Across the Dark Water
Page 1
Dedication
FOR DAVID, SLAYER OF GIANTS
AND FINDER OF LOST THINGS
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Sandwen Clans
Kihlari
Storm Herd
Gorlan Hordes
Maps
1. Rahkki
2. Bloodborn
3. Leaving Anok
4. Storm Herd
5. The Southern Continent
6. Smoke
7. Flying Free
8. Kihlari
9. Breakdown
10. The Plan
11. The Wildling
12. Trapped
13. Playing Stones
14. The Princess
15. Grounded
16. Hunger
17. The Farmer
18. The Landwalker Cub
19. Leshi Creek
20. Acceptance
21. The Kihlari Ancestors
22. The Queen
23. Shame
24. Raid
25. Defense
26. Help
27. Stopping Time
28. Destruction
29. Crumbling
30. Not a Dog
31. The Blanket
32. The Visit
33. The Longest Day of the Year
34. Auction
35. Harak
36. Contest
37. Grief
38. Viper
39. The Contenders
40. Flight
41. The Chase
42. The Nest
43. Broken Promises
44. Sula
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Praise for Riders of the Realm
Books by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez
Back Ads
Copyright
About the Publisher
Epigraph
“A promise born is a promise dying.
Let actions speak where tongues are lying.”
—Ancient Sandwen proverb
Sandwen Clans
Humans
BRIM CARVER—animal doctor of the Fifth Clan
KOKO DALE—age fifteen; head groom of the Kihlari stable of the Fifth Clan Sky Guard
MUT FINN—age fifteen; leader of the Sandwen teens, kids too old for games but too young for war
TUNI HIGHTOWER—Headwind of Dusk Patrol, member of the Fifth Clan Sky Guard. Kihlara mount: Rizah
HARAK NIGHTSEER—Headwind of Day Patrol, member of the Fifth Clan Sky Guard. Kihlara mount: Ilan
BRAUK STORMRUNNER—Rahkki’s brother, Headwind of Dawn Patrol, member of the Fifth Clan Sky Guard. Kihlara mount: Kol
UNCLE DARTHAN STORMRUNNER—rice farmer of the Fifth Clan, supplies free rations to the queen’s Land Guard army. Uncle to Brauk and Rahkki on their mother’s side.
RAHKKI STORMRUNNER—age twelve; farmer’s apprentice of the Fifth Clan
DAAKURAN EMPIRE—across the bay from the Sandwen Realm is the empire, a highly populated land of commerce and academics. Common language of the empire: Talu
SANDWEN CLANS—seven clans of people each ruled by a monarch queen. Clan language: Sandwen
REYELLA STORMRUNNER—past queen of the Fifth Clan, assassinated by Lilliam Whitehall, mother of Rahkki and Brauk Stormrunner. Kihlara mount: Drael
GENERAL AKMID TSUN—commander of the Land Guard army
PRINCESS I’LENNA WHITEHALL—age eleven; eldest daughter of Queen Lilliam of the Fifth Clan
QUEEN LILLIAM WHITEHALL—Leader of the Fifth Clan, prior princess of the Second Clan. Also referred to as Queen of the Fifth. Kihlara mount: Mahrsan
QUEEN TAVARA WHITEHALL—leader of the Second Clan, mother of Lilliam Whitehall, I’Lenna’s grandmother
Sandwen Clan Divinities
GRANAK—“Father of Dragons,” guardian mascot of the Fifth Clan. Sixteen-foot-tall, thirty-three-foot-long drooling lizard called a spit dragon
KAJI(sing.), KAJIES(pl.)—troublesome or playful spirits
THE SEVEN SISTERS—the royal founders of the seven Sandwen clans
SULA—“Mother of Serpents,” guardian mascot of the Second Clan. Forty-two-foot-long jungle python
SUNCHASER—the moon
Kihlari
(KEE-lar-ee) (pl.), Kihlara (sing.)
