I was so stunned, I couldn’t form words. What was happening? How had Bareena known to do this?
Well, she did mention that she’d been studying this all her life.
“Abdel, take the horse and half the Sentries with you,” Kavva continued, addressing a new warrior. “You will regroup with the spears of the Crimson Prince and follow his orders. It will be as if I have died to you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I started.
“Would you take even that honor from me?” Kavva demanded angrily.
“No,” I stammered. “Of course not.”
She frowned, but she seemed mollified. “Mount your dragons and prepare to fly. We will lead you to the test and administer it in the fashion handed down from our fathers, fathers, fathers for this day.”
I nodded, my eyes still wide. Who would have thought they would take this so seriously?
But they all have. Didn’t you notice? The Dominar left a refugee crisis and the beginning of a war to deal with us personally. The Ko’roi used the last of the magic available to him to open the test for us and he escorted us himself. You say that Taoslil, the Prince of Dragons, took a personal interest. Now, this war leader drops the most significant event of her life to guide us. This is bigger than we are, and somehow everyone else seems to know it.
He was right.
I’m often right.
I just hoped I could pass this test, too. Sweat was already forming on the back of my neck as I climbed up onto his back with Heron and watched the warriors of Baojang disperse, all but Kavva and two others, mounted on two Sentries. Her face was grim as if this was her death, rather than what lay in that black mass in the distance.
I will carry Bareena, Nasataa said. I want to help, but I don’t think I can carry you yet.
He sure was growing up quickly! And that worried me, too. What a way to grow up!
Chapter Eleven
As soon as we were in the air, Heron folded me into his strong arms. I felt like he was trying to help, to somehow keep me safe, though he didn’t understand why.
“Is this uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment.
My eyes still lingered on the battle in the distance. The silence of it was eerie and awful. As if it wasn’t real at all. And yet, I could see humans and horses and Sentries being swallowed up by those horrific black blobs. I felt the horror of it to the core of my bones. I flinched from the fury and loss. Warriors streamed toward the battle from every direction. It was those forces, I realized, that I had heard before. It was the hooves of their horses, the calls of their warriors.
So many people rushing to their own death, trying to defend families and friends with their deaths – and to no avail. We needed more than this.
“It’s ... it’s ...” I started to cry, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I sank into Heron’s arms. Who cared if he’d forgotten me? Who cared if he had lost a big chunk of himself and that made him unfamiliar now? I needed someone to help me in the middle of this black despair and I’d gladly take his offered embrace.
“I know,” he whispered. “So many of them. It’s awful. Hold on to me. I’ll keep you safe.”
I looked up at him, surprised that he sounded so much like himself.
He smiled at me – that warm, sweet smile I loved so much.
“I remembered that part,” he said softly. “The part where I want you safe more than anything. I can’t remember why or how. I just remember that if I lose you, I lose everything.”
He said it like a prayer, like a vow stronger than the one taking Kavva to her death. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to tell him I loved him. But I didn’t want to push him when he wasn’t ready for that.
Instead, I returned his smile with a broken one of my own and let myself cry in his arms as we flew. The whole world was overrun. And it was falling apart. And there didn’t seem to be any hope anymore.
But there was one thing I had the ability to change.
I could forgive Heron for his betrayal when he called to Atura instead of me. It hadn’t really been his fault, but I’d been holding it against him. I let it go.
I let all my disappointment go.
It was just him and me and Olfijum and Nasataa and Bareena. And we would do what we could. I forgave all the past. All the hurts. All the resentments. What was the point of holding onto anything in the face of this madness?
Oh, except for Atura.
I didn’t forgive her and her Bubblers.
I planned to beat them in this race. I planned to take every key and get Nasataa to the Haroc in time. And I planned to pour every bit of myself into that. Because if there was no other hope left, then we needed to do the one little thing we could do and just hope that somehow, someone greater than us was handling all the rest.
And if they weren’t, well at least we’d done what we could. No one could fault us for that.
The path had been set for us long in advance. The destination chosen. It was just up to us to walk in that path now.
I pulled out my little book from my pocket and opened it up and read the words of the prophecies as Heron hummed a lullaby in my ear – an island lullaby our mothers used to sing to us.
“For there is life in forgiveness and in the healing of the soul there is peace. In the giving of the heart comes a gift greater than that given, a treasure granted that overshadows sacrifice,” I read.
Nice thoughts, Olfijum offered. But I don’t think we’ll be finding peace or forgiveness anywhere. On the other hand, we were given a gift.
What gift?
That pool led us very close to the next test and key. If I’m right, it’s just up ahead. Not very far from the scene of an all-out war. Hopefully, you will get the key quickly so we can be gone from here before that war spreads. I do not relish the idea of being consumed by a black darkness. Oh, and I should mention something – I felt a flicker in Heron’s mind a moment ago – as if he really does remember some things from the past and part of him is almost willing to let me speak to him again.
I shivered, trying not to hope too much when it might just devastate me later and straining my eyes to see what Olfijum was looking at, but it was still too far away for human eyes.
