Smoke from the burning huts and the cries of Sandwen children came into sharp focus as she nodded.
“We’ll save your mom, I’Lenna, I promise! Does a dragon drool?”
She smiled and wiped her eyes, but Rahkki heard her whispered response: “Not a dead dragon.”
33
Storm Herd
THUNDER CRACKED THE SKY AND THE STORM clouds shuddered, finally releasing the rain that had swelled within them. The Sky Guard Fliers swooped beneath the weeping clouds, shouting battle cries at the rebel forces.
“Formation!” Hazelwind neighed. Storm Herd collected as they would in Anok—the largest steeds flanking each winged captain, the sprinters in the front and the endurance fliers in the rear, creating striated offensive lines with pegasi poised at various altitudes, like an angled stack. A pegasus battle was as much about stamina as skill. The first herd to drive the other to the ground would triumph—and all battles ended on the ground eventually. By contrast, the Sky Guard army flew in a flat square of straight lines.
Dewberry celebrated. “My sky herders will easily drive them apart.”
“Show us!” Echofrost whinnied.
Dewberry led her mares into the fight. She’d taught her small, agile mares how to drive pegasi toward land and how to divide their battle formations. They’d also practiced the secret language of sky herders, which was an unfathomable series of clicks and whistles to the untrained ear. Now Echofrost would see if the time they’d spent training produced results.
Rahkki leaned and adjusted as she flew, as if he were part of her. He didn’t attempt to steer her; rather he drew his blade and shield, ready for anything. Tak glided beside them, shooting electric white fire into the sky. I’Lenna had guided Shysong toward the fortress and Echofrost had lost sight of them.
Another peal of thunder shook Echofrost’s ears. It wasn’t safe to fly in this storm, but not one pegasus, wild or tame, seemed to care. The two armies clashed above the fortress walls.
Echofrost ducked, narrowly avoiding a collision with a Sky Guard Flier. Then all thought left her as Harak’s stallion, Ilan, pinned his ears and led his larger army toward hers. The rebels gripped their spears and Harak shouted orders that were unintelligible to the wild herd. But whatever Harak had said, the meaning was clear—his Riders would not spare any Kihlari, wild or tame, just because they were sacred to the clan. Their hooded eyes promised death. Their sharp blades craved blood.
But satisfaction bubbled in Echofrost’s gut. Finally, Storm Herd would show these pampered steeds how to fight, and how to fly! She threw back her head and rallied Storm Herd by recalling their homeland. “In the Trap, we defeated two armies. In the Flatlands of Anok, we fooled the Destroyer. This army”—she snorted at the Sky Guard—“cannot touch us!” All the savage fury she’d tamped down since being captured surged through Echofrost’s veins. Her pulse pounded, her feathers rattled.
Around her, the wild steeds buzzed their wings as they charged forward.
Ilan flattened his neck and bared his teeth. Harak pushed him to fly faster.
Brauk leaned over Kol’s neck, his lips pulled into a snarl. Kol’s muscles rippled with savage power, his eyes beamed at his enemies, his hooves struck the clouds with deadly fury, and Echofrost remembered the first day she’d met him. He’d terrified her. She’d learned later that he was vain and spoiled and ignorant—but his Anokian roots shone in battle, and she was pleased.
The flying armies collided. Riders swung their swords, hooves struck hides, and teeth tore into skin. Grunts and snorts, squeals and shrieks filled the sky. The self-selected captains, Echofrost, Hazelwind, Redfire, and Graystone, trumpeted commands.
“Drop!” Dewberry whinnied. Her sky herders followed her down and then up into the center of the Sky Guard. They broke apart the bulky formation, then formed a circle, each facing out. As Fliers charged them, they reared up and clubbed the Kihlari’s foreheads. In Anok, this would have killed them, but here the steeds wore helmets.
Echofrost spiraled down, her chosen squad diving with her. Rahkki clung like a burr to her back as she circled to the rear of Harak’s army. Hazelwind’s group joined hers and half the Sky Guard was forced to turn around to fight them. The other half faced Redfire’s and Graystone’s squadrons.
Divide, confuse, destroy—that’s what Thundersky had taught his Sun Herd captains in Anok. Hazelwind and Echofrost knew the strategy because they’d been born to Sun Herd. The Desert Herd stallion Redfire used speed and altitude to attack, and Graystone, who hailed from Snow Herd, used blunt and shocking force—battling head-on. With their combined skills, they overwhelmed Rahkki’s enemies.
