by Jenn Reese
Tayan clomped into the pavilion and pulled out her sword. The bloodline amulet glinted around her neck, easy for everyone to see. Her voice boomed, “O Great Khan! Herd Flame Heart has arrived and seeks official welcome to the Trials.”
The High Khan turned slowly, as if someone had offered him a snack and he was considering his answer. The smile on Scorch’s face glittered, too white and not at all welcoming. They’d had too much time to prepare for this.
“The Flame Heart bloodline was destroyed in the Venom War,” Onggur said easily.
“So we all thought,” Tayan said, “but we were mistaken. I recovered the bloodline and have resurrected its legacy.”
High Khan Onggur glared. “And you will submit to a test of authenticity?”
Tayan nodded. “Of course, High Khan, so long as the bloodline remains in my possession the whole time.”
The smile slipped slightly from Scorch’s face. She clearly hadn’t counted on Tayan being so slick.
“You have brought one of the three prisoners that you promised to our ally Scorch, and I trust that the other two are not far behind,” the High Khan said. “But I see no reason for you to defile our sacred games by allowing the enemy of our people to accompany you.”
Aluna loosened her grip on the Flame Heart banner. If she needed to, she could toss it to the ground and have her talons out and spinning in a flash. Behind her, she heard the Serpenti coiling their tails into their defensive pose.
“I have defiled nothing,” Tayan said. “All who stand with me are members of Flame Heart reborn. As are Hoku of the Kampii, Calliope of the Aviars, and the remaining residents of the Serpenti city, Coiled Deep. Just as our Equian families may forge themselves in any shape so long as there is loyalty and love, so is Flame Heart forged.”
The other Equians in the pavilion stomped their hooves. A man wearing the purple and yellow of herd Swift Wind shattered his cup on the ground.
“Insolence!” Scorch said. “My father would never allow such a disgrace.” She said it to Tayan, but her eyes strayed to the High Khan.
Tayan touched two fingers to her heart and bowed low. “Fortunately, my allegiance is to High Khan Onggur of Red Sky, not Karl Strand, and to herd law.”
Tides’ teeth, she is good, Aluna thought. Someone should have almost killed her a long time ago.
High Khan Onggur stared at the other Equians until they fell silent, then turned to Tayan. “My heart calls this a disgrace, Khan Tayan, but when I took the mantle of High Khan, I agreed to listen to a higher calling than myself. According to herd law, and assuming your bloodline is true, Flame Heart is renewed. You are hereby accepted into the Thunder Trials, although you are, by no means, welcome.”
Aluna and the rest of Flame Heart cheered. Only Tayan remained calm. “We are honored to be here, Great One. Will you guarantee safe passage for my people?”
The High Khan frowned. “You share the same protections as all herds.”
“But your earlier promises still stand,” Scorch said sharply. “I was promised the three prisoners.”
“And you will have them,” Onggur said. “They are yours the moment the last fight ends on the third day. Am I right, Khan Tayan?”
“You are,” she said easily. Too easily. An ice crab skittered down Aluna’s spine. Tayan would still hand them over to Scorch, after everything they’d been through. Because she’d given her word.
“You will stay, Khan Tayan, so we may examine your bloodline. Your herd may go and set up your camp.”
“Of course, High Khan.”
Aluna used the banner to lead Flame Heart out of the pavilion and then turned over the leadership duties to Dash. “Find us a good spot?”
“Any spot will do, as long as it is far from Shining Moon,” he said. Tal whinnied her agreement.
“You have my vote as well,” Nathif said, slithering up to join them. “Serpenti may believe in letting the past go, but even I do not wish to see the people who killed my mother every day.”
In the end, they found a small patch of free land around an empty fire pit on the southern edge of the campsite. Closer to escape, if it came to that. They had just pounded the stake for the first tent into the ground when a familiar voice sounded in Aluna’s ear.
“Hoku!”
Almost as soon as she said it, he had jumped off his mangy horse and tackled her with a hug. She toppled over, her splinted legs no match for his enthusiasm. He stood and helped her up.
“Sorry,” he said. “You had two legs when you left. I wasn’t expecting you to be so . . . easy to tip.”
