by Jenn Reese
ALUNA RAN TOWARD a patch of rocks and scrubby trees, trying to reach its shade before the next wave of pain struck. The sun’s gaze followed her, searing the air and stifling the wind. The desert was no place for a Kampii, especially not a Kampii whose legs would soon begin fusing into a tail.
She stumbled and fell. Sand matted to the sweat on her face as she rolled on the ground, clutching her legs. The pain was her fault. She’d swallowed the Ocean Seed a month ago, when she was trying to rescue her sister from that evil monster Fathom. Now she was paying the price.
Underwater, a tail granted speed and agility. It shimmered and flowed. Growing a tail marked a Kampii’s passage to adulthood and respect. But in the desert, weeks away from the ocean’s embrace, a tail meant the opposite. It meant she’d no longer be able to walk or run or jump or fight. She’d be a fish on dry land. Useless.
When the pain ebbed, Aluna sat up and wiped the grit from her cheeks. She ran her hand over her ankles and calves, feeling for scales. Nothing. Only dark, tough Kampii skin. She tugged her cloth head wrap to better shade her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. She needed to tell Hoku about her legs. He was her best friend, and he deserved the truth.
But she’d been the one who insisted they come here, straight from their battle with Fathom. She’d wanted to warn the Equians about Karl Strand and his twisted clones. To stop Strand before he got a foothold in the desert. To help Dash protect his herd. They were all counting on her — not just Hoku and Dash and Calli, but all the Kampii back in the City of Shifting Tides. The Elders were smarter than her and Hoku, and the hunters, like her brothers, were stronger and faster. But none of them had legs. For better or for worse, the rest of the Kampii were trapped beneath the waves while she and Hoku tried to save them all.
Aluna needed to stay strong. Telling her friends about her weakness would make them worry. It would make them doubt her . . . as she was already doubting herself.
A familiar voice sounded in the distance. “Aluna?”
She turned as a tiny figure crested an outcropping of rock behind her. Hoku. She recognized his thin frame under the flowing desert tunic and pants that Dash insisted they all wear. She had no more time for self-pity. Aluna waved and stood slowly, testing her legs. Today they obeyed her. She dreaded the moment when they would stop.
She met Hoku halfway, excuses roiling in her mind like storm-tossed waves. But when she saw the wide-eyed expression on his freckled face, saw the tufts of reddish-brown hair escaping his hastily affixed head wrap, she knew she wouldn’t need them.
“Mirage!” Hoku said. “Calli spotted it on the horizon. We can make it by high sun if we hurry.” He grinned beneath a sunburned nose. “I’ve been dreaming about fresh water and real food for days.”
She fell in beside him as they walked back toward camp. “Real food and maybe a place to sleep that isn’t crawling with bugs,” she said with a shudder. They’d had some rough nights in the last few weeks. Scorpions tasted good enough when cooked, but she didn’t enjoy finding them in her bedroll.
“And the tech,” Hoku said wistfully. “Surviving in the desert is so different from surviving underwater. I bet they’ve got stuff we’ve never even imagined.”
Mirage. The greatest Equian city. Dash had been filling their heads with stories about it since the day they left the HydroTek dome — the marketplace full of people, the brightly woven rugs, the smell of roasted delicacies filling the air, the word-weavers stomping their hooves and telling tales for the crowds, the artisans crafting the Equians’ famed ever-sharp swords. Dash said they had so much water that it bubbled and flowed in a great fountain in the marketplace, and anyone who wanted could come up and drink their fill. Her heart beat faster every time Dash, his eyes bright as glowfish, spun another tale of Mirage’s wonder.
It had been easy to get caught up in Dash’s excitement. She’d laughed with the others and talked about grilled rabbit and all the new weapons she wanted to learn. It had been important to keep everyone’s spirits up while they were hot and sweaty and living off bugs and berries. But the truth was, Dash would be in terrible danger the moment they set foot in Mirage. If someone from his old herd recognized him, they’d be fighting for Dash’s life along with the fate of the desert.
Despite the danger, Dash still wouldn’t tell them the details of his exile. In a small way, that made Aluna feel better about keeping her growing tail a secret. They’d been through so much, and yet . . . some words were still too hard to say.