The Sky Guard had a fighting style all their own. They preferred maximum early effort and a quick win—but that would not work with Storm Herd. The wild pegasi groups were too agile, too fast, and too fit.
Ilan shot toward her and Echofrost dodged him. She tipped sideways and raked her sharpened hooves across his exposed ribs, drawing blood. He lunged and bit into her upper leg.
Ilan’s Rider, Harak, swung his sawa sword at Rahkki, his green eyes raging behind his helmet. Echofrost darted higher. The spotted stallion flipped around, but too fast, and Harak almost slid off his back. Ilan steadied for the sake of his Rider, and in that heartbeat, Echofrost kicked his wing, stinging the muscles. Ilan stalled and plummeted toward land, regaining his balance just moments before he and Harak would have struck the ground.
Beside Echofrost, Hazelwind battled three steeds at once. His mane blew in the wind; his jaw twitched into a grimace. The length of his muscles rippled as he spun, dived, bit, and clubbed his assailants. It was like watching Thundersky when he was alive—as if the sire and the son had combined into one mighty warrior. Hazelwind made short work of his three Kihlari, sending two to the ground and one into retreat.
The Riders hollered to one another and sliced at the wild pegasi with their glinting swords. The rebels returned the attack, using their whittled spears. Redfire’s wounded shoulder gushed blood. Long gashes marked Hazelwind’s flanks. And several Storm Herd steeds had gone to ground, too injured to fly. Echofrost noticed all this in a breath, and then she singled out a dun Kihlara mare and rejoined the attack. As she and the mare flew tight circles, biting and kicking, Dewberry’s sharp whinny reached her.
“Drive the Sky Guard down!” Dewberry commanded the sky herders. The mares re-collected and charged back into the fray. The tiny mares, a blur of bright feathers, exploded into the remaining ranks of the Sky Guard and dashed their formation to pieces. As she shot past Echofrost, Dewberry whinnied with pleasure. “Lovely day for a battle, don’t you think?”
Echofrost snorted in rebuff. Some steeds were too aggressive for their own good, and Dewberry was one of them. But the tide had turned to Storm Herd’s favor. The Kihlari, laden with saddles, armor, and Riders, were too heavy and slow to defend themselves against unencumbered pegasi warriors. And Harak’s Riders couldn’t shoot their arrows effectively in such close combat.
“Press the advantage,” Hazelwind neighed to Storm Herd.
“Attack the Riders,” Echofrost brayed. She’d noticed that once a Rider fell off his or her Kihlara, the Kihlara stopped fighting.
The pegasi of Anok descended upon the Sandwens, and the Landwalkers lifted their shields and weapons. These people who’d abandoned Rahkki to the giants, who’d enslaved wild pegasi, and who’d imprisoned Echofrost in a stall and cut her flight feathers were locked in her sights. The sky washed bright red as anger blinded Echofrost. She drew a breath. No! This battle wasn’t for revenge; it was for freedom—for Rahkki’s people and for the Kihlari—and freedom, unlike revenge, was worth fighting for.
She exhaled and charged.
34
Chase
I’LENNA DUG HER HEELS INTO FIRO’S SIDES AND they fled the battle. She would meet Rahkki at the drainage grate as planned, near the southern tunnel that led into Fort Prowl. When a clan was under attack or siege, the monarch and her family retreated t
o her private chambers. Her personal guards would protect the entrance. Her acting general would defend the fortress. This was a siege of sorts and I’Lenna imagined Lilliam would follow the same safety protocols, especially since she had recently birthed Prince K’Lar.
If the battle swung in Brauk’s favor, Rahkki would meet her and they’d sneak through the tunnels to Lilliam’s chambers and enter through the false door in her fireplace. They’d offer Lilliam one last chance to flee the Realm or risk death at the hands of the enraged rebels. If the tide swung toward Harak’s forces, and it looked like Lilliam would keep her power, Rahkki would meet I’Lenna and help her escape to Daakur.
Now I’Lenna flew through the steam and fog, heading toward the drainage grate. Her rain cloak billowed around her, shrouding her head and body. She felt much stronger after her night of rest and warmth in Darthan’s hut. Behind her, Brauk’s forces swarmed toward the fortress. She hoped no one would notice her, a lone rider aboard a small roan mare.
