by C. R. Grey
“Fine. I don’t care what you do. We’ll just go without you! Come on, Hal, Tori.” He moved to leave, but Hal grabbed his arm.
“She’s right. We can’t split off from the group. It’s too dangerous,” he said. Tori looked down at the ground and brought her hand up to the back of her neck, but she didn’t disagree with Hal like Bailey had expected her to.
“You guys too? You’re giving up on our king?”
“No!” Tori said, looking up. “But we know we have the sword, the army, and shelter. We should go back and strategize what to do next.”
“I already know what to do next!” Bailey said. He pointed with his sword to the east, where the tunnels ran. “I need to go find our king.”
He spun around to sprint toward the tunnels before the adults noticed he’d gone missing, but suddenly an overwhelming sensation came over him, and his bond. He nearly fell to the ground.
“Are you all right?” he heard Gwen say, but even her voice was phasing out. Almost immediately he couldn’t even hear his blood pounding behind his ears. His skin felt like it was on fire. Taleth nudged him with her flank, and her warmth was a comfort. Her whiskers twitched, alert.
“What’s happening?” Bailey whispered to her, as if she could answer in words. Her ears were up, alert. Bailey’s vision darted back and forth between what he could see in front of him—his hands, Taleth, the worried faces of his friends—and other trees and rocks, all switching back and forth too quickly, as though he was seeing through several different eyes all at once.
“Bailey, what’s going on?” asked Hal. He was aware that all his friends stood around him, concerned looks on their faces. But then Tori gasped and grabbed his arm, pointing beyond the trees toward the hillside just north of them.
At least a dozen white tigers stood there, staring down at him. Bailey dropped to his knees. Taleth nudged him again and then ran to her brethren. Another tiger, this one even larger and with green, wise eyes, paced forward to meet her. They rubbed their foreheads together, and the older tiger nipped at Taleth’s ear affectionately.
“Nature’s teeth,” said Digby.
“Where did they come from?” asked Annika.
“From the other side of the mountains,” came her answer, shouted down to them by Tremelo. Eneas Fourclaw stood by his side, and together they strode down the side of the hill, from the same direction as the tigers. Everyone rushed to greet them, shouting their surprise. Everyone, that was, except Bailey.
He could not take his eyes off of the white tigers, still standing in a streak on the hillside. Each pair of eyes on him was like a searchlight, blinding him. His breath came to him in large gasps. The tigers began to move down the hillside toward him, flanking Tremelo on either side. Bailey wiped his hand across his face—he hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d been crying.
“They’ve been waiting for you, boy,” said Tremelo, helping him to his feet. “Beyond the limits of Aldermere, they waited until the time was ripe.”
“I knew you wouldn’t abandon us,” said Bailey.
“A ragtag group like you lot,” he said looking around. “It’s the reason I want to rule.”
Bailey shook his head in amazement. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tigers. “Thank you for bringing them here.”
“They came here themselves,” he replied. “They came here for you.”
IT ACHED WHERE THE muscles of Phi’s wings met the back of her body. So many times she’d tried to fly away only to get yanked back down. A short leather strap tethered her to a bolt in the ground.
There were lots of other bolts. There had been lots of other falcons, too, but they were gone now. Phi had seen them change, lose their will in order to adopt another’s—the man in black. She’d seen her avian kin submit to his Dominance firsthand, and now he was working on her. It was terrifying, like speeding toward the drop of a cliff. Phi didn’t know if she could hold out much longer. She could only feel relief that Carin had escaped.
The man in black was already tall for a human, but he towered above Phi’s falcon form. He was her kin; she could tell by the immediate pull she felt toward his soul. He wanted to soar just like they all did. Phi felt it. But she could feel, too, how he was a predator—and how this desire to trap and kill was fueled by something other than survival. This man did not want to submit to natural cycles of life and death. All he wanted was to take for the sake of taking.
His arms swung in big arcs, and he paced back and forth. By the beads of sweat she judged his condition. Her human mind remembered so many of those old words: frustrated, tired, angry, scared.
