“N-N-Naleese? I mean, the um, the Lenka of the Urbik Valley?”
I stared at Gambler. Tobble stared at Gambler. Tobble and Renzo and I stared at each other. Then we noticed Khara staring at Gambler, so we stared at her. At which point, we all stared back at Gambler.
Was Gambler flustered?
Gambler?
Flustered?
He seemed to expect us to say something. But we were too curious and confused to react. Gambler had actually stuttered. Gambler, the felivet I’d seen, on more than one occasion, charge into near-certain death without seeming even mildly concerned.
“What are you all staring at?” he demanded.
“I think we’d better meet this Naleese,” Khara said. She nodded to a soldier, who ran from the tent.
“Well, I have no need to be here,” Gambler said, getting up to leave.
Khara shook a finger at him. “I’m afraid I really must insist that you stay.”
Gambler’s shoulders sagged. His tail dropped to the ground.
Naleese entered behind the soldier who’d retrieved her. Though stitches were visible down her flank, she moved like flowing liquid, a smaller, more lithe version of Gambler.
She dipped her head to Khara. “My Lady Kharassande Donati.”
“Welcome, Naleese B’del, Lenka of the Urbik River Valley,” Khara said. “Would you like food or drink?”
“No, my lady, I have been very well cared for by your kind ambassador, Byx of the dairnes.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m told you have a message. Two, actually.”
“I do. The message I was given by the foul valtti who rules Dreyland, along with a message from some of the felivets of Dreyland. The first is a call for all felivets of Nedarra to rise up against the Murdano.”
“I see,” Khara said. “And the other message?”
Naleese shifted her gaze to include Gambler. “My message is for the ears of the Lonko of the Dread Forest.”
Khara nodded. “Gambler, will you hear this message now? Or would you like to withdraw to hear it in private?”
Gambler sighed. “I am happy to share it with you, my lady.”
Khara nodded at Naleese.
“I greet you, my long-ago mate,” said Naleese, “whom my heart has never forgotten.”
Now it was my mouth hanging open. I shot my eyes right. Yes, Tobble was equally shocked. And Renzo. And Khara. And Sabito. And if Havoc had been in the tent, I suspect he’d have been shocked as well.
“I say to you,” Naleese continued, “that I treasure our time together on the Isle of Scholars, where we studied philosophy and astronomy.” Her voice was low and rough, like a ragged lullaby. “When Tobble of the Bossyp wobbyks spoke your name, I knew I had to speak to you.”
Every eye turned on Gambler. “I too . . . treasure . . . our, um, time together.”
“I am glad to hear it. It may interest you to know that you have three kits, two female, one male.”
“I . . . congratulations?” Gambler managed. He blinked. “That’s good. Yes, good. The more young felivets in the world, the better.”
“Why, Gambler, you rogue!” said Bodick, slapping her thigh. “You’ve got yourself some kittens!”
“Kits,” Naleese corrected.
“That’s what wobbyks call our babies, too,” said Tobble. “Also kidlets. And wibbles.”
“You didn’t know you had children?” Renzo asked, shaking his head.
Naleese answered for Gambler. “It is not the habit of male felivets to involve themselves closely with their offspring.”
“Is this your message, then?” Khara asked.
“No, my lady. My message is this. The felivets of Dreyland have been corrupted, manipulated, and used by the valtti who styles himself Kazar. But many good and true felivets resist, and many more would, but for threats the valtti has made against their kits.”
Gambler suddenly found his voice. “Does he threaten your . . . our kits?”
“He holds them hostage in his dungeon. My message is not about that alone, but for all the felivets of Dreyland. All our Lonkos are dead. Only two Lenkas survive, but we are watched constantly. Our people need a leader. Our people need a wise, strong, and good leader. Our people need you, Elios Str’ank, Hadrak the Third, Lonko of the Dread Forest. Will you come to Dreyland? Will you lead us against this valtti usurper?”
“Will I . . . what?”