Translation: “Children of the Wind”
Tame pegasi of the Sandwen Clans
DRAEL—Queen Reyella’s Chosen stallion. Small bay with black-tipped dark-amber feathers, fluffy black mane and tail, white muzzle, four white socks
ILAN—white stallion with black spots, black mane and tail, dark-silver wings edged in black
KOL—shiny chestnut stallion with bright-yellow feathers, yellow-streaked red mane and tail, white blaze, two white hind socks
MAHRSAN—Queen Lilliam’s Chosen stallion. Blood-bay with sapphire-blue feathers edged in white, black mane and tail, jagged white blaze, four white socks
RIZAH—golden palomino pinto mare with dark-pink feathers edged in gold, white-and-gold-mixed mane and tail
Storm Herd
Wild pegasi from Anok
DEWBERRY—bay pinto mare with emerald feathers, black mane and tail, thin blaze on forehead, two white hind anklets
ECHOFROST—sleek silver mare with a mix of dark- and light-purple feathers, white mane and tail, one white sock
GRAYSTONE—white stallion with pale-yellow feathers each with a silver center, blue eyes, silver mane and tail
HAZELWIND—buckskin stallion with jade feathers, black mane and tail, big white blaze, two white hind socks
REDFIRE—tall copper chestnut stallion with dark-gold feathers, dark-red mane and tail, white star on forehead
SHYSONG—blue roan mare with dusty-blue feathers edged in black, ice-blue eyes, black mane and tail, jagged blaze, two hind socks
Gorlan Hordes
Giant Folk
Living in the mountains in three separate hordes—Highland Horde, Fire Horde, and Great Cave Horde. They stand from eleven to fourteen feet tall. Language: Gorlish, a form of sign language
Maps
1
Rahkki
EVERY SANDWEN CHILD DREAMED OF RIDING A winged horse, though most never would, and one would rather not. Rahkki Stormrunner of the Fifth Clan threaded between the trees, hunting for new fighting beetles. Spotting a crumbling log that looked promising, he shoved it with his boot. It splintered, and a small green snake whipped out and into the brush. Rahkki wiggled the rotting trunk and listened for the hissing song of a scarab. But it was the cry of gibbons that filled his ears. A family crashed through the trees overhead, whooping as they swung from branch to branch. “Tshh,” Rahkki hissed. “Quiet.”
The gibbons paused midswing and cocked their heads toward him.
Rahkki’s scalp tingled. The little apes were angry, clearly chasing something, and they didn’t like trespassers.
The largest adult rounded his lips and hooted. The entire family had halted their pursuit to stare at the young boy. If they rushed him . . . Rahkki shivered, imagining their sharp teeth in his flesh.
Then, with a sudden chill, a huge shadow blanketed Rahkki and the log.
Whoosh! The apes fled, making the trees shake, and Rahkki wondered what had scared them off. A dragon? A horde of giants? A panther?
Not wanting to find out, he bolted, running as fast as he could toward his clan’s territory. The huge shadow passed over him, then another, and Rahkki heard the rhythmic flapping of wings. He slowed and a wide grin spread across his face.
Overhead, glittering feathers, shining hides, and polished armor blocked out the sun—it was his brother’s squad of Riders, flying b
ack from patrol. Eighty winged horses, each ridden by a Sandwen warrior, glided in formation, their hooves striking the clouds. There were a
total of three squads in the Fifth Clan’s Sky Guard, and Brauk Stormrunner was the Headwind of his. The flying steeds were called Kihlari, which meant “Children of the Wind,” and they were sacred in the Sandwen Realm.
“Land to skies, Rahkki!” his brother shouted down to him. “How many times have I said it? Don’t run in the jungle.” Brauk waved his squad to continue on without him and guided his stallion lower. “Is there something after you?”
“Nah,” Rahkki yelled back. “Just gibbons.”
“Gibbons are something. Hold on, I’ll pick you up.”
Rahkki grimaced. “It’s fine, they’re gone. I’ll walk back to the fortress.”
Brauk’s Kihlara mount, a muscular chestnut named Kol, angled between the Kapok trees and touched down beside Rahkki. Snorting, the stallion dropped his muzzle toward the boy and lipped at his pockets for treats. Rahkki patted Kol’s steaming neck, then glanced up at his brother. “You’re back early.”
