The Endless Skies

by Shannon Price

  Next to me, Exin turns, and we lock eyes. The names and faces of the warriors in our cohort flash in my mind as I think through who might be picked. Exin—he’s a swift flyer. Sethran will go, I think. I pray to the skies that I’ll be on his team.

  The sentinels cannot go themselves. During their swearing-in ceremonies, they vow to always remain on the Heliana as a sign of their devotion to the king. It’s the same reason they are not allowed to marry while in the king’s direct service. So long as he lives, he is their highest priority.

  A looming dread creeps into my mind. The Heliana’s magic is strongest close to the city, and it drains like water from a leaky bucket when we’re too far from it. If I’m chosen, my wings will only carry me so far into Balmora. Eventually, the magic will run out. We will be confined to our human forms and forced to make our way on foot.

  The Ninth Sentinel calls out the names.

  4

  ROWAN

  Shirene’s voice echoes around the Glass Tower, strangely familiar and unnatural at the same time. “She’s the King’s Voice,” I whisper. “I can’t believe it.”

  “He needed one,” Vera replies. “It’s a great honor.”

  I nod my agreement. It’s the kind of thing Shirene would never ask for, though. I wonder which of the other sentinels spoke up for her, or if the king chose her blindly.

  Teams fill up between hushed cheers. As groups of four file out of the hall together, my heart sinks like a boulder into a river. No warriors-elect are being called. Stealing glances at my peers, I’m met with concerned expressions and furrowed brows. The ones with younger siblings find strength in one another’s gazes.

  “We should be allowed to go,” says a deep voice that is unmistakably Bel’s. Skies keep him, he is not great at whispering. “We can take the oath now.” I turn my head a tiny bit so he knows I heard him and agree.

  My heart pounds. Ox. Callen. Ox. Callen. I don’t want either of them to go—but how selfish is that, when I would love to be on a team?

  “The final team,” Shirene calls out, “will be commanded by warrior Sethran.”

  “Oh no,” I whisper.

  To Shirene’s credit, she doesn’t so much as flinch. She’s always been cool under pressure. It’s one of the things I respect most about her.

  “Next, warrior Callen.”

  Callen stands. He is not so far from me that I don’t notice the pale blue earring on his left ear. No. My heart lurches—first he tells me he loves me, and now he’s leaving.

  Skies, he’d better come home. My mother loves him like her own son. And me? It’s Ox who makes me feel the most alive, the most free … but Callen is steady. He has always been there for me. I would have no idea what to do if he died.

  I’m too caught up in my own thoughts to realize that Shirene’s called the next name. His silhouette is contrasted by the sun, sending his shadow so far that it almost touches my feet. Cheers of support rise at his name. Ox.

  “No,” I whisper. “Not all of you.”

  “They’ll be okay,” Vera says quietly. “They’ll be fine.”

  I swallow, trying in vain to believe she’s right. Going into the humans’ lands is dangerous enough as a lion. Magic wanes as you go farther inland. It’s why most of the battles between Leonodai and the humans happen at sea or near the Cliffs. Fighting in your human form has spelled death for Leonodai since the humans created guns.

  Shirene adds Exin as the final member of their team, then closes the scroll. “Remaining warriors and warriors-elect, you are dismissed. Remember, the king compels you to remain quiet. The city knows you were called, but you are not to give the specifics of your fellow warriors’ mission. The city’s healers and teachers have been made aware so they can help in containing the disease, but no other citizens need know. An urgent need calls warriors to Balmora. That is all.”

  Teachers, I think, drawing a small sense of reassurance from that knowledge. At least my mother will know, then. At least I’ll have someone to talk through this news with.

  I list their names in my head again and again. Seth, patient and commanding. Exin, eager and battle-ready. Callen, careful in a fight and my oldest friend. Ox, with his arrows and wit.

  They are going. And I am not.

  The rest of us are dismissed, and some Leonodai not on team fly out right away, eager to reach loved ones and check if they’re all right. Turning, I seek out Bel and head over to him.

