Riders of the Realm #2

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  He blinked, remembering the pain when his body had slammed into her spine. “I still can’t believe she caught me,” he said. “I guess it’s because she needs me now.”

  “Ah, Rahkki, it’s more than that. Sula likes you.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe, but she also needs me. She and Firo showed us the captured wild herd on purpose, so we’d save them.”

  I’Lenna grinned. “I know, and we will. They’re too valuable to abandon.”

  “You mean too sacred.”

  I’Lenna shook her long, sun-streaked hair. “No, I mean valuable. My mom is already talking about selling them.”

  “Sell them! Why not set them free?”

  I’Lenna swatted at the fruit flies swarming the table. “If I were the queen, I’d set them free.” Then she snapped her eyes toward his. “Not that I want to be queen. I don’t.”

  Rahkki grabbed a chair beside her, and without either of them wishing it, their awful past reared between them as it sometimes did, and tension stiffened their bodies. But as quickly as it arrived, the tension passed and morphed into a staring contest. I’Lenna’s lips twitched into a smile and Rahkki tried not to laugh. When she made her eyes cross toward her nose, he finally blinked. “I win,” she gloated.

  “So how did you get in here?” Rahkki asked. “Did you use the fireplace?” He rose and examined the stonework, the back wall, and the mantel. “I still can’t find an opening!”

  “Well, it’s there,” she replied, “and I can’t exactly go through your front door now, can I? How else am I supposed to visit?” Under her breath she added, “My mother would kill me if she knew I was here.”

  “Then why come at all?” Rahkki asked. I’Lenna’s mother didn’t trust Rahkki and Brauk, the children of her slain predecessor, and Harak Nightseer had warned Rahkki to stay away from the princess.

  “Oh.” I’Lenna blushed and stood up. “You want me to leave?”

  “Sun and stars, no!” Rahkki grabbed her hand, and just as quickly let it go. “You’re like . . . my only friend.”

  I’Lenna wiggled contentedly back into her chair. “You’re my only friend too. You and Firo.” Her eyes grew dreamy at the mention of her new pet.

  Rahkki glanced at his fireplace. “Will you show me the tunnels?” he blurted.

  I’Lenna narrowed her eyes. “Is this about your mother? Do you still think she escaped from my mother through a fireplace?”

  “Yeah, but you don’t have to help me search, just let me in there. Please.” Although Rahkki’s mind had blocked out most of that awful night when his mother died, a memory had recently surfaced. After he and his brother had escaped Lilliam aboard Drael, their mother’s winged stallion, Rahkki remembered watching Reyella Stormrunner vanish into a fireplace. Brauk hadn’t seen it, and, eight years later, he still didn’t believe it, but Rahkki hoped his mother was alive.

  I’Lenna considered Rahkki for a long while. “You know I shouldn’t help you, not while my mother is queen.”

  “I know,” he said. “I—I just have to look for myself, to know I’m not crazy. Please, I’Lenna, do it for me.”

  They locked eyes. Rahkki knew he shouldn’t pressure I’Lenna, but he couldn’t stop himself. Finally, she caved, shrugging one shoulder. “All right, I guess it can’t hurt to look, but I don’t know what you expect to find. The lower tunnels flood each monsoon season. Any evidence of your mom’s escape will have been washed away by now. I’ve used the tunnels for years and haven’t found any sign of your mom.” I’Lenna stood. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Rahkki’s heart thudded. “Right now? Really?”

  She smirked. “Does a Borla heal people?”

  “Not our Borla.”

  “Does a dragon drool?”

  “Not a dead dragon.”

  “Rahkki!”

  He leaped up and hugged her. “Thank you.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You need a bath.”

  He leaned back, elated. Perhaps he would finally learn something about his mother’s disappearance. “Let me grab Brauk’s things first.” Rahkki rustled through Brauk’s dresser, choosing a fresh tunic and trousers, undergarments, and Brauk’s favorite nightdress, and then he packed them into his satchel.

  “Close your eyes,” I’Lenna said when he was finished. He did, and heard a soft click, a whoosh of air, and then silence. “You can open them now.”

  The back wall of his fireplace had hinged open, and Rahkki’s heart clenched. He wasn’t crazy. It was possible his mother had disappeared into a fireplace. Maybe now his brother and uncle would believe him.