“Yeah, there are giants afoot.” At the word giants, Brauk leaned over and spit on the ground. The Fifth Clan and the Gorlan hordes had been at war for a thousand years over stolen farmlands. “What are you doing out here alone?”
“Hunting for beetles to sell at the Clan Gathering.”
Brauk tossed him a weary look. “We need real coin, Brother, not the few jints you’ll get for a couple of wild beetles. Come on, give me your hand.”
Rahkki stared at his brother’s extended arm, his cheeks burning. Brauk knew his secret—that he was afraid of heights—but that didn’t stop his older brother from forcing him to ride Kol, probably even encouraging it.
Brauk cursed him in Talu, the language of the Daakuran Empire across the bay. “Sa jin, Rahkki, don’t make me drag you home.”
So Rahkki threw up his hand, and his brother lifted him easily onto Kol’s rump. “Yah!” Brauk hollered. The chestnut galloped forward, wings flapping, and then glided off the soil, leaving Rahkki’s belly floating behind him. Gripping Brauk’s waist tight, Rahkki closed his eyes as the stallion gained altitude. His brother chattered about the giants. “They’re sharpening spears, preparing to fight,” he said. “We’re reporting this straight to the queen.”
Brauk’s deep rumbling voice soothed Rahkki. The boy opened his eyes and watched the trees shrink below them. They flew so high that the forest appeared like a child’s play set, or a Daakuran painting. Huge drifting clouds
layered the sky above them and a warm breeze ruffled their hair.
Rahkki balanced on Kol’s back, watching the stallion’s giant yellow-feathered wings push down on the wind. When a flock of parrots crossed their path, the stallion cranked back his neck and whinnied at them, sending the poor birds into a frenzied dive. Rahkki knew he was safe; Kol was an excellent Flier, and Rahkki knew how envious other kids felt when they saw him flying, but no amount of knowing could quell the sour clench of his stomach each time he looked down.
Finally, Fort Prowl came into view. The high-walled stone octagon sat on top of a hill that was surrounded by the Fifth Clan village, farmlands, and stables. This was the home of their queen, her private guards and servants, her Borla—a clan wise man and healer—and the queen’s three princess daughters. The clan’s land soldiers and Sky Guard Riders lived in seven of the eight forty-length towers.
Brauk tugged on the reins, and Kol descended quickly, leaving Rahkki breathless. Brauk’s patrol had arrived already and landed in the courtyard. Moments later, Kol crested the fortress walls and touched down beside them. Rahkki leaped off the stallion’s back so fast that several Sky Guard Riders laughed at him.
“Tie Kol up and wait for me,” Brauk commanded, tossing him the reins. Rahkki was his brother’s stable groom, and it was his job to take care of Kol, but today was his last day. The boy stiffened, unwilling to think about tomorrow. With the Gorlan giants preparing to attack and the Clan Gathering fast approaching, Brauk needed Rahkki now more than ever. But Brauk didn’t have a wealthy family or a sponsor like the other Riders. He had no means to buy new weapons or hay for his stallion—the private inheritance they’d received after their mother died was gone, spent. So the boys had decided that Rahkki would accept an apprenticeship on their uncle’s rice farm and send his wages to Brauk. It was settled and there was no sense dwelling on it.
Rahkki led Kol to the hitching post, tied a slipknot, and then followed his brother into the fortress to eavesdrop on his meeting with the queen.
2
Bloodborn
“CALL THE DRAGON,” QUEEN LILLIAM SHOUTED. “I won’t fight the giants without a good omen from our mascot.”
From his position in the Great Hall, Rahkki and the other snooping grooms had been unable to overhear the Sky Guard’s meeting with the queen, but the result of it was clear enough when she shouted for their guardian mascot—Granak, the Father of Dragons. The queen would offer the gigantic lizard a fattened sow. If he ate it, they’d fight. If he didn’t, Lilliam would consider that a terrible omen. She’d keep the warriors home.
Rahkki flattened himself against the wall as Lilliam’s advisers tromped out of her command chamber, their faces
grim. General Akmid Tsun, the leader of the Fifth Clan Land Guard, had been called last into the chamber when the meeting started. Now he was the first to exit, his scarred body sheened in sweat. Once outside, he whistled for his soldiers. The rest of Lilliam’s advisers filed out behind him, including Rahkki’s brother.