Dash covered his mouth with his hand, clearly trying to hide a snicker. Rollin, who had come with Hoku, didn’t even try. Her raspy belly laugh echoed through the whole camp. There were probably people in Mirage who could hear it.
Aluna studied Hoku’s face. His skin was a shade darker, sunburned and peeling in places, but essentially he was the same as ever. Only the darkness under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
“Here, let me introduce Nathif,” she said. “And then you can take us all to see Calli.”
WHEN ALUNA SAW CALLI, she bit her tongue to keep from gasping. The girl’s face was white, her tiny body even smaller and thinner than Aluna thought possible. She’d been telling herself that Calli was just sick, that it was temporary. Aluna reached over and squeezed Hoku’s shoulder. He leaned into her touch. Tal helped them bring her back to the Flame Heart camp to be with her new family.
Nathif placed his satchel on the ground and put a hand on Calli’s forehead. “Warm, but not dangerously so.” He took Calli’s wrist. “Weak life rhythm, but steady.” Aluna marveled that the boy who could spew one joke after the next could also be so serious and calm.
“You and the Equians have done well,” Nathif said to Hoku. “Few poison victims survive this long.”
“What can I do?” Hoku asked. “I’ll do anything you say.”
“Excellent,” Nathif said. “I would like you to leave the tent.”
Hoku’s mouth dropped open.
“You have to prepare for the Trials, and I need to save a life,” Nathif said. He reached into his back and began sifting for supplies. “I work best without interruptions. And with a belly full of sautéed mushrooms. Right now, one of those things will have to be enough.”
Aluna tugged Hoku’s shirt and pulled him from the tent. She was tempted to close his mouth, too, but he eventually did that on his own. A distraction. That’s what he needed. The Serpenti had almost finished setting up their camp, so she’d have to think of something else.
“Hoku, can I see the saddle?” Aluna said. “The sooner I start practicing, the less likely I’ll fall on my face during the Trials.”
“Yeah. Sure,” Hoku said absently. He found Sunbeam and Tal dozing in the shade of the tent and unhooked the saddle from Sunbeam’s back. He turned to Tal, but the look on her face was not exactly encouraging. Hoku hesitated.
“Come on, Tal, we talked about this,” Aluna said. “You promised to give it a try.”
Tal raised her head and flared her nostrils, but Aluna knew she was only posturing. Tal wanted to win the Thunder Trials as much as she did. The perfect revenge for an aldagha.
“Here, let me do it.” Aluna hopped over to Hoku and took the saddle from his hands. The material felt smooth and soft in her hands, and it had a strange speckled pattern that reminded her of fish scales.
“Snakeskin,” Hoku said. “Rollin and Calli and I collected them for weeks. We treated it with special oils to make it tougher.”
“It’s beautiful. See, Tal? You’re going to be stylish in this,” Aluna said.
Tal snorted. Aluna interpreted it as, “Not with you on my back, I’m not.”
Hoku helped her put the saddle on Tal’s back and adjust the straps. Tal grunted and stomped and flicked her tail, but eventually submitted to the procedure. It fit well, especially after Hoku adjusted some seemingly invisible latches and hoops.
“I built in some air bladders, whic
h we can adjust to make the fit more snug,” he said. “Climb up, and I’ll show you how it works.”
Aluna vaulted onto Tal’s back and maneuvered her legs into position. Her arms had grown strong from her cappo’ra training in Coiled Deep. She could walk on them now, if she wanted. Not for very long, but for greater distances every day.
“Hook your knees around that,” Hoku said, pointing to a curved piece of snakeskin. “That will keep your tail in place and help you stay attached to Tal if she jumps. Now wrap your ankles to the side, and strap them in here.”
Aluna did as she was told, amazed that everything seemed to work. Hoku had to shift the straps forward a little to make them hit her ankles properly, but the fact was, he could. He’d built the saddle so it could be adjusted.
“We may have to alter this slightly when you get your full fins,” Hoku said. “I wasn’t sure how you’d want them to sit, and we’ll need to protect them somehow.”
“I’ll let you know when that becomes a problem,” she said.