An hour later, it was more obvious. A single stone tower soared up in the middle of the landscape. At the top of the tower was a small platform – maybe big enough for everyone with us but not many more – and a strange contraption I did not recognize.
I think that is the test.
Like a Blacksmith’s puzzle?
I don’t know. But there is a round box inside – like something you might keep gems in. And I suspect that your key lies within.
The Sentry that Kavva rode dove close to Olfijum who shied away, forcing Kavva to call to us.
“The Kah’deem lies ahead!”
I nodded. And she called again.
“Who are those people? Friends?”
I looked past the Kah’deem. I’d been so obsessed with our destination that I hadn’t realized there were figures in the distance, flying toward this Kah’deem from another direction.
I shook my head. I had no idea who they were, and to be honest, I didn’t even know where I was in Baojang or what direction that was.
West. They come from the west.
Who else would be looking for the Kah’deem?
One guess. And if you don’t guess Atura, I’m packing up and leaving.
Chapter Twelve
“We need to hurry,” I said, leaping from Heron’s arms and Olfijum’s back the moment the dragon’s feet hit the platform. My utter desperation was driving me in a way hope never had. It was more potent, more overwhelming than any feeling I’d ever felt before.
I was supposed to save them all. And unless I was very fast, I wasn’t going to have anything else left to save when this was over.
I thought Nasataa was the one meant to save them all.
Same thing.
No, it’s not.
I can help, Nasataa’s little
voice said proudly. Look! I’ve been carrying Bareena on my own.
I hadn’t been giving him enough attention, had I? He was the one who was the center of all of this, not me.
I hurried over to him and hugged his neck. He was getting so big! And did he feel even hotter?
He’s fine. Not sick, Olfijum weighed in. A fever can’t hurt someone who breathes fire.
He put his head up on my shoulder and I whispered to him, “You’ve done a great job! A really, really great job. But please let me protect you just a little longer. Until you’re a little bigger. Let me take this one last test for you.”
Nasataa snorted over my shoulder.
This is your part. My part comes later. Right?
Yes, that was right. I stroked his head gently and then turned to the contraption in the center of the platform – the Kah’deem that Kavva had been talking about.
It was a strange device that seemed to be formed of a dark metal. Handles lined with spikes just above my waist-level stood out like spokes from a wheel around a center cage of interwoven, twisted metal in layers like an onion. In the center of the metal was the sphere that Olfijum had called a box. And on the top of the cage was a decoration that looked like a key. A key with an arrow pointing down. If the key inside the Kah’deem had an arrow that pointed down, too, that would tell us south. I knew enough to watch for that now.
“Here she comes,” Bareena said to me, her eyes glowing. “Whatever happens in that test, don’t give up! We need you. But fast. Do well.”
The Sentries landed on the platform and Kavva looked serious as she strode over to us, her sword drawn again.
She raised her voice as if she was speaking to a crowd and not just the few of us gathered here.
“We have gathered here under the burning eye of the sun and in the presence of all who could be quickly gathered, to witness the trial and winnowing of Seleska, Seeker of the Key. We will witness this day and give true testimony to any who asks of what we have seen here. Are we agreed?”
“Yes!” her followers cried from their Sentries.
“Yes,” Heron and Bareena said a second later.
Kavva looked pleased. Behind her, the force bearing Atura toward the test grew larger. Had she found more Manticores? This group seemed to be almost double the size of the Manticore group she had led before. Had she recruited more along the way somehow?
“What our ancestors set in motion, let no man or woman interfere with. The Kah’deem shall test each heart and mind. It shall plumb you to the core. Only the one who opens the Kah’deem will claim the Key of the Ancients. Do the participants accept these terms?” Kavva intoned.
“Yes,” I said, surprised that she was sticking to some kind of script in the middle of a war. This was urgent!
Don’t mistake urgent for important, Olfijum reminded me.
“And if the women here fall today, their blood is on their own heads, for they chose this test. Are all agreed?”
“There’s only one of me,” I said, cautiously. Was someone else planning to challenge me for his? Was Kavva that one?
“Your challenger is late,” Kavva said, pointing toward the group of Manticores flying toward us. “But late doesn’t mean disqualified. If he or she arrives and wishes to fight, she shall join you in the test.”
“Then we need to hurry,” I said. Those ancestors had done everything they could to keep this test open for anyone to participate, but they sure hadn’t made things easy for the ones who were on their side.
“Are you agreed?” Kavva pressed.
“Yes,” I said.
“Then let us begin.” She led me to the Kah’deem and pointed at the handles covered in small spikes. “You must choose a handle and grip it. You will hold on throughout the duration of the test. If you break the hold, you will lose the chance to get the key. If you break an opponent’s hold or cause it to be broken, you will forfeit. Agreed?”
I nodded.
“Then let us begin.”
I grabbed the handle, wincing as the spikes bit into the flesh of my hand and then Kavva wrapped her grip around mine and squeezed. My blood spattered on the stone platform beneath my feet.