But it was her beautiful braya that gave I’Lenna away.
“That’s Firo!” one of Harak’s Riders shouted. It was Headwind Meela Swift. “Who’s riding her?” she asked. “The princess is dead.”
I’Lenna had just flown past the Kihlari training yard. She leaned over her mare’s neck, as though she could hide them both.
“Catch whoever it is and bring them to me, yeah,” Harak’s voice commanded. “Hurry!”
I’Lenna glanced back in time to see Meela drop out of formation. Their eyes locked and Meela squinted, unable to recognize I’Lenna beneath the cloak. “Halt, you,” she shouted.
I’Lenna’s heart stuttered. She couldn’t get caught now! “Go!” she whispered to Firo. She squeezed the mare’s sides and rose lightly in her stirrups, taking her weight off Firo’s back. The roan surged ahead.
“You’re gonna regret running,” Meela snarled aboard her Flier, Jax.
Jax’s wingbeats filled I’Lenna’s ears. Between fearful looks back, I’Lenna fed Firo the reins, length by length. The mare’s wings carved the wind. She flew faster. I’Lenna guided her south. It didn’t matter which way they went, they just had to lose Meela, and then they could circle back.
They soared past Fort Prowl. She glimpsed land soldiers and guards swarming the courtyard, slamming doors, locking the iron gates, and ringing the bells. The wet wind blew I’Lenna’s hair into her eyes. Lightning snaked above her. She wiped her hair off her forehead and her cloak’s hood slid backward, revealing her face. At that very moment, she spotted her mother on the tower wall.
Lilliam stood with her guards, preparing to retreat to her quarters. The flying blue roan outside the spiked gates had caught her attention. Other than a sharp flicker in her eyes, Lilliam did not seem surprised to see that the dragon had not eaten I’Lenna. Resigned maybe, but not surprised. Her hand floated to the baby she held in a sling across her chest. She graced I’Lenna with a curt nod, and then whirled and vanished down the steps toward her private chambers.
I’Lenna and Firo winged across Leshi Creek, which gushed like a river, and into the jungle. Meela surged closer. “You don’t have to do this!” I’Lenna screamed over her shoulder.
Meela bent over Jax’s neck and urged him to fly faster. She recognized the princess now that her hood was off. “I can’t let you go, I’Lenna.” Riders, like soldiers, swore blood oaths to protect their monarch, for better or for worse, and Meela was loyal. She had not seen Feylah and didn’t know Lilliam was a false queen. Harak had commanded her to catch I’Lenna, and Meela would be worthless to all future leaders if she failed to obey the orders of her sworn queen’s general.
Heart thumping, I’Lenna guided Firo into a dive toward the jungle. She’d have to lose Meela in the trees. Firo was light and agile. Jax and his Rider were armored.
“Stop,” Meela repeated.
Firo dropped into a stand of trees and rocketed forward. I’Lenna briefly floated out of the saddle and Firo slowed. Sun and stars, I’Lenna thought, Firo is holding back so I don’t fall off! But I need all her speed.
Jax powered up behind them, his breath on Firo’s tail. Desperate, I’Lenna wondered how she could make Firo fly at her top speed. Her braya seemed more bent on protecting I’Lenna than escaping Jax. “Go, Firo, go!” I’Lenna urged. She loosened the reins all the way, but Firo continued to fly carefully.
She must stop worrying about me! They hurtled, dodging skinny palms and larger eucalypti. I’Lenna’s next thought, however, was more sobering—Firo was going to crash! They were racing straight toward a section of impenetrable vines and foliage. I’Lenna leaned over the roan’s neck and closed her eyes. Firo notched her wings, tucked her legs, and plunked straight through, creating her own hole.
Sharp twigs scraped I’Lenna’s skin and tore her clothing. She slid dangerously toward Firo’s rump. It took all the strength in her arms to haul herself back up beneath Firo’s black-edged wings.
Meela and Jax burst through the same hole, making it bigger. Jax regained his speed. His neck reached Firo’s rump. Meela leaned forward, grabbed I’Lenna’s cloak, and tried to yank the girl off Firo’s back.
The cloak ripped off and hurled into the wind.
“Faster,” I’Lenna begged, and Firo flicked back her ears, listening. Was this as fast as the roan could fly? If so, I’Lenna knew it was over. They were as good as caught.
