Across the Dark Water

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  “Who is it?” whispered a voice from the other side of the door.

  “It’s me,” Rahkki answered.

  Koko cracked open the door and peeked out. “Bloody rain, what yuh doin’ ’ere so early?”

  “I came to see the wild brayas.”

  The head groom yanked him inside. “Well, aren’t yuh two sneaks a pair,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “What?” Rahkki didn’t understand Koko sometimes due to her odd accent. Her parents lived alone on the coast as hermits, and they’d raised Koko there, outside of the clan for most of her life. But when Koko outgrew the beach and returned to the Fifth Clan a year ago, she’d quickly secured a job in the Kihlari stable. Within months she was running it. Now she lived in a loft above the tack room that held the saddles and bridles, so she was never far from her charges. But sometimes, like now, her accent confused him. “What two sneaks?” he asked.

  “Yuh and ’er!”

  Rahkki followed Koko’s gaze and spotted the queen’s eldest daughter, Princess I’Lenna. She was standing in front of the blue roan’s stall. He froze as though he were staring down a panther instead of a princess. I’Lenna was eleven, a year younger than he, but she was taller. She wore a yellow silk nightdress and rabbit-fur slippers, and

  her long, sun-streaked hair hung in an untidy braid. She seemed as surprised to see him as he to see her. Then she smiled, and turbulent feelings erupted inside Rahkki. After all, this girl’s mother had murdered his.

  Koko snorted, looking from one to the other. “Right. Yuh two chat; I got work ta do.”

  I’Lenna stepped toward him, her eyes shining. “Hi, Rahkki.” Her cheerful tone struck him like a physical force, and he fell back. But she didn’t stop; she closed the gap between them. “I couldn’t wait to see the mares either,” she said. “Just look at them!” She turned back toward Firo’s and Sula’s stalls, and exhaled in wonder. “They’re incredible! I want to ride them, don’t you?”

  Rahkki swallowed and approached the mares, giving I’Lenna a wide berth. The last time he remembered playing with her was two years earlier. She’d snuck out of the fortress disguised as a villager to play tag in the fallows, the unplanted fields in the lowlands. She’d passed out candy to all the Sandwen kids. Everyone liked her; he remembered that. And he’d liked her too.

  “Well,” I’Lenna pressed, “don’t you want to ride them?”

  “They aren’t trained,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I know that. I didn’t mean right now. I’m just imagining.”

  He studied the mares. The injured blue roan was asleep, no doubt because of the drugs that Brim Carver had given her. The silver one, Sula, was nickering at her friend as if trying to wake her.

  “I think they can talk to each other like we do,” I’Lenna said.

  Rahkki’s heart stuttered. Was she serious? His eyes grazed I’Lenna’s features. Her expression was sincere, and she rocked on her toes, awaiting his response. Rahkki flushed and lowered his voice. He didn’t know anyone else who felt the way he did, that the Kihlari spoke to one another. “I think you’re right,” he said.

  “Really?” She seemed delighted with that.

  He exhaled and relaxed. I’Lenna was the crown princess of his clan, the first heir to the throne, but she was also a kid. “No one believes me,” Rahkki said. “The Kihlari sound like horses to us, but I think they have their own language.” He gestured toward the mares. “I think these two are friends.”

  “Of course they are.” I’Lenna leaned over the stall door and stretched her free hand toward the blue roan.

  “Careful,” he warned her. “They don’t like us.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said. “I already tried to pet that one.” I’Lenna’s eyes drifted to Sula. “She’s angry, and I don’t

  blame her. It must be scary here, locked up in a barn after living free.”

  Rahkki watched I’Lenna watch the mares. “Where do you think they came from?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Could be from anywhere, right? Maybe they’re a gift from the wind spirits, or maybe they rose out of the foam in the sea, or maybe they’re fallen stars.”

  “Fallen stars?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Rahkki finally returned her smile, adding, “Or they could have escaped from a clan Ruk a long time ago and learned to survive in the jungle.”