These were dark feelings of his will, and Phi resisted. She wouldn’t give in to the fear. She thought of how she’d overcome everything terrifying in her life. In a flash, she remembered the contraption she’d made, giant wings that failed her in the thunderstorm—and how it was her friends, always, who came to find her. She knew she was loved, and that was enough to overcome the Dominance. For now.
How long had they been at this? She couldn’t think of time passing as she did in her human mind, only notice how the sun had nearly traveled across the entire sky. It was getting dark, and her vision was sharpening. The insects would come out soon, as would the mice, and perhaps she would feed if she could fly as she was meant to.
The human man shifted, and more humans came in through the entrance of the courtyard behind him. A woman was in front, the others streaming behind her as if she were leading an attack formation. Her shoes made sharp, clicking sounds on the pavement as she approached—and stood before Phi as if her violet eyes were searching Phi’s soul. She had eyes like a winter sunset. Purple? Phi strained to remember. It was another shade like purple, but more delicate. But her mind was fuzzy. Dominance filled up her presence so that Phi could barely feel her own will. She didn’t want to fly away. She was powerless.
Then Phi raised her right wing without wanting to, stretching it much too far so that it hurt. She screeched out in pain and felt her voice robbed of her as silence hushed the room. Phi couldn’t resist her. It was a woman of nightmares, a woman she remembered from her human form: Viviana.
Then something painful surged through Phi, a sensation so excruciating she feared her little heart would stop beating. Her soul was being strained out of her. Memories and emotions. Soon there’d be nothing left. Neither a human nor a bird.
“Sophia,” the woman spoke in a honeyed voice. “Your friends are raising an army against me, are they?”
BAILEY’S SLEEP HAD BEEN interrupted all night long by thoughts of his new kin keeping watch just outside his tent. He rose from his blankets, feeling the skin on his neck and arms tingling from the chilly, dense air. Outside the tent, rolling fog lit by the pink light of sunrise spread through the Allies’ camp, which was tucked into the trees overlooking the valley. Two tigers lifted their heads and regarded him. He had spent the night in what seemed like a never-ending dream, his mind flitting from one tiger’s consciousness to the next: he’d smelled the air and the dirt and the foreign sharpness of campfires just as they had; he’d felt their whiskers twitching at each nighttime noise as if their whiskers were his. He’d passed through their minds like a wanderer, always returning, in the end, to the mind of Taleth, like returning home at the end of a long journey.
Now he and Taleth walked together across the pine-needled ground to Tremelo’s tent. He was excited to show Tremelo the sword, which he’d clutched wordlessly the whole walk back after they’d been reunited. He was too happy and tongue-tied at the sight of more white tigers.
“I’m glad you’re back, sir,” Bailey said as he arrived at Tremelo’s tent. There, he sat talking with Eneas, Digby, and Annika. When his teacher looked up, his expression was wary, as if he’d forced himself to smile. He rose from his seat.
“I am too. But I’m afraid our celebration is short-lived.” There was a silence that followed, and Bailey looked behind him. The embers of Tremelo’s campfire still glowed—he’d been awake a
ll night long.
“Reconnaissance has announced that Viviana’s army is on the move toward the school. I’ve consulted with the team,” he said, motioning to Annika, Digby, and Eneas. “We agree it’s best to march to the Seers’ Valley and cut her off from the Peaks.”
“Destroy her mines, too!” Digby added. “The Clarke fella told us the location.”
“The location of what?” Gwen asked, holding up a flap of the tent in the threshold. She had a crease in her forehead and wore something like a frown, despite all of them being reunited again.
“Hello, Gwen,” Tremelo said. It occurred to Bailey that they hadn’t spoken last night when the two camps came together.
“Hello,” Gwen said stiffly.
“Is this the headquarters of this operation?” Herman said, poking his head in over Gwen’s. He must’ve followed Bailey there.
“Dad, this is Tremelo—Tremelo, this is my dad,” Bailey said. “They’ve made the decision to march.”
