by Jenn Reese
Tayan nodded. “Yes. Normally, no herd would take in an aldagha, especially one condemned to death by another herd. But our new herd will be different.”
“We have no new herd,” Dash said. “The Trials are only a few weeks away, and we must first find a bloodline. There may well be none remaining.”
Aluna noticed the two pharos whispering to each other on their thrones. Nathif shifted on his coils, a strange grin growing on his face.
“What is it?” Aluna said. “What do you know? We’re trying to save you, as well as ourselves!” Even now, the Serpenti fell back into secrecy. Was there truly any hope for the world while silence and distrust held so much power over its people?
Nathif looked to the pharos and raised an eyebrow. Pharo Bomani hissed and sat back on his throne. Pharo Zahra nodded. “Go on. Tell them.”
Nathif turned to face them, his snake body quietly slithering to readjust for the change in direction. “Back when there were more than a handful of us, we annihilated three of the Equian herds. Two destroyed their bloodlines before we could capture them, but one did not. We have kept it safe ever since.”
“Which one?” Dash asked quietly.
“Oh, one of the lesser bloodlines, I am sure,” Nathif said, feigning nonchalance. Even now, the snake-boy couldn’t resist toying with them. “Have you heard of Flame Heart? It is the bloodline of your hero Chabi.”
HOKU SAT BY CALLI’S SIDE, her limp hand clutched between both of his. The Equian medics had stopped the poison’s progress through her bloodstream, but they had no antidote. Either her body would find a way to defeat it or she would slowly die.
He squeezed her hand and ignored the grumbling in his stomach. Sweat dappled Calli’s forehead, even in the medics’ tech-cooled tent, even at night. Occasionally, she rolled over or moaned. He leaned close when she did, wondering if she might be trying to speak, hoping to hear his name.
Behind him, the tent flap rustled. Hooves clomped on the carpets layered on the ground. Hoku didn’t turn to look.
“Weaver Sokhor has fled, along with two dozen of his allies,” Dantai said, his breath coming in gasps. “We did not realize so many were loyal to his cause. We suspect he is working with Karl Strand and Scorch directly — High Khan Onggur would never knowingly use poison.”
He knew Dantai and the others had been looking for Sokhor for hours, but he just didn’t care.
Dantai clomped closer. “She should never have been used like this, friend Hoku,” he said, his voice softer and more humble than Hoku had ever heard it before. And still, he didn’t care. He felt tears building up in his eyes and gritted his teeth until they disappeared. He would not cry. He would not be weak, even for one moment, while Calli needed him.
Later — he wasn’t sure when — Dantai left. Eventually, Hoku saw the sky lighten through the thick cloth walls of the tent. The Equian medics came at regular intervals, bringing water and liquid food for Calli. Someone put a tray of fruit and meat on the carpet beside him. He ignored it.
At some point, he slept, jolting awake whenever his hand started to slip from Calli’s. He didn’t want her to recover and find him unconscious, unable to perform even the simple task of sitting by her side. And so he recited formulas in his head and tried to solve the remaining problem he was having with the force shield.
The next time the tent flap rustled, he recognized the smell. And the grunting. And the voice.
“Stupid basic, on your butt when there’s work to be done,” Rollin said.
He started to turn around, then stopped himself and focused on Calli.
Rollin grunted again, and he heard the thud of something heavy hitting the carpet nearby. He couldn’t help it. He looked.
“Commbox won’t stop squawking,” Rollin said, adjusting one of the dials. “Your friends keep calling, wanting to know where you are, wanting to know about the girl, talk-talk-talking as if I don’t have work to do. As if I’m your bleeding message service.” She stood back up and dusted off her normal hand on her pants. “What else you want from the tent, eh?”
“Nothing,” Hoku said, eyeing the commbox. The dials were just out of reach. “I don’t want anything.”
Rollin stumbled over and kicked him in the arm.
“Ow! What are you doing?” Hoku scooted away from her, but didn’t release Calli’s hand.
“Waking you up, you ridiculous basic,” she said matter-of-factly, as if her words actually made sense. “You think she wants you to dwindle into a stick? You weren’t exactly a tree trunk to start. You think she wants you to give up on your makings?”