When Aluna and Hoku got back to camp, Dash was kicking out the remains of their campfire and gnawing on a tough piece of cactus. He wore his desert clothes with the ease of one born and raised in the unforgiving heat. His nose never burned; the light-brown skin of his hands tanned only slightly. Even though he didn’t have a horse body like the other Equians, Dash belonged here in the desert, just as she and Hoku belonged under the waves.
And just as Calli belonged in the sky. Aluna looked up and saw Calli two dozen meters up, her tawny wings flapping lazily as she circled over the camp, her long brown hair trapped under a head wrap. The girl waved and Aluna smiled.
“Mirage!” Calli pointed to the west and her white teeth flashed in a grin, a stark contrast to her dirty face.
“So I heard,” Aluna said. She bent down and helped Dash roll up the last of their bedding.
“Are you well?” Dash asked quietly. “You ran off so suddenly, I thought —”
“I’m fine,” Aluna said. “I just needed some time by myself. I used to swim off all the time underwater. It’s just more noticeable up here.” Which wasn’t a lie, not really. She’d always been darting off on her own or with Hoku, either avoiding her sister and brothers or escaping from her father.
Dash stared at her another moment while she finished the packing, then nodded once. Another person might have kept hounding her — Hoku certainly would have — but not Dash.
Aluna’s nervousness about her legs disappeared as they trekked toward Mirage. She was tired of rationing her water, of always being thirsty. Once they got to the city, she planned to drink at that fountain for days. She wasn’t alone in her good mood. Dash scrambled up each new hill, quick as a sand crab, and Hoku couldn’t stop whistling. The wind had picked up, so Calli folded her wings against her back and walked with them, her mouth an endless stream of questions and facts and observations about the world.
“Do you think High Khan Onggur will welcome us?” Calli said. “My mother is very powerful. Maybe he’ll treat us like visiting royalty.”
Dash laughed, an easy sound Aluna didn’t hear nearly enough. “Red Sky herd is renowned for its battle prowess, and High Khan Onggur is a man of great honor,” he said. “He has taken the Gold Disc in the Thunder Trials for the last ten years in a row. I have no doubt that we will be treated with respect once he learns of our mission.”
“Mirage belongs to Red Sky?” Aluna asked. She wanted to keep him talking, to keep the smile from fading from his face.
“Their ancestral home, yes,” he said. “The largest of our cities, for the largest of our herds.”
“And there definitely won’t be any people from your herd here?” Hoku asked.
Dash’s smile disappeared. “Shining Moon? No. They rarely travel this far east.” Aluna wished he’d talk about his exile. Maybe she could help, or at least find a way to make him feel better.
Calli gasped. Aluna looked up and immediately saw why.
For weeks, they’d been traveling through a flat, parched expanse of cracked earth and sand, brittle shrubs, and jagged rocks that extended all the way to the distant mountains crouched at the horizon. Now a massive domed city flickered in and out of view a mere hundred meters in front of them. Aluna saw it one moment — a sprawl of squat buildings, banners of red and black, a haze of
thick smoke — and in the next, only desert again.
Hoku whistled. “That’s some tech.”
“Projections and mirrors,” Dash said proudly.
Mirage was hidden, Aluna thought, just like the Kampii’s City of Shifting Tides, and just like the Aviars’ mountaintop city of Skyfeather’s Landing. The ancients had protected them all.
“Come,” Dash said. “Let us speak with High Khan Onggur. And then I will find us rooms in the Market District — rooms with actual beds and basins of cool water and the best food you have ever eaten!”
Hoku and Calli cheered. Aluna laughed. It had been such a long trek, and they were so close to completing their mission. In just a few hours, they’d talk to the High Khan, warn him about Karl Strand and his clones, and form an alliance among the Kampii, the winged Aviars, and the Equian horse folk. Together, they’d stand a chance against Strand’s army of Upgraders, slaves, and whomever else Strand had convinced to join him.
As they neared Mirage, Aluna’s brain worked its way through the illusions. The city flickered less and less until finally it blinked into view and stayed, solid as stone. A layer of soot coated the inside of the dome, making it difficult to see details. Dark figures patrolled just beyond the entrance gate, their pikes and swords reflecting sunlight in sharp bursts.