  “Hey,” I say. “I’m with you. Let’s go ask if we can take the oath early. All we need is the king to speak the words.” I don’t need the songs and pageantry, though a part of me aches at the idea of going without them.

  “The teams have been named,” he replies sullenly. “Look, I know. But we can be useful here. Keeping the citizens calm while still being ready to go if asked is as honorable as being put on a team.”

  My shoulders drop. “You really think so?”

  “Yes, and you know better. The king commanded that warriors be sent,” he says. “And warriors are going. We’re needed here. If the humans catch one of the teams, then they may launch a counterattack. And without all of the warriors, they’ll need us. We can all play a part. Loyalty above all.”

  I give Bel a smile. “Way to drop our people’s motto on me.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” he says, with a touch to my shoulder—the Leonodai sign of goodwill. He flies out with the other warriors-elect, but something in my gut makes me linger. Vera waits for me, but I tell her to go on ahead.

  Everything Bel said is true, but I can’t stop from thinking on one last-ditch effort. The Glass Tower is nearly empty now. A few warriors remain, trading words of encouragement with the sentinels. I see who I’m looking for by the Second Sentinel, her fingers still wrapped around the fateful scroll.

  I march determinedly up to my sister. “Lady Shirene.”

  She turns at her name and frowns. “Warrior-Elect Rowan, I do not have time.”

  “Lady Shirene, please.” I touch my right hand to her shoulder. “Let me join a team.”

  “What?”

  “Please. Just consider it.”

  Her lips purse, but she exhales in defeat. “Meet me at the Princess Garden. On the hour.”

  5

  SHIRENE

  One of the palace attendants offers me a glass of water, and I take it eagerly.

  I feel bad for snapping at Ro, but she was out of line. At least when we’re like this, sentinel and warrior-elect. I outrank her. Still, Rowan’s always been eager to help, even if that help isn’t asked for. I put up with her following at my heels for years. Not being on a team must be killing her.

  But you’re a sentinel, I remind myself. My loyalty is to the king and the citizens first. Besides, Rowan’s not the only one in pain.

  I look over at Seth.

  His arms are crossed as he waits with his team. Callen keeps close next to him, his hand to his chin in concentration. The other two, warriors Ox and Exin, speak quietly to each other, the former taking in the other teams and the latter with his hand firmly on his broadsword.

  The four of them will do well together, I reassure myself. Seth will be just fine. When Sentinel Renna presented her thoughts on the teams, she carefully described each individual’s skills to the king. As head of all the warriors’ training, she spoke with a level of certainty that no one else on the Heliana could match.

  I had wanted to mimic her confidence today in my own speech to the warriors—but my feet ache, and it feels like a lifetime since I didn’t have bags under my eyes. Too many urgent meetings with the king, the healers, and the scholars. Too many hurried steps from one end of the palace to the next. Too many haunting cries from mothers and fathers whose children are overheating with fever.

  Sentinels Carrick and Hammond quiet the group and call everyone to attention while Renna makes her way around the room and hands out scrolls to each of the commanders.

  “Each of these contains a detailed map of Balmora, as we best know it,” s
ays Hammond. “Still, you will be going farther than that.”

  “Lord Hammond, sir,” calls a voice. Warrior Io, with her shaved head and fierce glare, gets his attention. “How many children are sick?”

  Hammond pauses a moment. “There are fifteen presently in the healers’ care.”

  A hushed gasp sweeps the room, and I feel the sting of Hammond’s words strike close to home. Literally.

  All my training couldn’t prepare me for the sight of the familiar Storm’s End insignia on the dead girls’ shoes as their places in the sick room were cleaned up. The Heliana has three schools, each with a slightly different approach to care and lessons. My mother, Matron Talla, ran Storm’s End, which focused on the arts like music, pottery, and writing. For Rowan and me, that care was a way of life until we were each thirteen and followed in our father’s footsteps to warrior training. Storm’s End is home. I know sure as the skies that Mother is strong enough to cope with almost anything. Anything but watching her girls die.

