by Jada Fisher
Athar sighed, and Ukrah had the feeling that the two had a long history together. It seemed funny that, as many legends as there were about the god-woman’s exploits, there were relatively few rumors about her mountain of a husband. Just that he and his dragon were both giants, guarding over her and keeping her safe.
“Do you have a way to signal to them? To call them here?”
“No need. They’re due in today, actually. We stick to a pretty strict schedule to make sure that there’s always protection for this town and I’m heading out on the morrow. Stay, rest for the night, and you can all discuss it once they arrive.”
“Alright th-hen. You have enough rooms for us?”
“You and then some. Our forces used to be a lot more, back in the day.”
“Yeah,” Athar agreed with a sigh. “They really were.”
Ukrah heard the hurt there, the nostalgia. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how many people died against the Blight. Not because no one ever discussed it. Everyone had lost someone to the war. The struggle. Some people lost several someones.
But it was one thing to lose someone finite, someone personal, then to comprehend the loss of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Ukrah didn’t even think she knew a thousand people in total.
“We might as well settle in th-then, I guess. I don’t suppose your cooking has got any better?”
The man let out a bark of laughter. “Don’t you worry. I haven’t been allowed in the kitchens for a couple of years. We had an orphan boy come into our fold who handles all of that for us. He’s got a mouth that would make even that wife of yours blush, but he’s never made anything that wasn’t outright delicious.”
“Good to know. He around?”
“Nah, probably out playing with a pig-bladder with the other orphan kids. He’ll be here soon though. Everyone in town knows they can come here if they need a good meal.”
Athar nodded. “Rooms in the same place as usual?”
“You betcha. I’m too lazy to move things around, and the rest are all too busy.”
“You’re the last person in the world I would s-say is lazy. You’re just old.”
“Hey, watch it now. I’m your host, but I can still whoop you in a fight.”
“Is th-that so?”
The older man looked over Athar’s muscles on muscles, the corner of his mouth going up in a grin. “Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s not find out just yet, huh, big guy?”
Athar gave him a nod and motioned for everyone to follow. Ukrah did, but her gaze stayed on the older man.
So, he was part of the corps that governed the lands toward the wilds? The keepers of the borderlands? She’d heard of them, because it was impossible not to considering who she lived with, but they too had been abstract ideas in the back of her head. Ghosts that flew in the sky but weren’t connected to anything real.
The bedrooms were waiting for them a few doors down, with multiple cots in each. The three young ones took one room, while Athar took the one next to them, pushing two cots together to fit his bulk. Not too long after that, there were sounds of greeting from below, and Ukrah guessed that either the orphan cook or the other riders were back.
But she was bone tired, her back and behind still sore from the ride. Even Voirdr was sleepy, cuddled against Crispin’s front.
“You lot can stay up h-h-here until the meal, if you want. Rest up.”
Ukrah nodded wearily and slid into a cot, holding her arms out for her little boy. He draped over her frame, warm and heavy, then Cassinda and Crispin were also settling down beside her.
It was the first step of their journey, and absolutely the easiest, but she was smart enough to know that things were going to get much more complicated as it continued.
2
Trust is a Weakness
They left the small city the next day with full bellies and feeling much more refreshed. Or at least Ukrah did. Athar, for all his quiet nature, looked wearier than ever.
She didn’t know what kind of conversation he’d had with the other riders when they arrived late into the night, but it seemed to be productive, because he assured her as they ate their morning meal that the riders were going to increase their patrols in the area until they found the men who had been a part of the caravan that had claimed her.
But thinking about that time of her life, about being dragged along behind the wagon, chains tethering her to them, made her wrists ache. She still believed that it had been her best bet at getting to safety, but that didn’t mean it had been easy.
Unfortunately, they didn’t get to ride for long. It was maybe sometime in the afternoon that the dark clouds rolled in, and only an hour or so later that thunder began to rumble.
“We need to land,” Athar said, grimacing.
“Are you sure?” Ukrah shouted over the noise of the growing storm.
“We don’t have a blue dragon around, so it’s not safe.”
“What about Ethella’s shields?”
“I think you’re underestimating just how m-m-much power is behind a lightning strike, especially from this high up. And she’d have to hold it for our entire ride and make sure that it covered Fior and you too.”
Ah, all that made sense.
She nodded and they began to set down, whirling in an ever-shrinking circle until they breeched the canopy. It wasn’t as convenient as an open field, meadow or stream, but the thick trees would at least hold off most of the torrent pouring down.
They set up their tents but didn’t go about building a fire. Ukrah assumed it was because even a dragon’s fire couldn’t hold out for that long with the storm coming down even harder. Voirdr whined the entire time, trying to burrow himself under her or Crispin’s tunic while they set things up.
They did eventually manage, however, and then they were all changing into their only spare set of clothes that were bound tightly in their packs and helping themselves to rations. It wasn’t exactly a good night, but it wasn’t the worst, especially since their own body heat did well to keep the hide and canvas tent fairly warm.