She glanced at Dash and saw his eagerness fade, his jaw clench.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He stared straight ahead at Mirage, his brown eyes searching. “I do not know,” he said quietly. “Maybe nothing. But perhaps . . . everything.”
ALUNA HAD EXPECTED the gates of Mirage to be open and welcoming, had expected the sizzle of food and the laughter of Equians to greet them even before they set foot inside the city. Dash had promised them no less. Instead, Red Sky guards swarmed just inside the dome’s walls like a school of giant, hungry fish.
Aluna stepped toward the entrance, a massive archway built into the dome’s curved wall. A shimmering veil of energy filled the arch, separating the desert from the inside of the city. Dash had said that in times of danger, the gateway could be turned solid, sealing everyone inside an impenetrable barrier. Their enemies would be stranded outside in the desert, kilometers away from any other source of shade or water, slowly baking and dying of thirst in the sun.
A male guard noticed their approach. “Halt!” he called, drawing his sword. He had a curly brown beard and pale skin. A dirty bandage covered part of his sand-colored flank. Aluna could see blood seeping through it in dark lines. A fresh injury. “You will proceed through the checkpoint one at a time. Do not run. Do not reach for your weapons. Do not ask questions.”
Aluna glanced at Dash and saw his jaw tense. “It’s not supposed to work like this, is it?” she whispered.
He shook his head once.
“Maybe they’re already at war with Scorch and Karl Strand,” she said. “They’re smart to be cautious. For all they know, we’re enemy spies.”
“My people assume that everyone is out to get them,” Calli agreed. “It’s a good survival tactic.”
Hoku grunted. “I remember the Aviar prison cells with great fondness.”
Dash relaxed slightly. “Let us not keep them waiting, then. We will win their trust when the High Khan hears our tale.”
“I’ll go first,” Aluna said. She raised her hands and stepped forward, hoping her legs would stay strong with so many eyes on her. She spoke loudly. “Not touching my weapons. Not running. Not asking questions.”
When she was directly under the archway, the guard with the curly beard motioned her to stop. She forced herself to stand there as tiny beams of light crisscrossed her skin. It reminded her of the shark she and Hoku had found at the forbidden Seahorse Alpha outpost, the one that had scanned her with its green net and sent pictures back to Fathom.
A mechanical voice spoke: “Race: Kampii. Age: twelve to fifteen cycles. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: standard Kampii enhancements. Risk assessment: minimal.”
Aluna swallowed thickly. Not only did the tech know she was a Kampii. It also knew how old she was. It knew if she was sick. It knew about her fast-healing skin and thick bones and dark sight. Could it see her tail forming, too? Would it tell the others?
“Wait there,” Curly-Beard said, motioning to a spot beside him. Aluna jumped out of the scanner veil and took her place. Up close, she could see a dark bruise pillowed around the guard’s left eye.
Curly-Beard motioned to a female guard with a dusty black flank and red hair. She clomped over and he whispered to her, “Did you hear? A Kampii. She will want to know right away. Maybe we should go now.” His eyes darted to the bandage on his back.
“Shh,” the female guard said quietly. “Let the rest come through. We will do what she wants — what the High Khan wants, I mean. Do not worry. Your sister will be fine.”
Curly-Beard nodded, but he didn’t look happy.
Aluna pretended she hadn’t heard a word of it, but the hairs pricked at the back of her neck. Her fingers curled up and touched the weapons strapped to her wrists, two tiny talon chains wound tightly in their canisters, just waiting to be unleashed. But not yet. Not until they’d seen the khan and found some way to win him to their cause.
Curly-Beard looked up through the archway and called, “Next!”
Calli walked into the archway, and the tech voice called, “Race: Aviar. Age: twelve to fifteen cycles. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: standard Aviar enhancements. Risk assessment: minimal.”
Hoku followed. A ring of red lights blinked as the voice said, “Diseases: dormant type 6-F. Recommend immediate inoculation.”
Before Aluna could even move, a young Equian warrior cantered up to Hoku, grabbed his arm, and slapped a patch on the back of his hand. Hoku looked startled but unharmed.
“Disease 6-F? Is that bad?” Hoku said.