  Hammond continues. “Also on the scroll is a drawing of the cure you seek. I know it does not appear to be much,” he says, “but the scholars are sure of its power. They say each child will need a ‘petal a year, a stem a season.’ We don’t know how many children will get sick, so when you find the cure, you’re to collect as much of it as you are able.”

  “What of the crown prince, my Sentinel Hammond?” I recognize Callen’s voice and find him standing next to Sethran. Callen shifts his stance, arms folded and head held high. “Skies keep us, but the prince is young. What will be done if he, too, gets the disease?”

  Hammond considers this. “Your question is one that I’m sure many others share. But to put your mind at ease, the crown prince is not sick.” The very walls seem to exhale. “Crown Prince Tabrol has been quarantined in the royals’ private chambers. Every precaution is being taken.”

  Callen bows his head again and steps back. I wonder how Rowan feels about him being on a team. The day they met changed our lives—he and Rowan took to each other like flowers and summer rain. Part of me always suspected he was in love with her, but the rumors of the Warriors’ Hall travel far. I would have heard of it by now.

  It’s Carrick’s turn to speak. The red-haired sentinel goes on to explain the flight pattern the warriors will take. Noam told us the cure used to thrive on the southeastern side of Balmora, and that is where we are sending the teams. “We have reason to believe the flower may be inside the human city called Ramsgate,” says Carrick. “Should you not find the cure outside the city, you are to sneak inside. But do your best to remain undetected. We want to give the humans no reason to provoke us or the other kingdoms.”

  Again, we leave Noam out of the conversation. It was Renna who had first suggested keeping him out of our message to the warriors and the other kingdoms, but I seconded the plan. The city needed focus and simplicity. There was no point in relighting embers of gossip that had been put out months ago.

  Hammond and Carrick take more questions from the teams.

  “How long will the journey be?” someone asks.

  “We estimate no more than ten days’ time,” Carrick replies. “Five days to find it, five days to return. You should pace yourselves accordingly to ensure you last the whole journey.”

  More questions ring out, but I know the answers already, and my gaze wanders to Seth. He knows the weight of responsibility he and the teams carry. Callen was right to worry about the price, but if the disease begins to strike adults as well … At the rate it kills, our people could be decimated in a matter of weeks. I shouldn’t think like that, but I can’t help it.

  When the questions ebb, Carrick and Hammond dismiss the warriors to a mixture of murmurs and hushed whispers of reassurance.

  “Lyreina, Shirene,” says Sentinel Renna. “Stay here and give the teams support as needed, but don’t linger long. Afterward, make your presence known to the citizens. It’ll help keep the people calm to see us enjoying the festival, for however long we can.” She exhales, straightening up farther, though I know she’s been awake at least as long as I have, if not longer.

  When she goes, I walk an arc through the room. The team leaders speak to their reports about strategy. Seeing so many warriors ready for battle eases my worry. We have trained for this. They’ll be fine.

  “Sentinel Shirene,” calls Seth, and I am undone.

  “Warrior Sethran,” I say, using his full name purposely. “What is it?”

  He bows his head. “Congratulations on being named the King’s Voice.”

  “This is hardly a moment for flattery, warrior.” I exhale with a smile. “You have to ask me a question.”

  “Is the cure what the scholars say it is?” Seth asks.

  “Skies, I hope so.”

  “And will you wait for me?”

  I can’t keep back my smile. “Yes, of course.”

  Seth smiles, and I try to memorize the kindness in his eyes, the stubble at his chin, and the thin scar near his left eye that I gave him early into our training days. I felt awful about it back then, but now that I’ve traced it with my fingertips on many moonlit nights, I thank the skies he didn’t take care of the wound as the healers instructed.

  “Will you have a moment,” he asks, “before we leave?”

  “I have to go into the city now,” I say. Well, the Princess Garden first. “But there should be time. We will have time.” To say goodbye and to make him promise to come home at any cost.