Khara looked to General Varis, and their eyes met. I could see they were both intrigued by this development.
General Varis said, “What exactly do you propose, Naleese?”
“If the Kazar were dead, or at least out of power, his army would not invade Nedarra. There would be no war.”
“The Murdano’s navy would still sail,” said Bodick.
“We have the word of Queen Pavionne that the natites will stop the Murdano’s navy,” Renzo said.
Khara held up a hand for silence. We waited while she considered. After a moment, she spoke directly to Gambler.
“Tell me, old friend,” she said, “is this a mission you would undertake?”
29
A Farewell
In the evening, we gathered around a fading campfire. It was quite late, and we were all exhausted. But it felt so good to be back together that we couldn’t seem to let the night end.
I felt as if I were home, strange as it was to think of an army on the move that way. I was relieved, too, to once again have followed through on Khara’s directive. Twice I’d been tasked with diplomacy. And twice I’d accomplished my goal—although not without pain, bloodshed, and tears.
Gambler was stretched out next to me, his belly exposed to the glowing embers.
“I never knew you had children,” I said to him. “Kits, I mean.”
“Nor did I. As Naleese explained, it is not the custom for males of my kind—for a Lonko—to raise kits—”
“How very convenient,” Renzo interrupted.
“But the thought of my progeny in a dungeon . . .” Gambler shook his head.
“So is Naleese your wife?” Tobble asked.
“We don’t form lifelong partnerships,” Gambler replied. “That is the way of humans. But she is someone I, well, care for.”
“Have you considered that this could be a trap?” Sabito asked from his perch on a tree limb.
“No,” I said. “Naleese spoke what she believed to be the truth.”
“I have no choice.” Gambler sighed. “If it is true that I can raise a force of felivets in Dreyland and stop this monstrous valtti, it is my duty to try. He is a traitor to my kind.”
Naleese joined us, almost unnoticed. Like Gambler, she moved silently. She settled near him. Softly he brushed the side of his head against hers. I knew nothing of felivet romance, but it certainly looked to me like a gesture of affection.
“We must go,” Gambler said, and Naleese nodded. “But it will be with a heavy heart. I don’t know when, or whether, I shall see any of you again.”
Tobble pulled the last bite of toasted willowbean from a charred stick. “How will you get across the mountains?”
Gambler laughed. “We are felivets, not wobbyks, Tobble. We will move by night, unseen. We have no need to carry wagons full of supplies. We will hunt as we move.” He stretched and stood. “You are ready, Naleese?”
It dawned on me that he meant to leave immediately. “No!” I blurted. “You can’t leave tonight.”
“Time of is the essence,” Gambler said.
“I know, but . . .” I looked at Khara for help, but she just shook her head. “We just got here,” I said in a lame voice. “And what about Naleese? She’s still recovering.”
“I’m fine, Ambassador,” she replied. “And we must hurry. Our kits . . .”
“Of course,” I said, embarrassed by my selfishness.
Our goodbyes were brief and simple. Felivets distrust sentiment. And we were soldiers of a sort, after all.
Gambler and Naleese moved into the shadows as the rest o
f us watched.
“Gambler!” I called after him.
He stopped and looked back. His eyes caught the firelight, glowing like tiny yellow moons.
I ran to him. “I’ve done some foolish things and some wise things, Gambler,” I said. “But perhaps the wisest thing I ever did was trust you.”
“I might say the same about you,” he replied. He gave a little nod. “Be well, my friend.”
Within seconds, the two great cats were invisible, as much a part of the velvety evening as the black forest surrounding us.
It was difficult to sleep that night. I heard Tobble shifting in his bedroll and knew that he, too, was awake.
“Do you remember that moment when Gambler turned to face the Knight of the Fire? Alone?” I asked.
“How could I forget?” Tobble sniffled. “And remember all the times he threatened to eat me?”
I laughed. “And yet here you are, safe and sound. His growl was far worse than his bite.”