The lights around the entrance immediately turned green. “Dormant type 6-F neutralized. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: standard Kampii enhancements. Risk assessment: minimal.” Hoku joined the others in the waiting spot, still stunned.
“Was I going to die?” he asked Calli quietly.
“Disease 6-F,” Calli said, pretending to think. “Boils. I’m almost certain your death would have been slow and involved oozing boils.”
“Well, then, I’m glad I don’t have it anymore,” he said seriously, peeling the med-patch off his skin.
Dash came through last, his eyes down, his hands fisted. Aluna didn’t understand why he was so agitated until the tech voice called, “Race: Equian, failed. Herd: Shining Moon. Age: twelve to fifteen cycles. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: partial Equian enhancements; mechanical forearm, left, origin unknown. Risk assessment: minimal.”
Equian, failed.
The guards snickered and some said, “Aldagha.” The way they said the word made her want to punch each of them in the face. And then Dash was through. Aluna tried to catch his eye, but he continued to stare at the ground.
The female guard stepped forward. “Welcome to Mirage, glorious home of Red Sky herd, and seat of our most exalted High Khan Onggur, leader of the Equians.”
Aluna heard Curly-Beard mumble, “Which should be enough.”
The guard continued. “You are now prisoners of the High Khan —”
“Wait, what?” Dash interrupted. “Since when have visitors to Mirage been automatically taken prisoner? This is not our way!”
“Risk assessment minimal,” Hoku added. “You heard it yourselves!”
“Times change,” the female guard said to Dash. “And since when does an aldagha know what it means to be a real Equian?”
Aluna saw Dash’s fists tighten. She had to act fast, before blades were drawn. She stepped between Dash and the woman. “We’re here to see High Khan Onggur. If you’re planning to take us to him, then that’s fine. Call us whatever you want on the way.”
She let her hand drift to Dash’s forearm and squeezed. It was his mechanical arm, cool and unfo
rgiving beneath her fingers, but she sensed him relax anyway.
The guard nodded to Curly-Beard. “Borte, take them to the High Khan. Do what you need to do.” She called out four other names, and soon guards surrounded them, their swords out. Curly-Beard — Borte — took the lead. His tail swished behind him, but he held his weapon in a firm grip.
“Do not attempt escape,” he said. “Do not give us a reason to hurt you.” He glared at Calli. “If you try to fly away, we will give the High Khan a cape made from your feathers.”
Calli crossed her arms and seemed to shrink. She tried to pull her wings tight to her back, but they were still wings — huge and conspicuous and impossible to ignore. Hoku stepped to her side, his eyes angry. He never carried a weapon, but he looked ready to attack Borte with the books in his satchel. Dash, on the other hand, seemed cool as stone, his face blank and without emotion.
“We won’t cause any trouble,” Aluna said, more to her friends than to Borte. At another time, Hoku, Calli, and Dash would have laughed that she was the one making that promise. Right now, nothing seemed funny.
“Wise Kampii,” Borte said. He turned and led them into the city.
Her view of Mirage was blocked by the five massive Equian bodies surrounding them, but she could tell the city bore little resemblance to the Mirage of Dash’s stories. Where were all the people? She’d expected vendors hawking their goods, stores brimming with jewelry and claywork, and musicians competing for tips. But the streets were empty. The only motion was the flutter of red-and-black banners in Mirage’s artificial breeze and an occasional face at a window, always quick to disappear when she noticed.
“What happened to the city?” Dash asked.
“No questions,” Borte answered, but Aluna saw the guard frown, saw his left foreleg stumble slightly.
The distant clanging of metal against metal got louder as they walked. Thick black smoke drifted through the streets like mist off the ocean. It stung Aluna’s eyes and made Calli cough.
And suddenly the tightly packed buildings gave way to a vast, open area filled with blacksmiths and weapon forgers, with skinners and bow makers and fletchers whittling arrows. Smoke billowed from forges and stained the nearby buildings with soot. Some Equians wore chains around their hooves. Some wore bandages on their backs and faces and legs. Everyone, even young Equians no older than a few years, hauled supplies or hammered metal or molded leather. Guards with drawn swords patrolled the work areas and barked orders.