  The love of my life smiles. “We will have time.”

  6

  ROWAN

  I go to the spot right away, though I know Shirene won’t join me for a while. I need answers.

  Sheltered from the ever-present winds, the Princess Garden is a beloved place for Leonodai. Today, families wander through the lush greenery while couples find solace in the garden’s shady alcoves. Sprigs of violet flowers jut into the air between dots of soft yellow blossoms. Pale green stalks reach their fingers skyward, their sturdy blooms curling outward.

  I take a seat on a low stone wall that divides one part of the garden from another, shifting so that I remain in the sunlight. My mind spins as I try to build up my argument for Shirene, just as children build up castles in the coarse sand on the banks of the Crescent River. I have to go with a team. I have to do something other than sit still.

  I wait for the better part of an hour. Finally, Shirene appears, stepping around the corner with the fine fabric of her dress flowing like water behind her. We share our parents, but that’s where the resemblance between me and my sister ends. Her fine, pale blond hair falls straight to her shoulders, while my dark brown waves go nearly all the way down my back. Where she can hold her tongue, I never want to. With seven years between us, we aren’t as close as some sisters are, but she is all I have.

  “Shirene,” I say, the desperation rising in my voice as I hop off my makeshift seat. I don’t use her title. Here, she is just my sister. Here, she is my last chance. “Put me on a team. I can help.”

  “We have to do as the king commands,” she replies.

  I wave my hands, like, Come on. “We both know those names did not come from the king. You and the other sentinels know the warriors better. You paired everyone in teams that worked well together. Was Renna in charge of it? I noticed her at training this week.” It wasn’t hard to spot the older sentinel’s uniform as we ran drills. I hadn’t thought much of it until now.

  I had figured it all out while I waited. Beyond having compatible skill sets, Callen would follow Seth anywhere. It felt like every time we hung out in the past months, he’d talk about some amazing thing Seth had taught him and how much it was fueling the fire of his goal to become a sentinel someday. And while Exin may be Callen’s friend, Exin and Ox are cousins, and family ties go far. They all balance one another. Or at least they will, so long as Callen and Ox’s feelings for me don’t come up.…

  “There are plenty of other teams just as good among the warriors-elect,” I say.
>
  “Rowan—”

  “I could go with Vera, Bel, and Maurin,” I say. “Renna can pick a warrior to lead us, if she wants. You just have to ask the king to let us go.”

  Shirene exhales hard. “I already did.”

  “What?”

  “It was the Second Sentinel’s idea, actually, not mine. But I supported his motion. The sentinels know the warriors-elect are ready. But the king has much to consider. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and we all know he is thinking of Tabrol. The king is sending the best we have.”

  I scoff. “And we’re not the best?”

  “Skies, don’t be so selfish, Ro. You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I do. But what if—”

  “I know, Ro.” The finality in her tone gets to me. “What if.”

  It’s one thing if I’m worried about the city, our people. It’s a whole other thing to see the fear in Shirene’s eyes and to know that my sister is just like me. Afraid.

  “Please,” I say. “You have no idea how it feels to be helpless right now.”

  Shirene takes my hand and gives it an encouraging squeeze. Her fingers are cold. Look, “I’m sorry. But if you heard what Noam said of the disease, you would know that we don’t have time to question what’s already been decided. We have to send the teams we have right now.”

  “Who’s Noam?” I ask reflexively, but already something is dawning in my mind. Why did I know that name—oh. “Wait, Noam? The sentinel who deserted? The one whose place you took. What does he have to do with anything?”

  Shirene curses, and my curiosity soars. I haven’t heard her swear since the first time I cursed in front of our mother, and I confessed it was Shirene who taught me how.

  “Skies. Okay. Let me explain, and don’t interrupt.” My sister’s glossy hair moves in waves as she talks. “There is a human village in the mountains of Balmora. Not many humans go themselves because it’s too far. After he left, Noam sought refuge there. The humans welcomed him, and he’s lived there ever since.”