Not exactly the stuff of myths or legends, but she supposed it was always the banal details that were left out. For instance, when the history books described Eist and her child, she doubted that any of them would mention how many times the god-woman was doubled over her chamber pot, turning her stomach inside out.
But just as she started to sink into sleep, her muscles going loose and her mind relaxing, she felt an intense sort of vibration.
“What was that?” Cassinda asked, sitting up. If it were any other time, Ukrah would have marveled at how different the girl looked with her long, long hair done up in a series of braids and her tiny, lithe form cloaked in a jerkin and breeches rather than her usual lovely dresses.
Ukrah didn’t have time to even guess, her blood rushing in her ears, because the next moment, Athar was throwing open the front flap of their tent.
He was still dressing, buckling his weapon belt on. “We’re s-s-surrounded,” he stated flatly.
“Surrounded?” Crispin asked, scrambling to his feet.
“Get dressed. Get ready for an attack. It’s either s-slavers or dragon traders.”
Ukrah was already on her feet and putting her wet boots back on, the laces biting into her hands.
“How did they even find us?” Crispin asked, scrambling too, which was difficult considering that Voirdr was trying to wind up in his legs, barking complaints that his sleep was disrupted.
“Seems awfully convenient that they’ve found us right after we left the city,” Cassinda murmured idly, stretching and causing a series of pops to sound from her back.
“I’m well aware.”
Oh. That did not bode well.
“Where’s Fior?” Ukrah asked, realizing that neither his head nor his tail were in the tent. Usually, he had either one or the other in the shelter as a social thing, she guessed to make sure that they were safe or maybe even because he missed his rider, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“If I had to guess, he’s up in the canopy. Ethella’s a deep sleeper, so I’m pretty sure he’s the one who alerted her.”
“Was that rumble Ethella?”
He nodded. “You three get to the woods. We’ll draw the attack.”
“We can fight,” Ukrah and Cassinda said at the same time.
“The old spirits h-help us if I end up needing your help, little ones.” Athar sighed. “We can’t question them if they’re ripped to pieces by plants or…” His gaze slid over to Ukrah. “…whatever it is you do to people.”
She swallowed hard, wondering what he would think if he knew what she did to those men who had kidnapped and hurt Crispin. Nothing good, she was sure.
“Okay.”
“But make sure you have your weapons on you. You c-c-can never be too s-safe.”
“Yes, because compared to having an ancient power housed within me, it’s my staff that’s gonna be my best defense.”
Athar sighed again and went to step back out of the tent. “I think things were easier before you knew h-h-how to speak common better than m-me.”
From anyone else, it would have been rude. But from kind, self-deprecating Athar, it was just sweet. But then, just as easily as he said it, he was back outside of the tent.
“Come on,” Crispin whispered, throwing one of the dark blankets from their roll over himself. Considering how bright his blond hair was, it was a smart move. Cassinda mirrored him, cloaking her pale skin and flaming red tresses. “I think I saw a sort of gully by a fallen tree as we were setting up.”
Ukrah nodded and let him lead them out into the night. Despite Ethella’s continued rumbling, she couldn’t spot anything different about the night air. No sense of warning or foreboding. While she was no trained warrior like Eist or Athar, she wasn’t exactly naïve to the ways of the world.
And yet there was nothing but forest around them.
Were they really surrounded? Everything seemed so peaceful. It seemed like she had a lot more to learn.
They crept over to a fallen tree, and then Crispin was sliding into the earth like a spirit. Despite knowing that he was going into a gully, she still almost yelped when he disappeared from sight. Voirdr let out a soft whine, distressed that his mama was gone, and Ukrah shushed him gently.
Holding her little guy tightly, she slipped right down into the gully too. It was dark and damp, with the top of the fallen tree blocking them mostly from view and a cluster of thick ferns disguising their backs. Ukrah didn’t even want to think of what kinds of creepies and crawlies were surrounding them. If there was one thing that the civilized lands had too much of, it was bugs.
Wet, slippy, slimy, and bitey. They seemed to come in every shape and color, and most of them were designed to make humans’ lives terrible. Between the stinging, or venom, or biting, or whatever, Ukrah was more scared of them than she was of the other strange creatures she had heard about.
Then she finally heard it—a strange snap several yards from her that sounded too crisp and too bright in the night air. She sucked in a breath, looking to Cassinda and Crispin beside her even though she couldn’t see anything past their outlines.
And then a roar sounded.
Suddenly, Ethella burst from the ground, roaring and flaring her wings. She shot fire right up into the sky, going with such a force it punched through the canopy and went up toward the stars.
And then it was like the world broke in two and evil poured out.
Several riders burst through the tree line, holding spears and nets and crossbows. These were definitely the weapons and tools of people looking to capture, not murder.
Her stomach dropped as Athar swung himself up onto Ethella’s back and charged forward, brandishing his sword. They swooped upward, spiraling out of the thrown nets and ropes.
Ukrah guessed that he was trying to gather them, trying to get them to group together as they aimed for him. And it worked, because they rushed forward, calling out orders for each other, shooting up more ropes and bolts and nets.
And just when they were at their tightest formation, a strange, heart-stopping sound cut through the air, gathering in force and beating down on the group of men.