“Sometimes,” said Tobble, managing a laugh. “I wonder if I’ll ever ride atop a felivet again, Byx.”
“I know you will.”
“I mean that felivet. Our felivet.”
“We’ll see Gambler again, Tobble. I’m sure of it.”
We went on and on, sharing our favorite Gambler stories, as if by talking we could keep him there with us. At last we drifted off, but we weren’t asleep for long. It was still dark, though a faint gray light was just rising in the east, when Renzo shook me awake.
“What? Are we under attack?”
“No,” Renzo said. “But we have news. The Murdano’s navy has left port. It’s on its way to the coast of Dreyland.”
Tobble and I both sat up, suddenly alert.
“The natites?” I said.
“Yes, the natites will stop them, or at least most of them. Also, Khara’s learned that there are gulls in Saguria flying to the Kazar to report on the navy’s movement. The Kazar won’t know that the ships will never actually reach Dreyland.”
“What does that mean for us?” Tobble asked.
Renzo paced, hands clenched behind his back. “The Kazar will only know that the Murdano is attacking. He’ll respond by pushing the terramant attack to begin. We have to move, and quickly, to stop them.”
I stood. “We leave today?”
“As soon as possible,” Renzo answered. “There’s very little time. Perhaps too little time.”
Within hours, we were off, an entire army moving resolutely toward an uncertain future.
It was not an easy march. I’ve traveled many difficult paths since being driven from my home. But nothing can compare to the grinding exhaustion of crossing the Perricci Mountains with howling winds and snow up to my chest.
Woad’s battered, weary men joined us to act as guides, but they could do nothing for the sickness that came as we climbed higher. It seemed as if our lungs would no longer fill. Each breath was meager. My head hurt constantly. My limbs, often numb, felt as heavy as lead.
Frostbite began to claim victims. Human ears and noses froze. Khara was constantly on the move, first riding, and then walking on snowshoes Woad had provided. She went up and down the beleaguered line of troops, cajoling, reassuring, and inspiring by example. None of the warriors was about to complain or fall out, so long as their young leader could still go on.
It was four days before we crested the ridge. Sabito flew ahead to scout and returned with reassuring news that the terramant outbreak hadn’t yet happened. He saw no sign of the Murdano’s army.
If the attack by the Kazar’s army and the terramants came before the Murdano’s troops arrived, we knew we would have to try to stop them ourselves. If the forces of the Murdano and the Kazar ended up confronting each other directly on the Zebaran plains, the Army of Peace could try to get the two sides to negotiate.
Either we would have to fight the Dreylanders alone, or we’d be trapped between two warring armies.
Neither option sounded promising.
We faced three challenges, Khara had told me, what seemed like ages ago. I’d helped with the first two. We had the natites and the wobbyks on our side, not to mention the ragglers and raptidons.
But that was easy. It was diplomacy. Listening. Talking. Persevering.
Would that be enough?
I remembered Khara’s words, that night in her tent: “We’ll either stop the war and prevail, or we’ll die trying.”
If it came to that last challenge—to the fighting—what help could I really be?
I was just a dairne, the runt of my litter.
The one who refused to leap into a silly lake.
I’d been in a few fights since then. Redeemed myself a bit. But in the battle we might well soon face, I’d be useless.
30
Khara’s Decision
When we at last reached the highest point in the pass, the sky cleared. The sun caroming off the snow and ice was almost blinding, the air dry but bitter cold. We were boxed in on both sides by steep mountains, and we couldn’t yet see our objective, the Zebaran plains, as there were still peaks ahead.
Nonetheless, we found a way to view our goal. Some long-forgotten power had built a tall stone ziggurat in the middle of the pass, a narrow pyramid with a sloping pathway cut into the sides.
Khara invited General Varis, Renzo, Tobble, and me to climb with her. Fortunately, the path was just wide enough to allow our horses to do the hard work of climbing, at least as far as the second platform, a wide space high above the ground.