Gwen moved out of the way to let Herman pass, though she didn’t dare enter herself. The two men met in the middle of the tent and shook hands, nodding solemnly. “I’d be honored to march with the True King,” Herman said.
“And I’d be honored by your service,” Tremelo responded. “Shall we march?”
After a tearful good-bye with his mother, Bailey marched alongside his friends and his father toward the Velyn Peaks. Nearly half the camp had stayed at Fairmount under the watchful eye of Mrs. Copse. The warriors had allowed several students, including most of the Scavage team, to march and help carry supplies. They’d been on the trail for hours, a collective determination driving them forward up the mountain. Very little was said, and occasionally Bailey’s dad would lift him up into a hug—which half embarrassed Bailey and half pleased him. It was good to combine the world of family and friends, even if Gwen was acting a bit strange. He guessed she was still angry over their disagreement the night before. But if he was being honest, he was a little bit angry too. There was a part of him that was glad Tremelo had proved them all wrong by coming back. The marchers stopped in a clearing near a valley and set up camp for the night. Bailey had put his pack down, and headed over to find his dad.
“Look!” Gwen said, grabbing his arm as he passed her. She was pointing up at the sky. Annika, Eneas, and Digby were nearby and listened in.
“Something’s coming,” she said. “Can you hear that?”
Bailey listened: he heard screeching in the near distance, from the direction of the valley below them. A huge flock of what sounded like birds was headed their way.
“The trees are too thick here to see them before they’re directly over us,” said Eneas. “I’ll send a lookout down the hill.”
“Look!” said Gwen, pointing up. One lone bird swooped into view, ahead of the screeching that was steadily growing louder. Bailey’s breath caught in his chest as he recognized the familiar brown speckled feathers.
“It’s Carin,” said Gwen.
“Phi must be with her!” said Bailey. “That’s my friend’s kin familiar,” he told his father. He looked up into the sky, waiting to see Phi in her new form.
Carin flapped over the camp, zigzagging between branches. She screeched.
“No—something’s wrong,” said Gwen.
From the trees behind Carin came the sound of hundreds of wings rushing toward the campsite. Bailey stared, openmouthed, as birds of every species poured across the sky and then circled overhead. Tori and Hal ran over from their tent.
“What are they doing?” asked Tori, staring up at the birds. “Are they here to help us?”
Carin landed next to them on a low branch. She squawked, shaking her feathers.
“No,” said Gwen, looking from Carin to the sky. “I don’t think so.”
With a chaotic cry, the birds hastened their pace, as though something was chasing them. Gwen gasped and pointed upward. A shadow began to fall over the clearing as Viviana’s giant Clamoribus, the one she’d used to fly away from the Progress Fair, glided into view above the treetops. Surrounding it were smaller Clamoribi, their metal wings moving in perfect synchronization.
Each of the individual Clamoribi opened their beaks, and Viviana’s voice echoed out.
“Fighters of the so-called ‘True King,’ I address you now,” her voice, multiplied through many mouths, began. “Your cause is nothing. Your ‘king’? An insane traitor, begging for attention like a dog. You have no weapons that can stand against those of the Dominae. If you surrender now, I will be merciful. If you stand with your quivering insect of a king, you will be crushed.”
The live birds began to circle over the trees. Their wings started beating the air in perfect precision, just like the Clamoribi.
“She’s controlling them!” said Hal.
On the ground, several dogs traveling with the RATS began to howl and pace, and a number of rodents scattered from the campsites and into the underbrush. Next to Bailey, Taleth twitched her whiskers, growling. Every man and woman in the camp looked upward as the giant Clamoribus and its entourage passed over them.
The sound of shouting caused Bailey to turn his gaze back to the trees—several Velyn ran up the hill from the ravine, holding their weapons closely.
“Soldiers!” one shouted, a strong-shouldered man with a dark-brown beard. He held an axe. “Hundreds of them in formation in the valley!”
“No,” gasped Gwen. “No, it’s too soon—we’re not ready!”