But Jax was tiring. He slipped behind Firo, then flapped hard to catch up again. He grew frustrated and angry. He eyed Firo’s mottled flank and opened his jaw.
“Don’t do it,” Meela screamed at him, tugging back on her reins. But Jax couldn’t resist Firo’s exposed hide. He leaned in and bit her flank—hard—drawing blood.
His bite electrified Firo! She dug into the wind and rocketed forward, her wings a blue-black blur. I’Lenna almost slid off, but Firo only flew faster. She lowered her neck, tucked her legs, and hurtled between the trees, twisting sideways, ducking below some branches, soaring over others. All thought for I’Lenna’s safety seemed to have vanished. Firo flew as though losing this stallion was all that mattered in the world.
“Yes,” I’Lenna hissed. “Give it all you’ve got, girl!” The mare pumped her wings even harder with the praise. Her muscles shimmered and the veins in her neck bulged. I’Lenna balanced on Firo’s back, moving in rhythm to her wingbeats. Her heart pounded. Her hands and legs ached from holding on.
She glanced back. Jax shrank in the background, evaporating into the mist. Meela’s expression filled with awe and anger all at once. Then Meela and Jax vanished when Firo reached a waterfall, arrowed her wings, and dived hundreds of lengths straight down.
A huge smile spread across I’Lenna’s face. “Yaweeeeh!” she cried, jingling the bells on her ankles. They snapped out of the dive and Firo glided over the unnamed river, casting no shadow in the gray morning light.
I’Lenna sat up and stroked her mare’s sweaty and rain-soaked neck. They landed and I’Lenna dismounted to allow Firo to catch her breath. After a cooling walk, they both drank carefully from the rushing river. I’Lenna rinsed her face and hands.
Firo lipped at a few plants, her ears swiveling warily. I’Lenna leaned against her chest, feeling Firo’s strong, steady heartbeat. It was time to fly back and wait for Rahkki. “I’m going to miss you when this is over,” I’Lenna said as sudden sadness welled within her breast.
Firo nuzzled her while I’Lenna stroked her jagged blaze and soft, dark muzzle. If it weren’t for Firo and Sula, she’d never have become friends with Rahkki that first day in the Kihlari stable. Even though their friendship had caused them both a lot of trouble, she was grateful for it. “You ready to head back?” I’Lenna asked.
Firo blinked at her, and I’Lenna imagined that her ice-blue eyes were full of thoughts and dreams and wonderings. I’Lenna hugged the mare and then climbed onto her saddle.
Firo lifted off and they cruised low, skirting open areas. When they reached Leshi Creek, Firo touched down and let I’Lenna guide her to t
he drainage grate. I’Lenna dismounted and the pair waited at the edge of the jungle for Rahkki to appear. Around the front side of the fortress, clanging swords, shouts, and the whir of arrows filled the air. “Granak, Father of Dragons,” I’Lenna whispered. “Please protect your people.”
35
Showdown
ECHOFROST SWOOPED AROUND, ASSESSING THE battle. Rahkki’s little dragon soared with them, searing the feathers of any enemy Kihlara who flew near. “Dewberry, take your sky herders to the walls and stop the archers!” she whinnied.
“What’s an archer?”
“The Landwalkers with the shooting sticks!”
“Got it.” The pinto whistled for her clever mares. The sky herders flocked together and then parted quickly, whistling and clicking. They glided up the sides of the walls toward the archers.
“Loose!” one of the Landwalkers shouted.
A hundred arrows arced from the fortress guards. The mares twirled and dodged. Feathers exploded when one was hit, but she flew on, ignoring the pain in her wing. An arrow struck another mare in the flank. She twisted her neck, grabbed the shank, and jerked it out.
Dewberry piped instructions, sending her team faster to the top of the wall. She arrived first and flew sideways, legs coiled back. Her sky herders followed and they glided in a line, kicking archers in the chest as they nocked their second set of arrows. Tak joined the line and scorched the archers with gleeful chortling.
The targeted Landwalkers tumbled backward, falling into the courtyard. When they struck land, Echofrost heard the sickening crunch of broken bones. Rapid cursing and shouting followed.
Echofrost flexed her wings and pointed her muzzle down, planning to glide straight into Fort Prowl. Rahkki leaned forward and patted her neck, encouraging her. Mut, Ossi, and Mut’s friends had landed inside the gates with a band of rebels. There they battled the guards. The furious villagers stood outside, shouting, “Down with Lilliam!”
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