Mirage

by Jenn Reese

  “It was all Odu,” he told her. “She is the true hunter. I was only her transport.”

  “Of course,” Aluna said with a grin. “The bird should get all the credit.”

  A Serpenti named Ramla took the top award in archery, and for a few brief moments, Aluna thought the Bronze Disc of the Sand might be theirs. Then Red Sky took the awards for strength, agility, and sword, and Flame Heart’s chances ended. A Swift Wind won for speed, a Cloud Hoof for spear, and the Bronze Disc was awarded to Red Sky. If they had not changed the competitions to favor people with four hooves, it might have ended differently.

  Dash and Ramla went to the award platform, joy absent from their faces. Aluna wanted them to be proud of what they’d done. They’d beaten the other Equians despite being hated and feared. Despite being outsiders. When High Khan Onggur placed the glinting bronze sashes over their shoulders, Aluna cheered until her voice cracked.

  As the High Khan began to announce the winners of the Path of Moon, he stopped in the middle of his sentence and seemed to waver. For a flash, she thought he might actually topple over completely. Two Red Sky appeared at his side, and soon he was gone, taken away from all the eyes. The Equian in charge of the Path of Moon stepped forward and began speaking as if nothing had happened.

  Aluna looked for Scorch on the pavilion but couldn’t find her. Not a good sign. It was always better to watch the shark circling than to find its jaws suddenly clamped on your tail.

  Tayan did not win the word-weaving competition, although she came in an honorable fifth. At least Weaver Sokhor had never showed up to claim the victory for himself. Nathif came in second in the textile competition with his Flame Heart banner, and the Serpenti Fenyang actually won the cooking trial with his Hearty Desert Stew.

  “Mushrooms,” Nathif whispered to Aluna. “His secret weapon. Apparently the Equians had never even seen them before.”

  The tech awards were next. Aluna made her way to where Calli and Rollin were standing. Hoku was still in his tent, still working furiously on his shield. He hadn’t slept all night. Aluna held her breath as the results were announced. Rollin came in third with her cooling device — a shock to everyone, including her. She shrugged, grunted, and muttered, “Silly four-feets.” The Equian from Cloud Hoof with the insect repellent came in second. Aluna was still watching him rear up on his hind legs and cheer when the winner’s name was called.

  Cheers erupted all around her, and suddenly everyone was crowded around Calli, trying to pat her back despite the two giant wings constantly getting in the way.

  “Calli?” Aluna said. “Tides’ teeth, Calli!” She threw herself into the mix and caught a glimpse of the girl’s grinning, sun-reddened face.

  “Not surprising,” Rollin said. “That bow makes good archers out of imbeciles. Got lots of those in the desert.”

  “I wish Hoku were here,” Calli said. “He said it would never win with such a simple name.”

  “Luckily not everyone is as fixated on naming their tech,” Aluna said, and laughed.

  Aluna tried to be happy for Calli, but even with her surprise victory, the Silver Disc had gone to Cloud Hoof, who managed to take word-weaving, textiles, and a strange performance art — involving twin swords, stomping around in a specific pattern, and yelling battle cries — called Traditional War Dance.

  Calli, Rollin, Nathif, and Fenyang accepted their silver sashes at the podium.

  “We did not win the discs, but we earned respect,” Tayan told the herd. “I guarantee you this: no one here expected us to do so well. We have honored Flame Heart this day.”

  They hadn’t won the Silver and Bronze Discs, and that meant only one thing to Aluna. She’d have to defeat High Khan Onggur herself, one-on-one, or they’d lose everything. She and Calli and Hoku would be given to Scorch, and the herds would either pledge their loyalty to Karl Strand and the war or be cut down where they stood. And if the Equians joined Strand’s army? Well, then there was almost no hope for the Kampii or the Aviars or anyone else who dared to fight back.

  The crowd started to disperse. In only a few hours, everyone would reconvene to watch the last fight as the sun approached the horizon. Aluna turned to go — she and Tal only had a few hours to stretch and prepare — when Tayan grabbed her shoulder.

  “Wait. Look.”

