by Dan Allen
She could tell them all who she was. Would they believe her?
It was only after a half mile of walking that she remembered Verick. She hadn’t even thought to mention him to Trinah—the one person who could have helped her. She winced, realizing she was still on her own.
Everhart emerged from the cover of a bush, head high and ears up as if looking for the source of her fear.
“Everhart,” Reann said in as strong a voice as she could muster. “I’m going to be all right.” Tears tried to squeeze into her eyes again. “I’m the daughter of Toran. I can take care of myself. This is my kingdom. This is my kingdom.”
Chapter 18
Montazi Realm.
With Pert’s dragon descending like a falling hammer, Akara thrashed forward, twitching her head from side to side, trying to keep the velra out of her blind spot as both fought the headwind.
For Terith, the end of the race was no longer the finish, but the instant Akara fell in range of Pert’s dragon fire.
He looked over his bleeding shoulder. With both height and weight advantage, the velra was gaining fast. The dragons would collide in seconds. He faced the morbid realization that a collision with the larger dragon would be a death sentence.
Terith could not afford the luxury of an early death. The fate of his realm depended not just on surviving, but winning the challenge. He couldn’t win or escape unless he could somehow slow Pert down.
A fierce crosswind caught Akara’s stretched wings and Akara was forced upward, closer to Pert—the one direction Terith couldn’t afford to go.
Terith instinctively gave the reins a hard pull to the side and Akara rolled upside down, leaving both Terith and Akara with their backs to the ground. At least he had Akara between him and the velra’s fire.
Falling quickly, in moments, he would be forced to turn over to stay out of the deep and Pert would have him.
That’s it!
In a moment of crazed desperation, Terith seized on the first idea that entered his head.
He let go.
Mid-roll, he spun out of the harness and hurtled into the fog.
Akara, sensing Terith’s fall, folded her wings instantly, dropping just out of reach of the velra’s stretched claws. Together, rider and dragon plummeted backward into the rank air of the canyon abyss.
In four and a half seconds of free fall, the furious clouds overhead had become just a narrow gray stripe between the blurred deep-green rock walls, until all was hidden by the gray gloom of the deep.
Terith had fallen into the deep, just as Lilleth foresaw.
Immersed in the fog, Terith whistled. Akara instantly pulled up, colliding with her back against his. Terith frantically reached the harness strap as Akara spread her wings to brake.
The sheer force of the pull-up maneuver was more than Terith’s tentative grip could handle. His arm bent back and wrenched his fingers loose from the harness strap. Terith twisted backward off Akara and saw only gray fog for a desperate instant. Adrenaline rushed though him as he fell face first toward a rocky crag jutting out of the deep.
Akara’s hind claws snatched Terith’s thigh, her skill making the rescue as easy as catching falling ivy fruit. Her sure grip punctured the leathers covering his leg and carved long gashes into his thigh. It felt as though his leg had been doused in flame. The two plummeted together as Akara fought to slow their fall.
Terith’s flung-out fingertips came up dripping with slime from the bog as Akara bottomed out, barely a body-length above the bubbling hell-swamp of the deep. Terith got one hand on the harness and swung back up into the saddle, lungs choking with fumes.
After one luxurious second of relief, the shock faded into an eruption of complaints from his limbs. There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, from his twisted arm to the slashed skin on his shoulder from Pert’s arrow and the torn flesh of his thigh that burned like a firebrand. But he was alive.
Terith slapped Akara encouragingly on her back. “Come on. We’re not out yet. Go!”
He glanced up, unable to see the megalith tops through the dense fog.
If that didn’t look like a realistic crash, nothing will.
Would it be enough to convince Pert that he was the only contender left?
Enlivened by the falling game and her masterful catch, Akara surged forward. With natural reflexes faster than a human, she led the insane charge through the underworld.
Jagged moss-covered rocks jumped out at Terith through the fog as Akara carved an upward arc along the canyon bottom. It was a winding path, but free of the tortuous headwind that Pert faced atop the megaliths.
The huge white swamp flies buzzed around Akara but couldn’t latch on to her slick wings, damp from the plunge through the dense fog.
“Whoa!” Terith ducked an overhanging rock ledge as Akara cut under it in a short turn.
The canyons ran mostly east and west, in the direction of the capital, but the routes twisted and split, sometimes recombining on the other side of a megalith, sometimes leading farther away. Terith navigated solely from memory in a world he had never seen, except from the top. A wrong turn would cost him a second, minutes, or his life.
Rain fell in intermittent torrents, clues to the gale force winds shifting angrily overhead.
Hours passed in the deep. Terith began to feel that if he wasn’t the first to arrive, he might not finish in time. The deadline for completing the challenge approached, but Terith had no way of gauging the exact hour.
The final turn, the decisive moment.
“This should be it.” Terith banked right and pulled up on the reins. If he had missed turns, he would be miles from his goal.
Akara beat her tired wings in a broken, frantic rhythm, climbing out of the fog for the first time since the false crash.
“There’s a bridge. That’s it!”
The high bridge of Hintat, the second waypoint of the race, was just ahead, and beyond it, Ferrin-tat . . . and Lilleth.
Akara, fatigued to the point of delirium, didn’t seem to have the strength to get their combined weight up out of the canyon. Her heavy breath wheezed with desperation, and Terith realized that if Akara had to carry his weight to the top of the cliffs, her heart might simply explode.
But he had help Pert couldn’t match—friends like Werm and Tanna.
