” he answered. “They thrive on these silver plants and leaves.”
I’Lenna tensed at the mention of war hares. She’d read plenty of stories about them in a series of popular Daakuran children’s books. The fighting rabbits were as large as Sandwen dogs and meaner than weasels. Highly territorial, they attacked all creatures that came near their hidden warrens.
“War hares are the spiders’ favorite meal,” Brauk added.
“Oh,” she breathed. “That doesn’t bode well for us.” I’Lenna hugged Firo’s glossy neck and peered down at the rain-soaked jungle. A wet, mulchy odor steamed up from the forest floor, mixing with the cooler air. They flew over a pile of bones, gray-white and ravaged clean by monsoon ants. I’Lenna recognized the skull, a stag’s.
“Gah!” Mut cried, jabbing his finger west and twisting around on Drael’s back. “There’s a colony! Look at it!”
I’Lenna spotted the glimmer of rain-wet silk far off toward the horizon. Only the uppermost levels of the colony were visible from where they flew.
“Black magna webs span across acres and acres of blackwood trees,” Brauk called out to the group. “It’s how I imagine the capital city in the empire—planned and layered like a grid. The different levels are all connected by silk ladders, and every black magna citizen has a job.”
“A job? What do you mean?” Ossi asked. I’Lenna noticed that her playfulness toward Brauk had cooled since he’d reunited with Tuni.
Brauk answered her question, oblivious to the change in her. “Like they’ve got scouts, sentries, and soldiers for the armies. And at the web, they have spinners to make new levels and repair old ones, babysitters for their spiderlings, breeders to make more of the little brats, and a slew of teachers, medics, and cleaners. But they despise rain, which is good for us.”
“Do they hibernate?” Mut asked. He’d never ridden a Flier before and his tall body perched awkwardly on Drael’s back.
“No, they’re awake, but their scouts won’t venture far until the ground is drier. We should be fine.”
Should be fine? I’Lenna had never heard less soothing words.
Brauk tugged gently on the white stallion’s mane, urging him to hold steady. The stallion complied, shaking his head and stomping the sky with his hooves. It was obvious he didn’t like to be ridden. The entire group joined Brauk, hovering near the treetops. The Kihlari had also spotted the thick silk cords and, with their superior eyesight, could probably make out the inhabitants as well.
“We’re landing here,” Brauk shouted over his shoulder. The wind billowed his tunic and slapped his wet hair against his face.
Grateful to get out of the weather, I’Lenna nudged Firo to descend. The mare tucked her black-edged feathers and dropped altitude.
When they touched down between the trees, the riders dismounted. Brauk released the wild stallion with a friendly pat, and his golden eyes seemed brighter against the colorless gray clouds. He addressed the freed rebels and introduced Feylah, his sister. He explained how their mother had escaped and then died.
“You’re our true queen,” one rebel said to Feylah, and the warriors dipped their heads to her in awe.
I’Lenna flushed and stepped back, still unsure of her place in all this.
Brauk continued. “The Sky Guard has mapped out three black magna colonies over the years,” he said. “There might be more we don’t know about, but this spot is as far from the three known webs as we can get. Let’s make camp. Be as quiet as you can.”
The group and the freed rebels broke apart to construct shelters, weave groundcover, itemize their meager supply of weapons, and ration their food supply. Around them, the wild and tame Kihlari grazed, flicking their ears at every noise.
Mut peered at the desolate blackwood trees. “Without birds or monkeys to warn us, how will we know if there’s danger?”
“We have better sentries,” Feylah answered, eyeing the wary winged horses.
Brauk, Thaan, and Ossi withdrew their hunting knives and went out with several rebel soldiers to gather food. Just as they disappeared, the overfull clouds let loose fresh rain. When the group returned, they scooted beneath the newly fashioned overhangs the others had built. They all shared a meal of squirming grubs. “It was all we could find,” Ossi said in apology.
The Kihlari spread their glossy feathers to deflect the falling water droplets, and the twin foals sheltered beneath their dam’s large wings.
The Stormrunners—Darthan, Brauk, and Feylah—called a meeting with Tuni and the rebel soldiers. “We need to make weapons and prepare,” Brauk began. “Harak will be expecting our return.”