Hoku looked at Calli, at her eyes jerking back and forth underneath her eyelids.
“Give up if you want,” Rollin huffed. “Great way to show her you care. Great way to help your friends. Time-honored method of being ridiculous.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hoku said. His body felt weak, useless, but a surge of anger lent him strength. “You don’t have anyone except your gizmos. You don’t know what it’s like to almost lose someone you care about!”
Rollin raised an eyebrow, but the twisty smile on her face stayed exactly in place, as if she’d glued it there. “Don’t know loss? Don’t know love?” She huffed. “Seems the basic knows a lot about me all of a sudden. And like always, he’s wrong.”
She shuffled toward the tent flap, her hooked hand scratching her hip as she walked. “I’ll be bringing your things. The shield and the girl’s bow. I’ll work on the horse harness myself. Could use a bit of exercise. Besides, maybe the horse will be my friend, since I apparently got no others.” She chuckled and left.
The energy drained from Hoku’s body, as quickly as it had come. He was tired. That’s why he’d said those horrible things. Rollin had kicked him, after all.
He eyed the commbox. Had Aluna and Dash really used it again? He eased himself toward it, trying to continue holding Calli’s hand. He didn’t make it very far. Maybe Calli wouldn’t mind if he just held on to her with one hand. He slowly unclasped his right hand, stretched his fingers, and scooted toward the commbox. With his arm outstretched, he was still a few centimeters from touching the knobs.
Rollin knew exactly what she’d been doing when she put it there, he thought.
Calli’s eyes moved beneath her lids, but less frantically now. Her pulse seemed weak but steady, her breathing even. Gently, he placed her hand on the carpet and released it.
She didn’t even notice. He watched her a few seconds longer, then quietly maneuvered to the commbox, grabbing a piece of fruit from the food tray on his way. He bit into its skin and let the juice run down his chin.
When Rollin returned, she didn’t say anything about his move. She only grunted and dropped his force shield and bag of tools by his side. When she turned to leave, Hoku said, “The horse harness pulls to the right. I’m not sure I have the gyroscopic stabilizer calibrated correctly. It thinks Aluna weighs twice as much as it should.”
“Perfect for me, then,” Rollin said with a crooked smile. Then she nodded. “I’ll check it.”
As she disappeared out the flap, Hoku wondered if he should have said something else. Something a little closer to “thank you.”
He disappeared into his work. Once he’d double-checked that the commbox was ready to receive whatever signal Aluna might send, he turned his attention to the force shield. Two more pieces of fruit later, he’d finally figured out why the force part of the force shield was shorting out every time he activated it.
It frustrated him, the fact that they mostly tried to find new uses for old tech. If Rollin hadn’t had the tiny little hearts of a force field lying around her tent, his shield would have stayed an idea in his head, instead of a piece of actual tech in his hands.
“Hoku?”
He looked at Calli, but she was still unconscious.
“Hoku!” Aluna said.
He turned to the commbox, and there she was, looking so familiar, so Aluna-like, that he wanted to reach into the vi
ewscreen and hug her.
Her initial smile faded. “Rollin told us about Calli. How is she?”
Hoku frowned. “She’s holding on, but I don’t know how long she’ll keep fighting. She hasn’t been conscious since I found her.”
Aluna reached out her hand and touched the viewscreen on her end. “I’ve sent for Nathif. He’s a healer, and the Serpenti know a lot about poisons. Do you think he could talk to one of the Equian healers about Calli? He might be able to help.”
His heart leaped. “Yes. I’ll make them listen, even if I have to dim the video display so they don’t know who they’re talking to.”
“Great! Now listen. Before he gets here, I have to tell you some things.” Aluna launched into a description of their conversation with the Serpenti pharos, and by the end of it, he was a member of a bizarre new Equian herd called Flame Heart.
“So our new herd has two Kampii, one normal-looking Equian, two slightly unusual-looking Equians, and an Aviar?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I have to say, we’re not all that impressive.”
“Yes!” Aluna said, ignoring his sarcasm. “And Nathif, too, if I can convince him.”
“Barnacles! Why don’t you invite the entire Serpenti population while you’re at it?”