  She frowned. “That’s possible, I guess, but I’ve never heard of a clan losing their Kihlari.”

  “True,” he said. Around adults, Rahkki rarely spoke, and he didn’t talk with kids much either. Born royal and then cast out an orphan—the clan kids acted awkward around him. But now, talking to I’Lenna about the wild Kihlari, he was reminded of how much he missed playing. “Okay, here’s one,” he said, letting his imagination loose. “Maybe they were statues in Daakur. They came to life and escaped the empire.”

  I’Lenna leaned toward him, nodding. “Yes,” she said. “What else?”

  “Or they flew here from another land, one we haven’t discovered.”

  “Right,” she added, “and then they got lost. Now they’re trying to get back home, but they can’t because they’re trapped.”

  “That would make me angry,” said Rahkki.

  “Me too.”

  Rahkki snapped his finger. “What if their land got burned up? What if they’re the only survivors?”

  I’Lenna took his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Or maybe it’s something completely different?”

  Rahkki’s mind went blank as he stared at the princess’s small hand holding his.

  “Maybe they aren’t really here. Maybe we’re imagining them,” she continued.

  The barn door creaked open. “Princess I’Lenna!” Harak’s voice snapped at her like a whip.

  She dropped Rahkki’s hand and stood taller. “Yes.”

  Harak strode down the aisle and leaned over the princess, his jaw twitching. “How did you get out of the fortress?”

  “I walked.” I’Lenna said this with such a straight face that Rahkki snorted back a giggle.

  Harak squinted at her, his green eyes hard and cool.

  “You know what I meant. Do you have permission to be out? From your mother?”

  She shook her head, and Rahkki gaped at her. The guards weren’t allowed to let the bloodborn princesses out of the fortress without Lilliam’s consent. So how did she do it?

  But then he remembered that I’Lenna snuck out of Fort Prowl all the time—and not just to play in the fallows with the other kids. I’Lenna was a thief. She stole candy, lots of it. She smuggled it out of Fort Prowl’s larders and hid it beneath kids’ pillows, slinking into their rooms at night like a rat.

  She’d done it to Rahkki once. He’d woken with a peppermint stuck to his ear.

  I’Lenna also lifted medicines from her mother’s Borla, the clan healer. She slipped them to the young mothers in the village. Rahkki knew this because I’Lenna had been caught once and flogged for it, but that hadn’t broken her. A few days after her flogging, he’d seen her pocket more remedies from the medical clinic and run off with them, grinning like a gibbon.

  And it wasn’t because she was defiant or malicious. I’Lenna was trying to help. When Rahkki’s mother was queen, she’d dispensed medicine for free—most clans did.

  But when I’Lenna’s mother took over, she began charging villagers for it. She also collected tithes from the Fifth Clan—like the emperor did to his subjects in Daakur. Her greed was insatiable, probably because she hailed from the Second Clan, the poorest in the Sandwen Realm. But while none of Lilliam’s new laws made her a popular queen, stealing medicines and giving them to poor mothers had made I’Lenna a popular princess.

  Harak, who was glowering at I’Lenna, seemed to be on the same line of thinking as Rahkki. “You snuck out again, didn’t you?”

  Princess I’Lenna said nothing. Her back was straight, like an arrow, and her eyes burned through Harak. “I’ll return to my mother now,�
�� she said. “You may go back to doing whatever it was you were doing, Harak Nightseer.” I’Lenna about-faced and exited the barn without a backward glance.

  Rahkki made the mistake of chuckling. Harak turned and slapped Rahkki so hard that he knocked him off his boots and into Sula’s stall door. “You like what you see?” he asked.

  Stunned, Rahkki picked himself up. Was Harak talking about I’Lenna or the wild mares?

  The Headwind sneered, grinning like a jaguar. “Keep

  away from the princess, yeah?”

  Rahkki gulped. “Yeah.”

  Harak tossed back his blond hair, smirking now. “Those wild Kihlari are bonier than you are.”

  Rahkki said nothing.