He drew out Werm’s last grappling hook rocket, clipped the harpoon line to his new chest harness and drip-ignited the fuse with dragon fire. He squinted his eyes as the burning fuse vanished into the cylinder, and a spout of flame erupted from the great firework, rocketing the harpoon upward.
Terith looped the cord through Akara’s harness as the rocket flamed out and the grappling hook snagged in the ropes of the bridge and snapped taut.
The sudden force pulled the rope through the knot in the harness and tore at Terith’s chest harness, pinning him to the dragon. Snagged by the grappling line, Akara whiplashed upward, momentum transitioning to altitude. At the peak of the slingshot maneuver, Terith slashed the rope and the pair shot into the air. They were in the open again. Terith looked back, smiling at the trick that had saved him minutes of circling to gain height.
No longer sheltered by the canyon, Terith again faced the full gale of the monsoon wind. The race was now an all-out battle against the storm.
In minutes that passed like moments, the megalith of Ferrin-tat and the finish grew near. Below, people waved and cheers came broken on the wind, giving no indication of whether Pert was ahead or behind.
Slipping the headwind, Akara dove into the trees. She whipped left and right around tree trunks, avoiding the wind in a feat of agility only a fruit dragon could manage.
Ferrin’s enclave passed in a blur.
“Almost there.”
Akara shot over the landing field and barrel-rolled in a gut-wrenching spin. Terith dismount
ed in midair and rolled to his feet on the soaking turf. He raced for the keep where collected rain spouted through the overhanging rocks like blood dripping from jaws.
If Pert had already returned, his dragon might be waiting behind the watery veil.
Terith sprinted ahead, splashing through mud heedlessly as the strongmen and keepers coaxed Akara toward her cage with offerings of food.
Whether the spectators were cheering or jeering him, Terith couldn’t tell.
A sturdy figure emerged from under the cascading water. For a moment Terith thought it was Pert. But then he glimpsed the slight limp that belonged to Ferrin.
“Where is Pert?” Terith called. His legs barely held him as a wave of dizziness passed over him.
“It’s almost noon,” Ferrin replied, sounding frantic. “But you’re the first back. Do you have the token? Guardians be praised—how did you get here in this weather?”
Terith fumbled to remove the gold coin from a buttoned pocket. “Here it is.”
“Give it to me—hurry.”
Rather than turn in the token and claim victory, Terith clenched the coin in his fist. “You’re sure I am the first?” Terith asked, heart pounding.
“Yes,” Ferrin shouted. “For the love of everything sacred, give it to me! There are only a few minutes left. You’ll have first choice of mate.”
Terith looked at the cavern and then turned away and drew both his long knives to cries of panic from the crowd.
“He’s going to kill the others!”
Ignoring the commotion, Terith spread his feet and raised the weapons defensively, pivoting continuously as he scanned the sky.
He steadied his breath and cleared his mind, preparing to draw the awakening one last time.
Terith’s oath closed around him, pulling at his heartstrings, where his spirit was wide open to the awakening.
“Two minutes. Terith! Listen to me. Nobody else will make it.”
“I made a blood oath!” Terith cried.
Ferrin choked on rain and wind. “What oath?”
Ferrin stepped closer to Terith and reached out his hand, as if to touch his shoulder, but didn’t.
“Remo and Tamm helped me pass Pert,” Terith said, “so long as I would stop him.”
“Did you stop him?” Ferrin looked into his eyes with wild hope.
“I burned his face half to ashes in the tunnel. Then he showed up half a day later on my tail without a scar. He has the dark—”
“Do not speak of it,” Ferrin spoke quickly. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. “I should have seen this coming. I should have stopped him sooner.” Ferrin’s face fell, lost in a wash of regret. “It was all for the competition, I thought. One rider’s drive would lift the others, but he has gone too far and I cannot stop him. My reign is . . .” Ferrin didn’t finish the sentence. He looked up at Terith. “What now?”
“If Pert comes and I cannot stop him, I have to let Remo and Tamm finish ahead of me.”
“A withered fool’s oath, that was.”
“A flight vee was the only way we could catch up to him. We had to work together. They did their part. Now I’ll do mine.”
Ferrin took a step backward toward the cavern. “One minute left. Terith, if you don’t give me your token in time, you’ll lose as well. I’ll have no redemption for all that has happened.”
Terith counted seconds under his breath. He tore back his hood and searched the sky. Was it there? A lone dragon?
The paper-thin trace of light around Terith brightened into a visible corona. He put his arms together, blades forward, tracking the flighty image.
Flapping wing, or ivy leaf on the wind?
“Ten grains left!” Ferrin called eyeing his hourglass. “Pert is too late. Five, four . . .”
Terith tossed the coin to Ferrin and leapt through the veil of water eclipsing the cave entrance.
Inside, the eligible women gathered in huddles. Previously pearl white dresses were drenched with water and marred by mud. Several screamed when he came in with his knives still drawn.
He hastily tucked them away.
“You made it!” Enala shouted. “Look at the hourglass—Guardians’ Gate, he made it by a few grains!”
A brilliant, soaring feeling rushed through his body and seemed to lift him off the ground. It filled him from the inside until Terith thought he might burst.
“Look at him,” one of the eligible gasped. “Did you ever see anything like that?”
Terith looked down at his body bathed in a brilliant white glow. It wasn’t just the faint shadow of his waning awakening. This light permeated his entire being, throwing back long shadows in the cavern.
He’d been chosen. The right of rule had passed to him.
He felt it deep inside.
From outside the cave, the crowd roared with a mix of surprise and excitement at the blaze of light shining from the cavern.
“I knew it,” