by Alice Ivinya
I wondered how having Old Blood in his veins affected him. “Do you… sometimes hear voices?”
He tilted his head towards me. “Like your bird in the hunt? Yes. I hear fleeting words from the wolves and foxes, even as we must hunt them down to protect the livestock. Many of the forest animals with a trace of the Old Blood report what they see to Tama’ha. We can’t let her be all seeing.”
I thought about asking if he heard other voices, but I didn’t want to raise his suspicions. I couldn’t talk about the whisper I had heard in the garden without risking him knowing that it spoke my true name. How could anything know that? Maybe Falada was right, and I should just ignore it unless it posed more of a threat.
“What are the true Spirit-Birds like?” I asked instead.
“Huge. Deadly. Terrifying. Wild. We see mostly eagles here. Their leader is Jala’ban, and he has never really been up for negotiating. Tama’ha has sympathies towards us because we bear some of her bloodline. She and I have known each other ten years now.”
“And you think Jala’ban is behind Han’s death?”
He nodded. “From Tama’ha’s words, yes, or at least one of his underlings. She said you might betray your own kind.”
I looked out to the beautiful wilderness. “Does that mean I could find them more easily than you?”
He looked at me sharply, all softness from his features vanishing. “No. Don’t take this the wrong way, Elyanna. I respect you. But Jala’ban is more dangerous than Tama’ha. He’s a harpy eagle as large as a horse when his wings are folded. You are not strong enough to stand against him. If you ever see a full-blooded Spirit-Bird, you turn and run. Do you understand me?”
My chest clenched uncomfortably at his tone, and I laid a hand gently on his arm. “Jian, I understand the pain Feng’s death brought you, and that you believe it was your fault. But it was her decision to come here in disguise.” I hardened my voice. “I am not your servant or your prisoner. I will listen to your advice and respect your experience, but I won’t let you control every aspect of my life because of what happened to Feng.”
He looked away from me and there was pain in his eyes. I could see the walls forming behind his expression as it became cold and hard. “Highness.” He gave a sharp bow and strode away across the wall.
I watched his retreating back and bit my lip. Maybe I should have held my tongue. His advice had been common sense after all. We had been doing so well, but his heart had been shredded so many times by those he had lost. Maybe there was not enough left of himself to love again. I sighed and edged my way after him, slipping on the icy walkway. I guessed he wouldn’t be up for talking for the rest of the day. It was getting late, anyway.
One question niggled at me. If Jala’ban had really killed Han and his men and then disappeared back over the Border, was there anything we could do about it? If he could fly, this Fort meant little to him, other than protecting its inhabitants. We couldn’t go into their land and seek him out or invade. What was to stop him periodically flying into the Borderlands and picking us off one by one? What revenge or retribution was even possible?
I shivered as I walked down the endless stairs, and Cai Hong, quiet and pensive as ever, led me to the mess hall. The room was half full with soldiers, and I sat alone on a bench while Cai Hong joined the queue for the disgusting broth.
“Princess, come join us?” I looked across and saw Chen waving me over with a grin. He was surrounded by four other soldiers, two men and two women. One elbowed Chen with embarrassment, but another was looking at me with a hopeful expression.
“It’s alright,” hissed Chen to the first. “My mother’s letter said she wouldn’t mind. That she would like company.”
I pretended I hadn’t heard, smiled and sat down in the offered seat. “Thank you, Chen.”
He grinned and I was surprised how much he looked like Ruo. “Don’t hold your breath for the stew. I think it’s made from drowned rats.”
I looked at him in uncertain horror, and the woman beside Chen elbowed him. “Don’t listen to him, Princess. It’s chicken.” She wore her hair in a high long ponytail, but it looked dull and fragile, without any of the shine of the ladies in Stonekeep.
Chen waved his spoon at her. “How do you know? Many animals taste like chicken when they’re cooked.”
She rolled her eyes. “If they all taste the same, why do you care?” She took a deep bite and rose her eyebrows provocatively.
Another man harrumphed. His voice was so deep I could feel vibrations through the table. He was large enough to have some Old Blood in him. “It all tastes gross, is what it is.”
“Well what do you expect. It was fourth regiment’s turn hunting. They’re always the worst,” said the second woman. Her hair was slashed unevenly at her shoulders with a fringe that covered her eyes.
“Hey, Princess,” Chen turned to me. “Now that you’re marrying our general and everything, maybe you could sort us out some better food? There’s plenty of space in here for livestock.”
The girl with the fringe gasped. “Chen! You can’t speak to her like that.”
I held up my hand. “No, it’s quite alright.” I turned to Chen. “I barely know him yet. I don’t think he would appreciate my interference.”
The first girl swished her ponytail. “Really. Because ever since he came into the room, Prince Jian has been looking at you. I don’t think he’s heard a word the Captain has said to him.”
“Really?” I looked towards the front of the room and found Jian sitting with Captain Jun on the raised table. Our eyes met, making me miss a breath, and he looked away quickly as if it had been by chance.
I filled my lungs and let the air out slowly. “I upset him earlier, that’s probably why.”
The woman snorted.
“Or do you think he disapproves that I am sat with you instead of him? He wasn’t here when I first came.” It probably did come across as a slight.
Chen looked at me with wide eyes as he chewed the overcooked meat. “I think you’re overthinking things. This isn’t Stonekeep, where everything has to mean something. He just looked curious to me.”
The woman snorted again and shook her head.
The other woman spoke as she stirred her stew and ran her hand through her short hair. “You know, you’re a lucky one.”
I stared at her a moment, trying to catch her meaning, but she didn’t elaborate. I was feeling more and more lost in this conversation and was grateful when Cai Hong arrived with my stew. I busied myself with a mouthful so I didn’t have to reply.
It definitely tasted like it could be drowned rat.
“We’re leaving already? We only just got here.”
Hai Rong raised his eyebrows and laughed, the sound reverberating down the stone corridor. “You want to stay here?” He looked over my shoulder into my room. “Are you hiding something in there? Like a fire and a bath?”
I folded my arms. “It’s not that bad here. It’s exciting and beautiful. It’s only been three days since we arrived.”
Hai Rong snorted. “Says the person who is allowed to sit in Prince Jian’s office and sew in front of the fire.”
I folded my arms and gave him an amused look. “I thought we’d be here a week at least.”
Hai Rong sighed and his expression turned serious. “Prince Jian needs to report to Stonekeep, and it makes more sense to coordinate the patrols from there, considering Prince Han was attacked much further south. Whoever attacked him may still be on our side of the Border, so we’re staying a much shorter time than usual. They’re the priority.” He looked me up and down. “I think he also worries about your safety.”
I nodded but my mood fell. I feared Jian would stop being as open once we were back in Stonekeep. What if he became too busy to talk to me again? There was still so much I wanted to learn about this place.
I packed my few possessions and crammed all the letters and charms the soldiers had given me for their loved ones into my bag. For some reas
on, the sight of them all reminded me of my own parents and my throat constricted. I wasn’t sure how I could write to them as Brianna without endangering myself. I was under no illusions that my letters couldn’t easily be read by a number of people on their journey.
Falada was happy to be leaving and would barely keep still as I saddled him in the wide hall linked to the stables.
‘It’s too cold up here, and dark. Horses shouldn’t be kept in mountains. Tamunden always ran free across the plains.’ His nose nuzzled its way under my arm playfully. When I pushed him away so I could tighten his bridle, he yanked the end of my braid.
“Stop that, you pest!” I pushed his head away roughly and chuckled. “Now I’m going to have yucky horse saliva turning to ice in my hair.”
Falada shook out his mane in glee.
“Jian is speaking to me, Falada. He opened up a little, but I’m worried he’ll stop once we’re back in Stonekeep and he’s occupied with his brother’s death.”
‘Both your souls match when you talk.’
I gave him a strange look. “What does that mean?”
He pawed the ground in impatience to be under the open sky. It means you could work together well as a team. You complement each other.’
I snorted. “Sometimes I think you make all this soul stuff up.”
He regarded me with a large dark eye.’ Even you can see the shadow of them in the Old Bloods using the deep magic.’
I frowned. “The blue image around Tama’ha?”
The horse chewed on his bit, making it clink against his teeth. ‘The deep magic is dangerous because it starts to separate the soul from the body. The Spirit can go mad, and to us, our Spirit is who we are far more than our body. But I think it is better to be a Spiritless dull beast, than have no soul.’
I frowned as I led him out through the corridor to the mountain slope where the men were gathering in the snow. “You’ve never explained this to me before.”
‘You never asked. In Hava you couldn’t care less about the Old Blood.’
“Do I have a Spirit then?”
‘Yes. You have some Old Blood in you. You are part Spirit-Human.’
I laughed at the funny name. “Spirit-Human?”
He snorted and flicked his tail. ‘But I have more Spirit than you. It’s why you can’t see souls.’
I nudged him playfully and used a tree stump to pull myself into his saddle. Most of the men were already mounted, and there was something satisfying about being higher than them all.
Jian steered his black horse towards me. His face looked tired and his eyes had dark rims. I wondered when he had last slept.
“Are you ready, Elyanna?” His eyes were amused, and the question seemed directed at why I was sitting here laughing alone.
I giggled. “Falada just called me a Spirit-Human and then got offended when I laughed.”
The horse snorted clouds of steam.
“Spirit-Human.” Jian tasted the words. “Can’t say I am an enthusiast of the term.”
Falada yanked the reins. ‘He’s not an enthusiast of much, though, is he?’
I tried to suppress a laugh which then came out as a snort.
Jian watched me strangely. “I suspect I don’t want to know what he just said.”
“Falada’s just in a grumpy mood after being kept inside for a few days.” I leant forward and rubbed his neck.
“Hmm. Well he’ll be glad of the rest between two hard rides by this evening.” He eyed Falada’s head as he chomped on the bit.
I shook my head. “He would never admit to needing rest. He’s too stubborn.”
Falada gave a little buck that only made me laugh harder.
Jian’s lips twitched. “Come, we should ride.”
There had been fresh snowfall overnight and the horses’ hooves sank deep, even on the path. As much as Jian had talked about riding hard, the first hour was slow work until we reached higher ground where the snow was thinner, brushed from rocky ground by the wind, making strange patterns on its surface.
I glanced back at the Fort as it sank from view behind the rise and wondered if I would ever be back or see over the Border again. I wanted to see more of the Old Blood and that land of such beauty. Even the wind blew against us, as if tugging me back.
We reached a sheltered wooded valley, and I lowered my hood so that it was easier to look around. Hai Rong was monologuing to Cai Hong and Jeremiah looked pensive. I was about to fall back to ride beside him while there was no wind to shout over when Jian held a fist in the air. The horses stopped at once and every conversation died. I searched the trees but could see nothing.
Jian turned to Captain Jun who rode beside him. “Do you hear that?”
The captain paused, then nodded. “It’s coming nearer.” He drew his sword and the hiss of the metal seemed amplified by the snowy sides of the valley. Every man around me freed their weapons, but I struggled to free mine from the scabbard, where ice had locked it shut.
Jian turned, his body animated. “It’s a Nameless. Guard the Princess in the center. She is our priority.” He pointed to Jeremiah with his sword. “Do not leave her side.”
Before I could respond, men had surrounded me in a circle, and Jeremiah’s horse was pressed against mine facing the other way. Cai Hong and Hai Rong positioned themselves at opposite angles on my other side.
Falada shifted beneath me and I tightened the reins, my sword finally coming free.
“What’s a Nameless?” I whispered to him.