“One last step,” Hoku said. He walked to Tal’s other side. A strange bag hung down from the saddle on that side, the side without her legs. He opened the top, pulled out a spherical device, and began flipping tiny switches along its surface. “Tal, this stabilizer will help balance Aluna’s weight on the other side. You’ll have to let me know if you want more or less pull on this side, okay?”
Tal whinnied, apparently very pleased that her needs had been taken into account. She twisted her head back and snorted into Hoku’s nose. He sputtered.
“She’s happy,” Aluna said.
“Horse breath,” Hoku gasped. “Not my favorite display of affection.”
Aluna chuckled. “Is everything set?”
Hoku dropped the stabilizer back into the bag and cinched the top shut. “Yes, go ahead. Please take it slow at first, since we haven’t tested —”
“Swim!” Aluna whispered into Tal’s ear, and the horse bolted. Hoku jumped back out of the way. Tal would never have hurt them, but he didn’t know that. No one knew Tal like she did. Even now, the horse threaded through the crowded camps, nimbly dodging Serpenti and Equians alike.
Aluna felt glued to Tal’s back, completely secure. As Tal dodged people and campfires, joy swelled in her heart. When they finally broke free of the congested tents, Tal burst into a gallop. Aluna lowered herself forward, her chest almost directly on top of the crook on her knees.
They were wind over sand. They were sunlight on the surface of the ocean.
Tal cut left and right, testing the saddle. Aluna learned to throw her weight into the turn to help Tal take it faster. Eventually, she pulled out her talon weapons and spun the chains as they ran. She had to adjust her angles and force to account for the wind resistance, but the chain whips whizzed at her side or over her head, ready to be redirected at an enemy.
She and Tal ran and played and drilled for hours. Aluna practiced unhooking the latch on her ankles so she could dismount quickly if she needed to. Tal laughed at her early attempts, especially the ones where she ended up face-first in the sand. But eventually, Aluna could mount and dismount almost as easily as when she rode bareback.
Hoku had given her the best gift ever. Not just the ability to fight from horseback, but a future.
The sun had fallen low in the sky by the time she returned to camp. The Flame Heart banner — now attached to the center pole of a tent — waved clear and proud. She found Dash making their herd’s bonfire, and Hoku munching cactus strips while he watched.
She and Tal slid to a stop by the fire. She knew how they looked — dirty, sweaty, and covered in sand and scrapes. Hoku looked at her, a question clearly in his eyes. She grinned at him and rattled off the list of adjustments she and Tal wanted.
“I think I can do most of those,” he said, nodding. His eyes already had that distracted look they got when he was thinking happy tech thoughts.
“Good,” she said, still breathing hard. “But before you get into it, I need another favor first.”
“What?” Hoku said.
Dash poked at his growing fire and laughed. “The shield, Hoku. She wants you to give her the shield.”
Aluna grinned at them both with her grimy, sweat-slicked face. “Show me how to use it,” she said to Hoku. “I’ve got some Thunder Trials to win.”
The look on his face drooped. “It’s not ready yet. Not unless you want to lop off your arm the first time you use it.”
“I’d prefer a non-lopping shield if possible,” she said.
“Non-lopping. I can do that!” And he was off, scrambling to his supply packs. When he returned to the fire, he had a small, curved piece of metal in one hand and a bag full of tools in the other. He bellowed for Rollin, and she came out of her tent with a stream of words Aluna had never heard before. But she quickly settled near Hoku and started poking his device and offering suggestions.
Aluna sat next to Dash and watched the fire.
“He is not going to talk to us again the rest of the night, is he?” Dash asked.
She shook her head. “You’re stuck with me.”
THE NEXT DAY, Tayan held a Flame Heart meeting on a salty-white plain away from the ocean of Equian campsites. Flame Heart numbered almost twenty, a pitiful size for a herd, but it made Hoku’s heart swell to see so many people willing to risk everything. They were all his brothers and sisters now.
He sat on Sunbeam, Aluna rode Tal, and Rollin had apparently not managed to kill and eat her horse, Cactus, as she had threatened, because he stood reluctantly beneath her now. Dash now rode a glossy brown mare named Sandwolf, purchased at great price from Shining Moon and only after much negotiating on Tayan’s part.