  Aluna followed Tayan’s gaze back to the pavilion. Scorch, flanked by two Red Sky, stepped to the front and spoke quietly with the Path of Moon announcer. He held up his hand, telling everyone not to leave. When he turned to face the crowd, his expression seemed dark.

  “I regret to inform you that the Great One, High Khan Onggur, has suddenly taken ill. He will be unable to compete in the final match this afternoon.”

  The stadium erupted with noise.

  “What does this mean?” Aluna asked in the chaos. “Is the fight postponed? Do I fight someone else?”

  Tayan looked pale. “I am sorry, Aluna. I am very sorry.”

  “What? What does it mean?”

  “I fear they are about to tell us,” Dash said.

  The announcer had held up his hand again. “According to herd law, the second-best competitor from the High Khan’s ring will take his place.”

  “Oh, no,” Dash said. “This cannot be happening.”

  Scorch stepped forward and waved to the crowd as if she’d just won an award. The announcer continued: “Scorch, recently made Red Sky, will now fight Aluna of Flame Heart.”

  This time the noise was deafening.

  “I cannot believe she found a way,” Dash said. Aluna could barely hear him over the clamoring.

  “I can,” she said. “I wonder how she did it.”

  “Poison,” Nathif said easily. “You saw how the High Khan wobbled. A man of his stamina does not suddenly become ill without help.”

  A man in the crowd yelled, “The snakes did this!” A woman answered, “We need to defend our bloodlines!”

  “And we need to leave here. Right now,” Tayan said. “Do not engage. Keep your eyes down and your tongues silent.” She led them quickly and quietly out of the arena. Only when they were safely back at their campsite did she allow them to speak again.

  “They will be arguing about this the rest of the day,” Tayan said. “The other khans cannot be happy. I’m sure they, too, will suspect poison. But unlike us, they will blame the Serpenti, not Scorch, even though it makes no sense for Flame Heart to have committed such a crime.”

  “Will they change their minds?” Calli asked. “Aluna shouldn’t have to fight that monster.”

  Tayan shook her head. “Herd law is very clear, and there is no time for a proper debate. The rule will stand, and the fight will happen as the law decrees.”

  Dash shook his head. “The fate of the desert lies in the hands of two people who were not even born here. We place so much importance on herd law, and this time, it has trapped us. If we Equians learn anything from this, I hope we learn to think for ourselves, instead of relying on the past to think for us.”

  Tayan’s tail swished. “Brother Dashiyn, I promise you this: if I survive whatever happens tonight, I will spend the rest of my life attempting to do that very thing.”

  After tonight. It was a luxury to think of anything that far away. A luxury Aluna no longer had. Now that she was fighting Scorch instead of Onggur, she was positive that she’d already seen her last dawn.

  THE BONFIRE CRACKLED and reached for the sky, even though the sun still hung a few centimeters above the horizon. On their end of the ring, Aluna and Tal cantered and practiced dodging, warming muscles and calming nerves. Behind them, Flame Heart had arranged itself around the edge of the fighting field. Flame Heart minus Nathif and Hoku.

  Nathif had slithered off in search of the medics’ tent, and Hoku was still struggling with his tech. When Aluna had told him about the poisoning and that she’d now be facing Scorch, he’d let out a strangled cry and bent over his shield with a crazed look in his eye. Unfortunately he was out of time.

&nb
sp; Scorch warmed up on the other side of the ring. She wore faded brown leathers studded with a harder plastic material. Unlike her usual outfit of flashy red and black, these clothes looked worn instead of pretty. Scorch stretched in them, easy as an eel, looking all the more dangerous for being dressed so simply.

  The entire arena was filled with Equians, vendors selling food, spectators young and old, with the clomp of hooves and the sharp bark of laughter. Aluna could see some Equians talking in quiet groups away from the ruckus; she caught a flash of steel, a quiver of arrows poking over a shoulder. Tayan had been right: no one was happy with this fight. The other herds had been nervous before, but now even Red Sky seemed agitated. Aluna couldn’t believe that thousands of Equians had been handcuffed by their own rules. Apparently they couldn’t believe it, either.

  A motion caught Aluna’s eye. Dash waved to her from the edge of the ring. Tal cantered over to him without even waiting for Aluna to ask.