Aluna’s brown eyes grew wide as clams. “Hoku, that’s brilliant!”
“It is? I was joking.”
“I have to talk to Tayan about it. If the Serpenti join Flame Heart, the other herds may not be able to attack them as easily.” She looked down. He could almost hear the gears in her brain spinning. When she looked up, her eyes sparkled. “It’ll be tricky. Our muddle of a herd is already a little light on actual Equians. But Tayan assures me that herd law is a powerful thing, even when they don’t like what it says.”
The entire Serpenti city, as part of their new herd.
“So . . . anyone is welcome to join?” he asked.
Aluna grinned. “Fins, hooves, tails, wings — we’ll take anyone,” she said. “Just not Weaver Sokhor or his traitors.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Hoku said, his own gears beginning to spin.
He heard Dash call Aluna’s name from somewhere offscreen. “I have to go,” she said to Hoku. “I’m going to talk to Tayan. Nathif will be here in two flashes of a tail.”
“I’ll go get a healer,” he said. “But call back soon!”
Aluna touched the screen again. “You know I will.” And then she was gone.
Hoku checked on Calli, then climbed to his feet. One of his legs had fallen asleep. He pounded it as he stumbled out of the tent. First he needed a healer to talk to Nathif. And then, after they figured out some way to save Calli, he had a very important question for Rollin.
When they left the Shining Moon settlement, only half the herd went with them. Khan Arasen sent the other half — all the children and non-warriors — north toward the distant mountains. If things didn’t go well at the Thunder Trials, he wanted them as far away as possible.
Hoku had argued for sending them to Coiled Deep. What would be safer than an underground city that the herds hadn’t been able to find for generations? Even now that the comm signal had been broadcast, he doubted that anyone would look until long after the Trials. But neither the khan nor Dantai would agree, even when Tayan herself got on the commbox and tried to convince them.
At least the Equian healers had been open to speaking with the Serpenti. With Nathif’s guidance, they’d managed to bring a little color back to Calli’s cheeks. Hoku considered sending Calli north with the fleeing Equians, but the journey to the mountains would be physically rigorous. And besides, Tayan had promised Scorch that Calli would appear at the Thunder Trials. If he sent Calli to the mountains, she’d just fly back and yell at him when she woke up. Calli didn’t get angry often, and Hoku wanted to keep it that way. No, it made more sense to take her to Nathif, who might be able to cure her.
He kicked Sunbeam halfheartedly, and the horse cantered up to Rollin’s side. She sat astride Nightshade. Hoku wasn’t sure which one of them resented the arrangement more.
“When will we get there?” Rollin said. “Saddle needs more cushion. My horse trots bumpy on purpose.”
“The horses all hate me” and “the horses are out to get me” were two of Rollin’s most well-used complaints. Hoku listened to them gladly. He owed her at least that much for snapping him out of his despair.
When he’d first asked Rollin to join the herd, he had thought she might cry. She lobbed a circuit tray at his head instead. For Rollin, projectiles were a sign of affection. Now she wore her Flame Heart colors proudly. She’d even painted her hand attachments light blue and yellow.
Hoku and Rollin took turns pulling Calli’s sand-sled. Hoku tried not to think about the Thunder Trials. He was afraid of change. Afraid that Calli might die from the poison in her body, or that Dash or Aluna might get hurt. He was afraid that if they failed, the whole world would fall into the hands of Karl Strand.
Back in the City of Shifting Tides, his dad always used to say, “Hunt fish, gather clams.” He didn’t mean it literally, although Hoku had thought that for a long time. His dad meant that focusing on practical, everyday things helped you calm down and gave you a sense of purpose. So now, instead of thinking about all the things that could go wrong, Hoku concentrated on his force shield. During the day he puzzled through the remaining issues in his head, and at night, sitting by Calli’s side, he tightened tiny screws and adjusted the shield’s complex wiring patterns. His dad would have been proud.
WHEN THEY SET OUT from Coiled Deep on their way to the Thunder Trials, Tayan rode at the front of the group, the Flame Heart bloodline amulet around her neck. Aluna followed right behind her carrying the new Flame Heart banner. Nathif had sewn it, based on Tayan’s ideas. The top half was blue, but not as dark as the midnight color the Shining Moon wore. More like the sky, or the brilliant blue of ocean water on a clear day. Golden flames licked up from the bottom of the banner, sewn in a shimmering cloth that Aluna wanted to touch every minute.