  The Headwind put his arm around him like they were friends. “I like that one,” he said, pointing at the sleeping blue roan. “She has eyes like ice. Yeah? You like her too?”

  “She’ll make a good pet,” Rahkki replied. “The silver one is the warrior.”

  “Hah, see? You’ve already picked one out. You belong in the clouds, little farmer, not on land.” He poked at Rahkki, laughing.

  Tuni Hightower arrived in the barn just as the morning bells rang down from the fortress, and she saw Rahkki cringing away from her counterpart. “Back off him, Harak.”

  “We’re just talking,” he said, looking at her with wide eyes.

  She huffed and stalked off, calling for Koko, the head groom.

  Harak winked at Rahkki, mouthing the words “little farmer,” and then he left too.

  Rahkki turned to the silver mare that he thought

  would make a fine warrior. “Where did you come from?” he asked her.

  Sula narrowed her eyes and rattled her feathers.

  He gathered his satchel and backpack, wondering if he’d ever find out. Then he left the barn and began the long walk to Uncle’s farm.

  15

  Grounded

  ECHOFROST WATCHED THE YOUNG LANDWALKER cub walk out of the barn, feeling nervous. She didn’t like how the yellow-haired one called Harak had struck him. “Shysong!” she neighed. “Are you awake?”

  “Huh?” said the mare.

  Echofrost guessed she was still groggy from the Landwalker medicine. “It’s me, Echofrost. Are you hurt?”

  Shysong stood and slid her head over the wall between them. Her blue eyes blinked slowly. “Oh no, they caught you too?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just listen, okay? I’m going to get us out of here. I haven’t figured out how yet, but I will.” She’d thought it’d be as easy as kicking down a wall and

  storming out of the barn, but the walls were too solid, and the netting over their heads kept them trapped.

  “Where’s our herd? Did anyone else get captured?” Shysong nickered.

  “No, just me. The others . . . they left, I’m sure.”

  “Good. I’m glad they got away,” she said. “The mission to find a new home is more important than you or me.”

  Echofrost winced. Shysong didn’t know she’d come back for her on purpose, and the roan would feel conflicted if she found out. Echofrost decided not to correct the mare’s assumption that she’d been captured against her will.

  Just then the Landwalker called Brauk peered over Echofrost’s stall door. Harak had returned with him, and behind them was another big male who she hadn’t seen before. Echofrost took a sharp breath. Don’t move, don’t fight—study them, she reminded herself, but her pulse thumped hard in her throat.

  Brauk glanced at the trampled hay and overturned water bucket. “She’s not eating or drinking.”

  “Then she’ll be weak and this will be easier,” Harak said. He clutched a long stick in his hand, and he twirled it so fast it blurred.

  Brauk frowned and turned to Echofrost. “This is a halter,” he said to her. “And you’re going to wear it.”

  Opening her door, he reached out and tried to slip the contraption over her head. Echofrost panicked and flew to the back of her stall. Brauk produced a stick similar to Harak’s and followed her, brandishing it at her throat. She lunged, jaws wide, and Harak leaped to help Brauk. They struck at her chest, driving her deeper into the corner until her flanks brushed against the wood. Quivering now, Echofrost peered past Brauk, thinking to dart around him. But he saw the flick of her eyes and the collection of her muscles. He smacked her again. “No!”

  She recoiled. The pain reminded her of a wasp sting. No! A hundred wasp stings!

  While she was stunned, Brauk slipped the halter over her ears. She snapped at him, and he clubbed her over the head so hard that her vision flickered.

  Echofrost whinnied for help. Her scream pierced the wood walls and rose into the sky, carrying for miles; but there was no answer, only Brauk covering his ears and Harak laughing. In Anok, a thousand warriors would have flown to her aid.

  Ilan, Harak’s spotted stallion, neighed to her. “Don’t fight him, wildling. He’s not going to kill you.”

  “He—he hit me,” Echofrost sputtered.

  “He’ll hit you again if you don’t calm down. You came

  from a herd, right? Think of Brauk as your leader and do what he wants.”