  “I do not wish to distract you,” Dash said, “but I have something to give you.”

  “A weapon?” she said eagerly.

  Dash deflated slightly. “No, not a weapon. Only a token.” He held out a slim feather. One of his falcon Odu’s, she guessed. Its stalk had been decorated with blue and green beads, the colors she most associated with her Kampii home.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “My spirit will find yours more easily during the fight this way,” he said.

  She smiled and studied the feather, suddenly too nervous to look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “Where should I wear it?”

  “Lean over,” he said. “I will fasten it.”

  Aluna leaned close to him, ignoring Tal’s huffs as the horse adjusted her weight to compensate. Dash took the feather from Aluna’s hand and gently pinned it to her right sleeve, near her shoulder. Aluna could smell the sand and soap on Dash’s skin. His hair swished around his face like the mane of a well-groomed horse.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

  He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

  “For being the most honorable person in the desert,” she said. “I’ve learned a lot from you.”

  “I am merely an aldagha,” he said, but she could tell he was pleased.

  She was about to take Tal back to the ring when she saw Hoku running toward them.

  “Wait,” he called. “It’s done!”

  “He did it,” Dash said quietly. “I knew he would.”

  Hoku looked as if a whale had swallowed him for a few days then spat him back up. Everything about him seemed disheveled — his hair, his clothes, even his expression. One of his eyes squinted more than the other, and he ran with a lopsided gait, as if one of his legs had fallen asleep.

  He wasted no time on greetings. “Left arm,” he demanded. Aluna dutifully held it out while he wrapped the force shield around it and tightened the straps. “Have you been practicing the motion I taught you?”

  “Yes,” she said. She looked down at the artifact wrapped tightly around her left forearm. In its dormant state, it was simply a hard metal sheath she could use to deflect spear tips and bash against skin. But with a sharp twist and turn of her wrist, a motion she never made in the normal course of battle, a circular shield made of light would supposedly appear.

  “Good,” Hoku said. “The shield only lasts for a flash, so don’t activate it until the blow is about to fall. The device is fully charged, but I’m not sure how many shields that will get you. At least a dozen, maybe twice that. I hope it’s enough.”

  “It’s perfect,” she said. She wanted to hug him, but she didn’t have the mobility. She did the next best thing. “Tal, say thank you, please.”

  Tal turned her big horsey head to Hoku and huffed air at his face. At least she didn’t use her tongue.

  “Um, you’re welcome,” Hoku said.

  “Come.” Dash grabbed Hoku’s arm. “We need to leave the field, and you need to eat. A strong wind might blow you away.”

  “I’m kind of okay with that,” Hoku said with a sigh. But he let Dash pull him away all the same. When he reached the edge of the ring, he turned back and stared at Aluna.

  She whispered, knowing that their Kampii tech would carry the words to his ears. “Best friends always.”

  He nodded grimly and said, “Always.”

  Aluna patted Tal on the withers. The horse whinnied and cantered them both back into the ring.

  “The Path of Sun demands blood,” the Fire Tail khan yelled. He’d been chosen as fight master for the final event, no doubt as much for his loyalty to Onggur and the Red Sky as for his showmanship. “This fight will end not when one combatant yields but when one combatant can no longer pick himself — or herself — up off the field. What say you?”

  “The sand hears; the sun remembers!” the stadium full of Equians called.

  Aluna and Tal stood behind Khan Kutula as he addressed the crowd. Aluna could feel Scorch waiting to her right, only a few meters away. She didn’t look. She didn’t want to give that woman any chances to get inside her head before the fight. Even so, she could feel Scorch’s presence, sleek and dangerous. An eel hidden in the shadows, waiting to strike.

  “Let the sun herself declare our winner!”

  The crowd cheered. Tal shifted restlessly. Aluna wanted to comfort her but couldn’t. She was too anxious herself. Be still as a starfish; be calm as Big Blue. The phrase felt so strange now, when she was so far away from the ocean.

  Khan Kutula turned to face Aluna and Scorch.

  “Honor demands a clean fight,” he said. “To finish as the sun sets will bring luck to all the herds.” He looked at Aluna. “To end the fight, stay down. I will give you a few moments to stand, but if you do not, I will call the victor.”