  5

  The Tunnels

  RAHKKI PEERED THROUGH THE SECRET FIREPLACE door. Beyond it, he spied a dark passageway that angled downward and smelled of mold.

  “It’s slippery,” I’Lenna warned. “The rainwater leeches through the stone and makes everything wet.”

  She tugged on Rahkki’s hand, pulling him into the tunnels. If she noticed that his palms were damp with sweat, she didn’t care, and happiness filled Rahkki’s body. Every moment he spent with I’Lenna was fun.

  She pushed the fireplace door closed behind them, leaving them in darkness. “You have to feel your way since I didn’t bring a candle or a lamp,” she instructed. “Follow my voice and walk slowly. If we keep heading downward, we’ll eventually reach an exit. There are three, and each ends in a drainage grate that leads out to the jungle.”

  “How many tunnels are there?”

  “You can’t count them,” she said. “It’s a maze. Easy to get lost.”

  “So can we travel anywhere in the fortress?”

  “Almost,” she replied. “Not every fireplace has a false door, so not every room is accessible.”

  “How did you find out about these tunnels? Why are they here?”

  She paused, and Rahkki sensed reluctance, but then she answered. “In the case of a siege, the Fifth Clan queens use them to escape, that’s why they’re kept secret. I’m sure your mother knew about them, but since my mother was born to the Second Clan, she does not.”

  “But you know?”

  “Yes, I learned about the tunnels while visiting a Sandwen museum in Daakur. My mother left me to explore and I discovered the plans to our fortress in the archives. The Daakurans built it, you know. So I studied them.”

  Rahkki nodded. He knew that his clan had hired the foreign builders to engineer a giant-proof fortress, but right now he felt a mixture of awe and envy. Before his mother died, he’d also enjoyed trips to the empire, which was full of shops, goods from all over the world, magickers who sold spells and charms, book lenders, schools, zoos, and museums.

  It was also highly populated and a place where Sandwens went to hide. “I wonder if my mother is in the empire?”

  I’Lenna’s shoulders tensed, and Rahkki backtracked. If he found Reyella alive, then Lilliam Whitehall would be declared a false queen. I’Lenna’s family would be banished or outright killed. The fact she was helping him at all was a gift. “I’m sorry. I’m just curious.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity?”

  He sensed the smile behind her voice. “They say it calls the kajies,” he answered. Kaji spirits harassed the seven clans, causing people to trip and slip and blunder where they were otherwise sure-footed and agile. Kajies came in flurries when Sandwens were either up to no good, full of pride, or curious about things that had nothing to do with them.

  “Yep,” I’Lenna said. “And we don’t want kajies loose inside this dark, slippery tunnel. Do we?”

  “Of course not.”

  They continued walking in silence. When they reached the lower tunnels, light began to pour in from the drainage grates, and they explored all three exits. I’Lenna was right—if his mother had left behind any evidence of her escape, the monsoon rains had long ago washed it away. He spied jungle rats, crumbling stone, rancid puddles, and bats. “There’s nothing here,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I’Lenna answered, adding a sympathetic hu
g.

  Then Rahkki spotted a table and chairs hidden in the shadows. Parchments sat atop it and discarded fruit rinds surrounded it. “What’s that?” he asked I’Lenna. “Do you eat down here?”

  The princess scoffed and pulled him away from the table. “Why would I? Come on, let’s go.”

  “But—”

  “It’s getting dark,” she said.

  By the graying light outside, Rahkki realized that the sun was going down and he’d better get to his uncle’s farm before the dragons started hunting. Also, his belly was grumbling. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “I need to get to my uncle’s.”

  “Yes, I have to go too. You can leave through the storm drain.” Masking her movements from him, I’Lenna unlocked the metal grate that led out into the jungle.

  “Thanks for the tour,” he said.

  I’Lenna chewed her lip. “Rahkki, I don’t think you’re asking the right question about your mother.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She either escaped or she didn’t, what’s done is done. But if she’s alive, the real question is, why hasn’t she come back?”

  I’Lenna’s words struck Rahkki like a hard slap, and her dark eyes rounded in apology. He caught his breath, slowly nodding. “Right, that makes sense.” There was only one reason why Reyella wouldn’t return—his mother was dead—and I’Lenna’s words shone upon that sour truth like a lamp.