It pulsed inside of Ukrah, making her ears ache and her teeth set on edge. Voirdr let out an unhappy sound, but she urged him to quiet, scratching behind his tines.
The men who attacked them were faring much worse, some sort of strange force hitting them and forcing them down to the earth. The foliage beneath their feet rippled and bent, rippling as if some sort of great wind was rushing directly down on them.
It was Fior’s power, she realized. Somehow, he was able to make sound into a force of its own, a solid but invisible object that could rip through buildings or crush a man’s skeleton from the outside.
Her jaw dropped, shocked to see what she had heard spoken of in such hushed whispers on display right in front of her. It was just as impressive as she had imagined, but that much more terrifying in the fact that she couldn’t see it.
It was clear that the battle was going to be over before it began, the men all collapsed to the ground and trembling, when she heard a great and terrible clap of thunder above their heads and the sound of teeth and claw sliding against scales.
What was happening?
Fior’s blast of sound stopped, making her body stop rumbling and her brain stop feeling like it was about to tumble into nothingness. The men started to pick themselves up, but the brindle ignored them, shooting into the sky.
“What’s going on?” Crispin whispered. “He had them…”
“Listen,” Cassinda hissed over the pelting rain and curses of the attackers. “That’s a dragon fight if I ever heard one.”
“Dragon fight!?”
Cassinda nodded. “They’re either rogues or slavers who managed to get their hands on dragons that were lost during the war and the Blight’s last great plan.”
“I thought a dragon would die without its rider or if they were separated for too long,” Ukrah said. The very thought of being separated from Voirdr for any length of time made her sick to her stomach.
“Most dragons, but not all. And there are some riders who have strayed from the fold, who abuse their power for themselves. The riders try to deal with it, but with the reconstruction, there’s so many other things to do. A lot of them seem to be able to slip through the cracks.”
“And you’re telling me there are dragons up there fighting Ethella and Fior?”
“If I had to guess.”
“They’ve gotta be trying to distract Athar,” Crispin added, his voice still hushed. “Keep him busy with their fight so the ground troops can set up their nets and all that.”
Ukrah looked to Cassinda. “We can’t let them do that.”
“No,” she answered grimly. “We can’t.”
“Hey now, we’re supposed to stay hidd—”
Ukrah shifted, turning to press Voirdr into Crispin’s hold. “Stay here,” she said, urging him to press into the corner of the gully, the part most hidden by the tree and lip of earth above. He opened his mouth to object, but she fixed him with a pleading look. “You’ve gotta watch him, okay? Keep him safe.”
“Come on,” the boy groused, clutching Voirdr close to him. “I can help. I can fight.”
Ukrah’s mind flashed back to that time in the clearing, when whatever was inside of her had taken care of his would-be kidnappers one by one. The thought of him being hurt like that again, of being broken or beaten, made her sick. She had to protect him.
“Please?” she murmured before Cassinda was gripping her wrist and pulling her up.
“I can handle the ones at the edges of battle, but that will take most of my energy. You’ll have to take care of those in the center.”
Ukrah felt her anxiety rising, danger and heat thick on her tongue. “Okay.”
“But first, I need you to strike me.”
“What?”
“I’m not angry enough, I can’t get a grip on
anything. I need you to hurt me.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ukrah hissed quietly. Just like with Crispin, the thought of causing the girl discomfort, of her being hurt or struck, made her nauseous.
“Just slap me! Trust me, it’ll work. I have a terrible temper.”
“Cassinda—”
“We don’t have time for this! There’s a whole battle right there!”
Ukrah licked her lips, knowing she couldn’t hit the girl but also knowing that the proper thing to do was to help her along. But before she could force herself to do something that she didn’t want to, a small shape swooped down from the tree and went at Cassinda’s face.
The girl swore and stumbled back, Ukrah reaching out to grab her, before realizing that it was none other than Tayir, flapping his wing and scratching and screeching. It lasted only a few breaths, but his attack quickly stopped when a branch leaned down from one of the trees above and slapped the bird out of the way.
“Okay,” Cassinda said, breathing hard. “That works.”
Without another word, she strode toward the battle, her posture intense and unyielding. Despite the noise of Tayir’s attack, none of the men were looking toward them, their eyes trained on the skies as they reloaded their various traps.
She took a silent step toward them and raised her hands. Ukrah felt the snap of something along her skin and then the ground was rippling and buckling under her feet. That was all the warning she had before roots burst up from the earth, gripping several men and dragging them down. Their cries filled the air, and soon everyone who wasn’t grabbed was looking right at the redheaded girl.
Ah, that was what Ukrah was there for.
“Come on now,” Cassinda said, looking to her. Except what looked at Ukrah wasn’t any sort of normal expression. Instead it was something entirely foreign and cold, bloodthirsty and tinged with the smile of a true predator. “Tear the rest of them apart before I do.”
Ukrah swallowed hard, hearing the malicious glee in her words. And yet, as terrifying as they were, as dangerous as they seemed, she knew that there was an edge of familiarity to it. Something that made the back of her mind prickle with recollection.