  Aluna nodded. No one in this entire arena thought she had a chance. She and Tal turned to face Scorch. Aluna forced herself to look at her enemy, expecting to find the same heartless shark eyes that Fathom had possessed. But Scorch’s brown eyes were different. More Human. More like Karl Strand’s.

  “Show your respects,” Khan Kutula yelled.

  Aluna and Scorch bowed to the crowds. Aluna turned and bowed to Scorch, but her opponent only crossed her arms and laughed. So that’s how she’ll play this, Aluna thought.

  “Take your places,” Kutula told them. He reached over his back and unsheathed a massive sword of black metal.

  Aluna and Tal stepped backward to their starting spots. Aluna kept her eyes on Scorch. Only a tiny part of her watched Kutula slash his sword down and shout, “It has begun!”

  Her talons were in her palms, ready to go. She spun them at her sides until they whirred into silvery blurs. Tal reared up on her hind legs, shook her head, and let loose a war cry.

  Scorch charged. She held no weapon in her hands, but that only made Aluna more wary.

  “Careful,” she whispered to Tal. “Give me an angle.”

  Tal jumped right. Aluna let loose a talon chain, hoping to wrap it around Scorch’s arm. She would have aimed for her neck, but back in Mirage, it had been impenetrable. Even so, Scorch had to have a weakness somewhere. Aluna would try every location until she found it.

  Her talon whipped around Scorch’s arm. Aluna pulled and . . . nothing. Scorch didn’t even seem to notice. She continued to speed straight toward them. A glint of silver and Aluna finally saw the blade. It cut through the palm of Scorch’s hand and extended almost half a meter. It had been inside the flesh of her arm all along.

  Aluna readied her shield. She let her other talon fly and watched it wrap around Scorch’s sword.

  Something was wrong. Scorch’s angle. She’d need to change course to hit Aluna, unless . . .

  “Tal, move!” she shouted.

  But it was too late. Scorch wasn’t charging Aluna at all; she was aiming for her horse.

  Time seemed to slow down. Aluna saw Scorch’s blade driving toward Tal’s chest, straight toward her heart. Aluna yanked on her talon so har
d that her shoulder threatened to rip. It didn’t do much. Scorch’s blade slid slightly left and plunged into Tal’s flesh.

  TAL SCREAMED. She reared up, and Scorch’s blade fell free in a spray of blood. The crowd fell silent, as shocked as Aluna. Equians never attacked each other’s horse body. Not near the heart. Not trying for a deathblow. Not ever.

  “Away,” Aluna said, dropping her talons. There wasn’t time to unhook them from Scorch. Tal lurched into an uneven gallop, still crying from the pain. Aluna felt tears well in her eyes and blinked furiously. As Tal ran, Aluna reached down and popped the latches holding her ankles against Tal’s side.

  “Go,” Aluna said to Tal. “You’re done. Get out of here!”

  Tal whinnied and started to slow. Aluna unhooked her knees and slid off Tal’s back. She landed hard on the ground and barely managed to keep her balance. Scorch was already headed for them again, a cruel smile on her face.

  “Run!” Aluna yelled again, and smacked Tal’s flank. This time, Tal obeyed. Aluna blinked again. Nathif could fix her. Nathif had to fix her. No matter what happened to Aluna, Tal had to live.

  The Path of Sun demands blood.

  Scorch arrived in a blur of motion. Aluna blocked her blade with the metal band of Hoku’s force shield. Even so, the power of the blow knocked her backward. She stumbled and whipped her dagger out of its waist sheath. She swiped it at Scorch’s face before she fell.

  Scorch jerked her head back, but not fast enough. The sharp tip of Aluna’s knife sliced across her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood. A shallow wound. But maybe enough to make her angry.

  It did. Another blade slid out of Scorch’s other hand. She sliced away the talon weapon dangling from her arm and attacked. Her strikes fell so quickly that Aluna couldn’t even see them. She twisted her shield arm, and a huge shimmering circle instantly appeared between her and Scorch. Scorch’s blades crashed into the shield and bounced off in a shower of sparks.