  But then he shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to give up. Reyella had escaped and gone somewhere, and he wanted to know where and why.

  “Good luck at the Pairing tomorrow,” I’Lenna said, and then she vanished into the bowels of the fortress.

  Feeling exhausted, Rahkki began the long trek to his uncle’s farm. Tomorrow he would become a Rider, and soon he’d help his mare rescue her friends. Sula would leave him when it was done, he knew that, but he no longer desired to own her. That had been the dream of a child. His new dream was to help her, and Sula wanted to live free.

  6

  The Pairing

  AT DAWN THE NEXT DAY, THE SUN PEEKED OVER the eight-towered octagon that was Fort Prowl, and the morning bells rang across the Sandwen settlement. Rahkki approached the fallows, his heart racing. Uncle Darthan strode beside him, a sure hand on his nephew’s shoulder. Rahkki had attended a dozen Pairing ceremonies, but never in a thousand seasons could he have guessed he’d be an Initiate.

  Last night, he and Darthan had spent a long, quiet evening together, preparing for today. They’d gathered six buckets of water from the River Tsallan that bordered his uncle’s rice farm. After boiling it, Rahkki scrubbed his body, trimmed his hair with a knife, and cleaned out his fingernails. The scent of soap and perfumed oil lingered around him now, as foreign as it was pungent. Sula would hate the smell, he knew.

  “Your mother would be proud of you,” Darthan said.

  Rahkki glanced up at his uncle’s sun-crinkled face. “She never cared if I was a Rider or not. She wanted me to find my own path.”

  Uncle smiled. “That’s true, but not what I meant. She’d be proud of you for saving that wild mare’s life.” He lowered his voice. “I know you don’t like to fly, Rahkki, but you rode Sula anyway. If you hadn’t, Queen Lilliam would have fed her to the dragon. It was the bravest—” Darthan’s voice cracked, and his eyes glistened. “It was the bravest thing you ever did.”

  “But I was scared.”

  Darthan squeezed Rahkki’s shoulder. “Bravery is about taking action in spite of fear, not in absence of it. You are your mother’s boy.”

  Rahkki had informed Darthan about the tunnels and explained his theory about his mother, but Darthan had agreed with I’Lenna. The question wasn’t where Reyella had gone, but why she hadn’t returned. His uncle had said: Queen Reyella Stormrunner was known as the Pantheress for a reason. If she were alive, nothing—no usurping queen, no jungle, no giant, no injury, no magic, not anything—could keep her away from her sons.

  In spite of his assessment, Darthan had agreed to help Rahkki search. “If she died in Daakur, I’ll find out when and where,” he’d said. “I’ll bring her home.” Darthan was referring to Reyella’s bones, and Rahkki had shuddered that thought away. They’d agreed that Uncle would begin his search by riding the ferry across Cinder Bay and speaking to the workers on the docks. If an injured and pregnant Sandwen queen had dropped anchor there eight years ago, someone would remember. The trip would only take a day or two, and Darthan would be back in plenty of time for his upcoming harvest. He planned to leave as soon as his responsibilities to the rice farm allowed.

  “We’re here,” said Uncle. They’d reached the fallows where hundreds of Sandwen clansfolk sprawled across the dormant farmland. Some were engaged in tests of strength on the grass; others rested in the shade or ate with their families. Kids roasted tarantulas and salted slugs over open fires, elders wove blankets, and grooms sold Kihlari charms to kids who would never earn enough coin to Pair with a Flier themselves.

  Rahkki spotted the Initiates from the other clans waiting in the sun. He hugged his uncle and then joined them; but they edged away as he approached. Rahkki could guess why. He’d won his Intended Flier in a contest, while they’d each had to pay a small fortune for theirs.

  An Initiate from the Fourth Clan rolled her eyes over Rahkki’s ill-fitting attire and knife-shorn hair. “Have you or your mare had any training?” she asked.

  “We’ve had enough,” Rahkki lied.

  The other Initiates giggled. They each wore expensive, custom-fitted clothing purchased in Daakur. With his handed-down clothes, his patchwork satchel, and his wild mare, Rahkki clearly didn’t fit in.