“We’ll have to figure it out on the fly, then….” Tremelo said. “Annika, what’s the position of the archers? And Digby, Eneas, what’s the report on the ground?”
“I have enough archers to join with the Velyn’s along the cliff’s edge overlooking the valley,” she said. “And we have some cannon fire left as well. We’ll position the ship at the edge of the ravine, below the archers.”
“The Velyn are prepared,” Eneas said.
“And the RATS are at the ready, the scrappy bunch,” Digby added.
“But the animals…” Tremelo trailed off. “Have they been commanded to stay back? The Halcyon pieces were abandoned in the tunnels; we have no way of protecting our animals against Dominance.”
Bailey sensed the tigers gathered just beyond the trees, their whiskers twitching. They bared their teeth as the Clamoribi floated away, back to the valley. Their hackles were raised, and several of them were confused by urges not their own.
“We can’t let the animals fight,” Bailey said. “Not until we know they’ll be safe.”
“You won’t be fighting, either,” said Herman, pointing to Bailey. “You’re staying here while we forge ahead.”
“Wait, what do you mean I can’t fight?” called Bailey.
He looked back to Tremelo, who shared a look with Herman. “Your father is right. We need you alive,” he said. “Who would follow the king who let a child—the Child of War, no less—die in battle? And that’s exactly what would happen, if you go out there with us.”
Bailey’s hand curled into a fist around the hilt of the sword. His dad took a knee in front of him. “Your mom and I—we can’t lose you, Bailey.”
“You won’t!” Bailey argued. “Let me come with you. I can help!” He raised his sword as if it were evidence.
“I’ll fight for the both of us. I love you,” his dad said as he pulled Bailey into a hug. He hugged his dad back, even if his own anger hadn’t totally melted away. “Stay off the battlefield and out of sight.”
“Fine,” he said stiffly while his dad still hugged him. “And I love you too,” he added in a mumble. His dad pulled away and mussed his sandy-colored hair before joining Tremelo, who’d turned toward the warriors.
“You still have the amulets?” Tremelo asked. When Bailey nodded he looked relieved. “Nature willing they add some protection. Stay safe, you lot!” He started to turn, but Bailey stopped him.
“Wait!” he called out, looking down at the sword in his hand.
Gwen gasped. “What are you do
ing?”
But Bailey ignored her. “Since I’m not going to be on the front lines, you should take this,” he said as he lifted the handle toward Tremelo. “It belonged to your father, and it’s powerful. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like it sings. Can you feel it?”
“Where did you—”
“Let’s move,” Eneas called from the distance.
Tremelo nodded at the Velyn warrior as he took the sword from Bailey. A sense of recognition passed over his eyes. “We’ll save the story for after the battle. But it’s true—I can feel it. Thank you, Bailey.”
“Good luck, my king,” Bailey said back.
“Let’s find Shonfield, then,” said Hal once the warriors had left them.
Bailey didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back toward his tent. The others followed.
“Oh Nature, Bailey!” said Gwen. “What did you do that for?”
“Do what?” Bailey asked. He felt confused and frustrated. “Why did I give our king a prophesized sword? So he could defeat Dominance!”
“But—”
“But what?” he asked, cutting her off. “You’ve been acting weird about Tremelo this whole time, and I don’t know why.”
“It’s because of my visions. I…” She trailed off, her forehead wrinkled like she was searching for the right words. “I just need you to be careful.”
Bailey’s heart dropped down into the pit of his stomach. She hadn’t been a Seer for very long, and he’d only just found out she was having visions. “Tremelo was in it?” he asked.
“Bailey, come quick!” Hal called from the trees below. He and Tori were hidden in the trees, perched to watch the battle from afar.
“You have to keep your distance from him,” she whispered fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders. She was a few inches taller, and he had to look up into her wide eyes. “Just until the battle is over.”
“What did you see?” Bailey asked, his voice shaking.
“BAILEY! GWEN!” Tori yelled from below. “Get down here, already! It’s Phi.”