As Brauk passed, Rahkki leaped into his shadow, following closely. When they were out of earshot, Rahkki’s questions exploded. “What happened? Why is the queen calling Granak? Are the giants that close?”
Brauk’s golden eyes were full of thoughts, but none of them for Rahkki. He pressed on, heading toward Kol at the hitching post. Then Brauk spotted Harak Nightseer, the second of the three Headwinds, coming out of the queen’s private quarters. “Ay, Harak, there you are,” Brauk called, coming to a halt.
Harak whirled around, his eyes narrowed and twitching. “Yeah, Stormrunner, what do you want?”
“Follow me, I’m calling a meeting of the Headwinds.”
“Now?”
Brauk frowned at the lean warrior, just a few years older than he. “Yes, now. We can’t wait, can we? Not with the Gorlan hordes on the move.”
“Are the giants scouting or hunting?” Rahkki
whispered, tugging on his brother’s tunic.
Brauk shrugged him off, focusing on Harak. “You got something better to do?” he asked his counterpart.
They glared at each other, Harak breathing out his nose, Brauk rolling on the balls of his feet. Rahkki closed his eyes. Don’t fight. Please don’t fight. Eight years of his brother’s squabbles surfaced in his mind—the smack of fist on flesh, the cursing, the dripping blood. Brauk hadn’t been so easy to set off when they were younger. As princes of their clan—bloodborn descendants of the Seven Sisters who’d founded the Sandwen Realm—they’d been wealthy and content. The past Queen of the Fifth, Reyella Stormrunner, was their mother, and she’d loved them ferociously. But the brothers had been Reyella’s only children and, being males, they could not rule. This had left their mother’s crown without an heir and vulnerable.
Eight years ago, a bloodborn princess from the Second Clan named Lilliam Whitehall had pounced on Reyella’s weakness. She assassinated the boys’ mother and took her throne, becoming the Fifth’s new monarch. And since Sandwen queens didn’t marry or identify the fathers of their children, the orphan princes lost all privilege and purpose. After that, Brauk’s love of sport had taken an aggressive turn, and he’d begun scrapping with any man,
animal, or reptile willing to brawl. Rahkki opened his eyes just as the tension between the two Headwinds dispersed.
“Right,” Harak said, exhaling. “Now is fine, yeah, but Tuni’s not here. She flew to the trading post to fetch her mum.
”
“Bloody rain, she couldn’t wait?”
Harak shrugged.
Brauk fiddled with the bright Kihlara feather tied to his wrist, one that had molted off his beloved stallion. “We’ll meet tonight then, after Lilliam feeds the dragon. She won’t let us fly unless the feeding goes well anyway.”
Harak led them out of the hall, and the three headed back the way the brothers had come. Rahkki skipped alongside them, feeling important until Brauk slowed and faced him. “What are you doing, Rahkki?”
“Nothing.”
His brother leaned over him. “You’re following me. You should be tending Kol.”
Rahkki swallowed; he didn’t want to miss anything. Soon he’d be living on a distant farm with their uncle—he dreaded it, but most of all he dreaded losing his brother. They’d shared a room in the fortress for the last eight years, but starting tomorrow, Rahkki would sleep alone. His eyes grew hot. “Yes, I’m following you.”
Harak rolled his eyes. “I’m off, yeah. I’ll see you lovebirds later.” He grinned, showing his sharp teeth, and left them.
Brauk ignored the slight, keeping his eyes on Rahkki. “Don’t be sad,” he ordered his younger brother.
“Okay,” Rahkki said, as if it were that simple.
Brauk crossed his arms and every muscle beneath his tanned skin flexed. He was twenty-one, tall, and fierce. He had the same black hair and golden eyes as Rahkki, but their similarities ended there. Rahkki was the shortest twelve-year-old in the clan. Brauk said he was strong for his size, but unless Rahkki planned to fight against nine-year-olds, that wasn’t helpful. His brother graced him with a rare smile. “I’ll see you tonight, okay? Now tend to Kol; he flew hard today.”