  “My stallion would never kick anyone,” the girl added, referring to Sula’s infamous attack on Brauk. She turned her shoulder, shutting off further conversation.

  Rahkki exhaled, wishing his brother were here now and fiddling with the ceremonial garb he’d borrowed from Tuni: a bleached leather tunic and trousers that fit him like a small tent. She’d replaced his tattered footwear with clean, unmarred boots that she never wore because they hurt her feet. Sula’s vibrant purple feathers dangled from each of his wrists.

  The morning mist had vanished, leaving Rahkki and the other Initiates unsheltered from the sun. Sweat trailed down his forehead and into his golden eyes. Finally, a hush fell over the fallows as the Intended Kihlari appeared. Rahkki danced on his toes, hunting for Sula. When he spotted her, he caught his breath.

  Flanked by six well-fed and pampered steeds, his wild mare stood out like a beam of moonlight. She high-stepped through the grass, swishing her glossy white tail, and her silver hide rippled over muscles that were hardened from living wild. Her glittering eyes swept the fallows, and her curved ears flicked round, not at bugs, but to catch every possible noise. She wasn’t frightened—she was aware. The tame Kihlari plodded like water buffalo in comparison.

  Rahkki’s heart swelled with pride. “Sula,” he whispered.

  The Fourth Clan Initiate could not hide her surprise. “That’s your Flier? Land to skies, I bet she’s quick in the air.”

  Rahkki burst with pride and fear, remembering just how quick she was.

  The procession halted in the center of the unplanted field. The hush lifted, and the clansfolk broke into loud whispers.

  Is that the mare that kicked Brauk Stormrunner?

  Yeah, his little brother won her at the auction. Got lucky.

  If you call winning that man-killer lucky.

  Across the field, Rahkki spied Queen Lilliam and her three daughters relaxing in their huge red shade tent. I’Lenna’s sisters sat astride Firo’s back, pretending they were flying while I’Lenna fed the roan mare treats. Blue wildflowers had been braided into Firo’s lush black mane. Around the girls’ mother, servants buzzed, refilling jugs, massaging bug-repelling oil into her skin, and fanning her with palm fronds. Familiar rage and grief rose within Rahkki at the sight of the queen.

  Adjacent to Lilliam’s tent were the shade structures of t
he other Sandwen clan queens. Each monarch reclined on a soft pallet to observe the ceremony. Off to the side of the field, a group of men tended a collection of hot coals. The First, Sixth, and Seventh Clans were absent. They’d been unable to travel safely to the Clan Gathering due to the raiding Gorlan hordes.

  Suddenly, a buffalo horn rang out and brought Rahkki’s attention back to the ceremony. The Fifth Clan Borla stepped out of his tent, and the spectators settled, waiting for the Pairing to begin.

  “Initiates, you may approach your Intended,” the Borla announced. Rahkki’s group strode across the grass, their eyes pinned to their mounts.

  When Echofrost spied Rahkki approaching, she relaxed and folded her shimmering wings. He accepted her lead rope from Tuni, and the Headwind left the field.

  “Hey,” Rahkki greeted softly.

  Echofrost huffed, still annoyed by the earlier ministrations of the grooms. They’d oiled her feathers, glossed her hide, and polished her hooves, completely washing away her natural scent. She dipped her muzzle toward Rahkki, noticing he smelled no better. Soap and Landwalker perfume had spoiled his familiar essence.

  The Kihlari hadn’t told Echofrost what to expect today, so she’d nervously waited. Her entire plan hinged on Pairing with Rahkki and infiltrating the Sky Guard, but her inability to communicate with the cub complicated everything. If the army didn’t fly east soon, she—she would what? Leave the Sandwens and live by herself? Echofrost had no herd to return to. She tossed her mane—no! The clan loved all Kihlari—they would save Storm Herd and Bumblewind’s unborn foal from the giants! She had to remain committed to the plan, however inconvenient.

  The Fifth Clan Borla resumed speaking. Echofrost watched Rahkki’s heart thump faster, and her own nerves twitched beneath her hide.

  “Welcome to the Ceremony of Pairs,” the Borla shouted, and the crowd cheered. “Today you appear before your queens, seeking the highest honor in the Sandwen Realm: the position of Sky Guard Rider.” He paused as the crowd murmured. Echofrost swiveled her ears, trying to understand.