The horse shivered beneath me. ‘I’m not familiar with the term, but Jian is right. Something comes. It doesn’t feel right, though. It has no soul. I can hear its screams at the edge of my hearing. If Jian can hear it and you can’t, it must be of Sal’hadar. The captain must have Old Blood in him too.’
“A Spirit-Beast?”
‘No. Something.’
I licked the ice from my lips and scanned the trees again. Silence coated the landscape and not even the caw of a bird could be heard. I fidgeted in the saddle and adjusted my grip on my sword. My gloves were thick, and I’d never fought while wearing them before. Nor had I ever fought from horseback. Suddenly all my sword practice felt like nothing more than a silly game. I was woefully unprepared.
“There,” said Jian, his voice clear and steady.
I followed his arm and saw a black hulking shape creeping down the side of the valley through the trees. It was utterly silent. Jian barked more orders, but I was too transfixed by the creature to follow them. It was as tall as Falada and twice as wide. It was so black I couldn’t make out a single feature, but it moved strangely, both elegant and erratic at once.
There was an ear-splitting crash, and the creature leapt towards us at a run, trees toppling and smashing in its path. It moved too fast for something that size and fear seized my heart. A multi-voiced scream echoed in my head, and I lifted my hands to my ears. It was a scream of terror and agony and madness.
“Concentrate, Princess,” said Hai Rong calmly. “Don’t fall for its tricks.”
I lowered my hands and took a deep breath before the creature slammed into the spears of the front row of soldiers. Wood shattered and horses screamed. This close I could see the creature most resembled a bear, its fur matted and spiked with blood. Two old arrows stuck out from its flank but didn’t seem to hinder it at all.
The men thrust spears towards its belly, and one was knocked from his horse by a blow from an enormous paw. A second row of soldiers charged between the gaps of the first line and shoved new spears and blades at the raging monster. The first line retreated behind them. The creature howled at the air and flailed around itself.
Jian had separated himself and circled the bear from behind. He slid from his horse and ran at its flank. His name caught in my throat as he ducked beneath its huge arm, and stuck his sword into the beast’s chest, right up to the hilt. That horrible scream echoed in my head again, almost drowned out by an audible bellow. The bear knocked Jian with a paw, and he f
lew back into the snow. The other men used the distraction to thrust more of their spears into the creature.
The bear didn’t retreat like any normal animal would, but its blows became weaker and it swayed on its feet. It let out one final, gurgling cry and collapsed onto the snow. The men surrounded it, swords and spears at the ready, as its eye rolled in its socket, watching them. Its chest heaved.
Jian stood up and spat blood into the snow. He seemed unhurt and waved the captain’s offered arm away as he staggered to the bear. He watched with his men in a silent vigil as the snow stained red, and the creature’s life faded away. The only thing I could hear was the pounding of my heart. My thoughts were erratic and startled.
The Prince mounted and shouted for us to ride. Everyone else seemed to know what to do. Injured horses were led on lead reins and two wounded men were lifted up to be held in front of riders. I followed, unable to think clearly or process what had just happened. Jian led us to a cave that was so shallow, it was more of a rocky alcove and ordered us to set up camp early. He doubled our usual guard but let us light two fires instead of one.
Six men and women were injured in varying degrees of severity, and I helped gather water and boil bandages, my feelings retreating to numbness.
I found Jian first. “Are you alright?”
He nodded. “I’m not injured.”
“But there was blood?”
“I bit my tongue when I fell. Those other men need your help, not me. Have you ever stitched a wound before?”
I felt the blood drain from my face and shook my head.
“We’re close enough to a village to just bandage the wounds for now, then. We’ll make it there tomorrow. They should have a healer.”
A sharp scream made me spin, and I saw one of the injured horses crumple to the ground. Its rider had just slit its throat. I gaped in horror at the flood of blood, and my breaths came in unsteady gulps. Jian touched my arm. “Elyanna? You want to help? Then focus.”