Tayan raised her sword in the air.
“Herd Flame Heart, welcome to the Thunder Trials!” she yelled.
Hoku cheered, along with everyone else.
“Tonight, we will go to the Ceremony of Flames, which begins the tournament. Afterward, you must enter your name in the rolls for one of the three tournament paths — the Path of Sun, the Path of Moon, or the Path of Sand. You may enter only one.”
Hoku nodded. The Path of Moon contained the contests for tech, food, art, word-weaving, music, and textiles. Rollin would enter her air-cooling device, and if Calli recovered in time, she could enter her bow. Tayan would enter as a word-weaver, now that she could not fight. A Serpenti agreed to enter the food competition, despite snake bellies being entirely different from Equian stomachs. And Nathif would enter the textiles competition with his Flame Heart banner. Whichever herd had the greatest point total in all the categories combined would win the Silver Disc of the Moon.
Dash and most of the other Serpenti would compete in the Path of Sand, which contained all the trials of skill — spear, sword, bow, strength, agility, and even falconry. Dash was certain to win the falconry contest, if only they could buy or trade for a falcon in time. Shining Moon had refused to sell any of theirs, as it increased their chances of winning if Dash couldn’t participate. The Bronze Disc of the Sand would go to the herd with the highest combined total in the Path of Sand competitions.
The final category, the Path of Sun, was both the most important and the most deadly. It contained only one competition: combat. After two days of bouts, the final two competitors would face each other the last night of the Thunder Trials, after all other competitions had been determined. The winner would earn the Gold Disc of the Sun for his or her herd.
The Sun Disc trumped the others. Unless another herd won both the Moon Disc and the Sand Disc, the winner of the Sun Disc was considered the winner of the entire games and would earn the title High Khan and the right to rule the herds for a full year.
Flame Heart would enter six competitors in the Path of Sun: five Serpenti warriors and Aluna. If any of them won, or if Khan Arasen or Dantai from Shining Moon was the victor, then Red Sky would lose power and their alliance would be meaningless. Scorch and Karl Strand would find enemies instead of allies among the Equians.
>
When Tayan was done speaking, Aluna nudged Hoku. “You should put the shield in the tech competition. I bet you could win.”
“No doubt he would win,” Rollin said, idly kicking her horse as it munched on a shrub. “Best tech I’ve seen in ages, and it doesn’t even work yet.”
“Then it’s decided,” Aluna said. “We need that victory. If I don’t get the Sun Disc, we’ll need both the Moon and the Sand in order to take the desert from Onggur.”
Hoku looked at Aluna. She was short, even for a Kampii, but her arms and shoulders bulged with muscle under her brown skin. She wore her hair short — less as an afterthought now, and more like a style. Instead of hiding her growing tail beneath layers of desert cloth, she had wrapped it in a glittering Serpenti skirt.
So far from the ocean, she was more herself than he had ever seen her. Then again, he was more himself, too.
“No,” Hoku said.
“What do you mean, ‘No’?” Aluna said. “This isn’t just your decision. It’s about the good of the herd.”
“Spoken like a true Flame Heart,” Dash said happily.
“This is about the good of the herd,” Hoku said, squaring his shoulders. If Aluna wanted a fight, he was ready for it. “I didn’t build the shield to sit on a judging table. I built it to protect my best friend.”
They all stared at him. Even Aluna. He could tell the anger had washed out of her like a tide. She took his hand and squeezed.
“Spoken like a true Flame Heart,” Dash said again. And the discussion was over.
As the sun began to set, the campsites filled with nervous excitement. Over in the Sun Stadium, Equians were building the great flame that would burn throughout the night. Already, a huge plume of smoke twisted and curled into the darkening sky.
Hoku tugged on his shirt and checked the neckline for the third time. Nathif had shown him how to attach the light-blue and yellow Flame Heart colors with tiny stitches. He’d enjoyed doing such simple, focused work while sitting by Calli’s side. He wished Calli could join him at the ceremony, but she still hadn’t woken. Her face had more color, he was sure of it, but Nathif refused to tell him that she would live. “I do not believe in jinxes,” Nathif had said. “But I do have a decent respect for them.”