“What a view!” Tobble exclaimed. “It’s like being a raptidon!”
“It’s amazing,” I agreed, as we tied off the horses with feedbags. We rested and refreshed ourselves and added whatever other warm garments we’d not yet donned. At that giddy altitude, even dairne fur was no match for the cutting wind.
From that last platform, perhaps two-thirds of the way up the ziggurat, we proceeded on foot. It wasn’t an easy climb for any of us, but Tobble, with his short legs, struggled to keep up.
“Come, friend wobbyk,” said General Varis. “Hop aboard my shoulders.”
I was struck, not for the first time, by Tobble’s ability to charm large, dangerous members of other species. He now counted both a felivet and a fierce human warrior as good friends.
Up we went, dragging ourselves through the unforgiving air, until Khara stopped. With the last of my energy, I plowed on until I was beside her and the others on a small, snow-dusted platform.
Tobble climbed off the general’s shoulders and hugged me tightly. “That’s a long way down!”
“It is,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, even as I was calculating how long it would take to tumble down the mountain to my inevitable death.
From our perch, we could see a slice of the Zebaran plains, free of snow. Just beyond lay the mountains where we knew the terramants were tunneling. Soon they would pour out like lava, destroying all in their path.
“Snow comes late to the plains,” General Varis told us. “The mountains hold back the weather until later in the year.”
Sabito sailed over, landing on a railing. “What have you seen?” Khara asked.
“A force of three dozen soldiers on horses. They wear the livery of the Murdano.”
General Varis said a rude word, his eyes blazing. “Cavalry scouts sent out ahead of the main force, no doubt. This isn’t good. If they behave the way scouts usually do, then the main force is perhaps a day behind, maybe two at most.”
Khara nodded, her face grim. “The Murdano’s army has come up from the south through the gap. They must have learned about the planned terramant attack.”
“Just as we feared,” said Renzo.
“If the terramants break through, there’s no power in the world that can stop total war,” said General Varis.
“Between the two armies, they’ll burn every village, every crop. They’ll use the people as thralls.” Khara rubbed the back of her neck. “And they’ll do worse. I fear for those innocent
people. They’re like butterflies on an anvil, waiting for a hammer to come down.”
“It’s a three-day march to the center of the Zebaran plains,” General Varis said, his voice oddly subdued.
“By then . . .” Renzo trailed off.
“By then, we’ll have failed,” Khara said. “Thousands, tens of thousands will die. The land will be drenched in blood.”
“Maybe Gambler can turn the tide inside Dreyland,” Renzo suggested.
“Maybe,” Khara said. “But not in time, not if the terramants break through.”
“It seems we have no way to stop them,” General Varis said bluntly.
For several minutes, no one spoke, our minds feverish with the horror of what was to come.
General Varis, ever the military man looking to pull off a victory, was the first to offer a suggestion. “The Rebit River runs through the Zebaran plains,” he said, pointing. “If by chance the terramants emerged on one side, and the Murdano’s army was on the other bank . . .”
“The Rebit’s shallow,” Khara said. “I’ve waded there in spots where the water was no higher than my knees. It wouldn’t hold back either side.”
The general started to respond, but Khara silenced him with a slight gesture. She was deep in thought, her brow creased, eyes straining.
At last she spoke. “General Varis, you said it was a three-day march for our army. How long would it take determined riders on the best horses?”
Tobble and I exchanged a worried look.
General Varis shrugged. “A strong rider bringing spare horses with him might do it in a day.”
Khara seemed pleased with his answer. “I seldom give orders, General. In most cases, I’m happy to leave that to you, but this is an order only I can give. I’m going to need two strong horses. They’ll carry one human rider.” She turned her dark, sorrowful eyes on me. “And provisions for that human and one dairne.”
So Khara had a plan. A plan that involved me.
“Byx, you’ll ride Taboo,” she said.
My heart lurched, but I gave a firm nod. If she wanted me to go, I would, and willingly.
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