  “What does he want?” Echofrost snapped as the pain subsided into a dull ache.

  “If we’re lucky, it’s to bathe you,” said Kol.

  The few Kihlari still in the barn nickered at her, and Echofrost gasped. They thought this was funny!

  Brauk shifted and pulled something soft over her eyes, making the world go dark. She tossed her head and reared, but the soft hood wouldn’t come loose. Then hard pressure cut into her nose as Brauk tugged hard on her halter. She dropped to all fours, confused and blinded, but the horrible pressure immediately stopped. Next she felt Brauk touching her wings and she yanked them out of his grasp. “What’s he doing to my feathers?” she whinnied.

  The neighboring Kihlari steeds went silent.

  “Help me!” Brauk called to his friends.

  She heard the extra Landwalkers he’d brought with him rush toward her. Brauk pinched her muzzle in his hand and squeezed. His grip was like the bite of a puma, and her instincts told her to hold still. She felt ropes tighten around her legs.

  With a sharp tug, they yanked her off her hooves and she slammed onto the hard floor. Her chest heaved as

  she absorbed the pain, and Echofrost felt like a weanling again, like when she’d been attacked by Mountain Herd yearlings. Now she squealed angrily and clamped down the feelings that were erupting inside of her—helplessness and rage; they mixed together and lit a storm inside her.

  The Landwalkers grabbed her hooves and rolled her onto her back. One sat on her neck while the others held her down. Her fast breaths filled her ears, like she’d dived into an icy pond.

  Next they gripped her wings and stretched them out. Then she heard clicking noises, and Brauk’s hot breath filled her nostrils, stinking of meat. She couldn’t see, couldn’t think.

  Then just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Brauk and his friends leaped away from her and tugged the animal skin from her eyes. They released her front hooves and yanked on her halter, pulling her upright.

  She rose, trembling, and glared at Brauk. He held his club high, threatening her. Echofrost remembered Thundersky. He’d expected instant obedience, and as long as he had it, he never hurt her. Echofrost lowered her head, though it crushed her soul to do so. Don’t strike him, she told herself, her legs trembling. There are too many of them. The time isn’t right.

  But what had the Landwalkers done to her wings? She fanned them, noticing they felt different, lighter. Then she saw the damage and she reeled, inhaling sharply. Brauk had sliced off the ends of her flight feathers. She backed away in horror and heard crunching noises beneath her hooves. She looked down. The cuttings from her beautiful purple feathers lay crumpled on the stall floor.

  Echofrost panted, and her blood rushed between her ears. She felt dizzy and sick. She whinnied. “No, no!” Violent shudders ran from her ears
to her tail.

  Brauk stared at her with some compassion in his eyes. “Sorry, braya, but we can’t have you flying away.”

  She couldn’t understand his words, so she whinnied to the Kihlari. “He . . . he cut my feathers!” Echofrost expected sympathetic outrage from the foreign pegasi. Brauk had grounded her, like a horse!

  “They’ll grow back,” said Ilan, who was yawning in the heat. “He just doesn’t want you getting away until he knows what to do with you.”

  Echofrost slowed her breathing and swiveled her head toward Brauk. She’d vowed to kill his little brother when she escaped, but now she changed her mind. Brauk would be the first to die. Blast it! Why wait? She reared to strike him, but Brauk was ready. He slammed his club down on

  her forehead, making her stagger into the barn wall. Her vision blackened, and she gasped for breath.

  Then Brauk pulled hard on her halter, and Echofrost automatically walked forward to relieve the pressure. In a daze of pain and anger, she followed him, glaring at his back. She imagined how he’d feel if she broke his legs, rendering him unable to walk. But from the depth of her anger rose knowledge; it floated up like a bubble and popped open inside her mind: Brauk had cut her flight feathers to correct an imbalance of power between them—the fact that she could fly and he couldn’t. But her feathers would grow back; and when they did, she could fly away, shifting the power back to her. She stored that information for later.