Tuni nodded. “But his armies are hungry—Lilliam’s not feeding them well—and nothing erodes loyalty faster than hunger. If we make a strong show, more warriors may join us before the battle is over. Especially when they see your sister.”
“She’s not fighting,” Brauk said. “And I won’t risk exposing her. Harak and Lilliam are not following Clan Law. They won’t respect her authority.”
Feylah twirled her sword. “I’m a warrior queen, Brother. I am fighting.”
His eyes snapped to Thaan and Tully. “I thought you taught her our ways? Women are fighters, true, but not princesses and not queens. Feylah is a ruler. We protect her, not the other way around.”
“Tell her that,” Thaan said with the resigned look of someone used to losing arguments with Feylah Stormrunner.
Brauk swiped back his long hair and turned to his sister. “You’re serious? You want to fight?”
“We train almost every day,” she said, glancing at her guardians. “I’ve been preparing for my return to the Fifth Clan since I learned to walk.”
Brauk considered this, and then shook his head. “No. You’re too young and too important,” he stated. “Anyway, you have to be twelve to fly with the Sky Guard. That’s the law, and as the queen, you must obey it.”
Feylah lifted her chin. “That’s not fair—”
“I won’t argue with you.” The two faced off, male and female reflections of each other, and Brauk’s posture did not waver.
Feylah finally dropped her eyes and nodded, but she was clearly disappointed.
“And we’re not riding these wild steeds,” Brauk told the group. “They’re unpredictable and untrained.” He glanced at the Sky Guard Riders. “Your Fliers are locked in the Ruk. We’ll break into the barn and free them. If you lost your Flier during the battle on Mount Crim, you can choose a retired steed.”
I’Lenna watched Tuni swallow hard as tears filled her eyes. She was probably thinking of her lost Flier, Rizah.
Brauk brushed Tuni’s arm and continued. “The soldiers will fight from the ground. The wild herd can do as they like.”
The plans and arguments continued, and I’Lenna tuned them out. She leaned against a tree as shivers rolled through her body. Exhaustion threatened to pull her into sleep.
Firo, who grazed nearby, turned her ice-blue eyes toward the princess. Droplets of water wet the mare’s long, dark eyelashes, and her mottled blue hide was as clean as a fresh-laid egg.
With a great sigh, I’Lenna turned her thoughts to Rahkki. He was clever enough to e
scape the giants; she knew it. But if he had escaped, then where was he? Why hadn’t he come home? Tears gathered behind her closed eyelids.
Brauk noticed her sad face and sidled away from the meeting to check on her. “What is it?” he asked.
“Rahkki” was all she could say. Her throat was so tight it hurt.
Brauk touched her shoulder, briefly and gently. “I miss him too,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
She stared out of the shelter at the falling rain, took a long breath, and let it out.
Brauk touched her forehead and chewed his lip. “Are you sick?”
“I’m fine.”
“Darthan! Tully!” he called. “Come here, I’Lenna’s burning up.”
Rahkki’s uncle trotted to her side, touched her forehead, and felt her pulse. “Why didn’t you say something?” he asked, his face pinched.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“I brought medicine,” Darthan said, heading for his supplies.
Brauk sat next to I’Lenna, his golden eyes raking over her trembling limbs. “It’s almost over now.”
She gazed up at him. He was talking about the uprising against her mother. Didn’t he realize that afterward, she’d be marooned without a family? The Whitehalls would be banished—or worse—and her mother would denounce her for helping Brauk.
He seemed to read her thoughts. “The clan is your family, I’Lenna. We’ll take care of you. All of us, especially the Stormrunners.”
“You can’t promise that.”
He shrugged and repeated one half of an ancient Sandwen proverb. “They say a promise born is a promise dying, right? So give me a chance to show you I’m serious.”
She nodded and her unbraided hair shifted across her shoulders.
“Good. My uncle will give you something for the fever. Stay strong and speak up when you need help, okay?” With a smile that reminded her of Rahkki, and a quick wink that was all Brauk, he returned to the meeting.
Darthan appeared next with medicine and I’Lenna swallowed it. He offered her a dry bedroll and she climbed inside, feeling utterly alone as she imagined a future without her mother.
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