I cried out and Heron took a step toward me but Kavva held up a hand. “This is her test alone. None shall aid or hinder here. Remember honor.”
And then her grip was gone, and she was drawing back. Nothing seemed to be happening. Maybe the test was broken. It had stood here in the elements for years and years. Perhaps, it simply wasn’t working anymore. That could happen, right? Maybe there was some other way to open the Kah’deem and get the key.
I glanced at the others, but they were all staring at me with wide eyes. That didn’t make sense. I turned back toward the Kah’deem, worry creasing my forehead. What wasn’t I seeing here?
And then something shot through me and I saw a bright white light and everything else faded away.
Chapter Thirteen
I was clinging to the back of a dragon, barely hanging on. Beneath me, what was left of the city burned.
“All of them ... gone,” the Dragon Rider in front of me said in horror.
He bled from a dozen different places – minor wounds, but still enough to make him slump in the saddle. There were stragglers ahead of us, dragons and oosquer in twos and threes, fleeing with or without injured and dying riders. The mounts looked no better than their riders. One of the oosquer was streaming blood, his keening cries as awful as a human sob.
I didn’t dare look down. I didn’t want to think about who might be on the ground.
“They’ve almost caught us,” the Dragon Rider said. “Should we turn now and give those fleeing a little more time, or should we try to outrun them, every man for himself?”
Why was he asking me?
I glanced back at the ranks of Manticores forming behind us. Warriors clad in flowing red robes were mounted on them, rods in their hands. We’d seen what those rods could do in the battle just hours ago. We’d watched our friends and allies shredded, their memories plucked straight from their minds and as they stumbled around, confused, they were torn apart by the Manticores and then absorbed by those horrific black blobs. And that was before the silence. The awful, stunning silence and the periods of blindness. It hardly felt real. If the Drazenloft still held – if we could warn them there in time ...
Wait, that wasn’t my memory ... was it? I thought I was somewhere else. Somewhere far from here. I shook my head in confusion, looking down at my hands. Manly hands. Hands with wide palms.
I blinked. Why was I staring at my hands?
“Ko’roi?” the Rider asked a second time.
“Sorry?” I asked, shaking my head. It must be the blood loss.
“Should we turn and defend or scatter, Ko’roi?”
I was in Tor’s body, remembering his memories! Somehow this ... machine ... had taken it over! And now it was up to me to make this key decision. But I was no military leader!
I had a sudden feeling that my answer would make a difference not only for Tor and Ko’Torenth but also for the test back at the Kah’deem. I swallowed. What would Tor want? What would he say?
He would want to protect the Drazenloft. And, so did I.
“We need to risk it. If we scatter, they’ll pick us off one by one. If we stand together, the others who are fleeing might make it to the Drazenloft in time to warn them.”
Pain shot through me, so powerful that I couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t even scream. There was a flash and I was back on the platform, gripping the iron handle. I sucked in a gasp of breath. The pain was dulled. Still there. Not gone. But not as sharp, either.
On the other side of the Kah’deem another woman whimpered in pain and the drip, drip of her blood hitting the stones made me wet my lips in nervousness. My own palm screamed in pain.
I mustn’t let go.
How long had I been gone? Long enough for Atura to arrive and begin the test. Behind her, the Manticores and her Bubblers were arranged in a
half-circle. What decisions was she making in that test? Were they decisions that would hurt my people as surely as mine would hurt hers?
I was there with you. It was the right choice. A Drazenloft should be protected at all costs, Olfijum said in my mind.
Be strong, Sela!
I hoped Nasataa hadn’t been there, too. That had been too much for a young dragon. Too much violence. Too much tragedy. It was too much for me.
I was there. I’m proud of you.
It made me anxious that they were with me. What if I did something that they didn’t approve of? Worse- what if Atura and her people hurt them while I was gone?
They won’t. The test won’t work if Kavva shuts it off and she made it clear that she would if there was violence before it was complete.
But how –
No time for that. I think this test should open up the Kah’deem, Olfijum said.
That was the plan, alright.
And I think you did something right back there. Which means that maybe you can open it just a little.
And how would I do that?
Kavva is watching you intently. Her hand keeps flinching like she’s trying to subconsciously twist something. Try twisting that handle.
I tried. The spikes ground into my hand and as I gasped from the pain, something clicked, and a second layer of the cage opened up like a clock-work onion.
Yes!
I tried again but it wouldn’t budge.
My victory was short-lived.
This time, when the world shifted, I was almost expecting it.
Chapter Fourteen
My head ached. A heavy weight on it pushed it down, shoving into my neck and shoulders. I was a mass of pain from my head down to my aching, agonized leg. I tried to shift to ease the pain in my leg, but it didn’t move when I asked it to. Confused, I tried to look down, but something was in my way. I reached up to feel it with my hands.
A mask.
I was in the Dominar’s body, wasn’t I? No one else wore a mask like this one.
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