But her favorite parts were the details. You couldn’t see them from a distance, but up close, Nathif’s tiny, meticulous designs sewn into the golden flames started to take shape. A falcon for the Aviar. A seahorse for the Kampii. A snake for the Serpenti. A horse for the Equian. And when Aluna had mentioned that Rollin, Hoku’s Upgrader mentor, had also joined Flame Heart, Nathif had added round objects with jagged edges called gears.
Aluna patted Tal’s neck and apologized again for the bumpy ride. Hoku had shown her the saddle he was making to accommodate her tail, so she was practicing keeping her legs in the right position — knees forward, atop Tal’s withers, and calves and ankles together on Tal’s left side. A Serpenti skirt clung to her body from her waist down, tapering all the way to her ankles and thankfully covering her unsightly patches of growing scales.
Both male and female Serpenti wore the same style of skirt — they were tight enough that they stayed in place even during slithering and fighting. Nathif had made Aluna’s skirts himself — one out of Kampii green with decorations of gold, and the other out of their new Flame Heart colors. He’d even sewn in a thin lining of sponge that Aluna could soak with water. Her legs needed to be kept wet if she wanted the scales to come in healthy. Aluna loved her new skirts more than any other clothing she’d ever worn.
Although all the Serpenti were technically part of the Flame Heart herd, only Nathif and a dozen Serpenti had chosen to join them at the Thunder Trials. Aluna was thrilled when the cappo’ra master, Sefu, and his prize pupil, Subira, decided to join them. Five other cappo’ra fighters, two healers, and three warriors trained in weapons rounded out the group. Hoku might be bringing the brains, but she was definitely bringing the muscle.
Most nights, Dash practiced with his sword. Aluna sparred with him, hopping onto her hands and swinging her legs around like a Serpenti tail, trying to knock him off his feet. He was fast and quick, and she almost never caught him. But balancing on her legs, even now
that they were stuck together, she could still spin her chain whips — her talons, Spirit and Spite — and occasionally catch his sword arm or even his neck. Dash was faster, but she was creative and had picked up techniques from the Kampii, Aviars, and Serpenti. When he tried to guess what move she would do next, he was always wrong.
Back in the City of Shifting Tides, the Kampii Elders had called her wild and unpredictable. They’d always meant it as a critique. But here in the desert, those very same flaws had become her secret weapons.
The Thunder Trials were held in the Valley of the Dead, on a great flat plain of salt called Ghostwater. Dash said it was an ocean’s graveyard, but it comforted Aluna to be close to even the memory of the sea.
As they approached, tents and bonfires spotted the desert in greater and greater numbers. Vendors hawked food and offered to sharpen weapons. Finally they found themselves winding through campsites thick with Equians.
Most Equians would attack Serpenti on sight and not bother to figure out if they were part of a new herd, but Shining Moon had done them a favor. Despite being furious about Tayan’s decision to lead Flame Heart, Khan Arasen and Dantai had promised to spread the news of their coming. The Equians watching them now hurled insults and slurs, but no weapons. Aluna changed her grip on the Flame Heart banner so she could hold it ever higher.
“Let them gawk,” Tayan said. “The sooner they see that we are here to participate honorably, the better. Already they will be whispering about Chabi and how Flame Heart has been rekindled. And about how strong and noble the Flame Heart khan is.”
Aluna laughed. She still wasn’t used to Tayan exhibiting a sense of humor, but she liked it.
Tayan led them directly to the heart of the campsite, where a vast arena had been dug into the ground and a huge pavilion constructed above it. Aluna marveled that so large a structure could have been constructed out here, in the middle of nowhere, so far from any settlement.
High Khan Onggur and Scorch stood inside with a dozen other Equians. It looked like a party, with servants offering food and drinks on trays, and a cluster of Equians stomping and playing instruments in one corner. They must have seen Flame Heart coming, but they gave no indication. Ignoring them was apparently part of the game.
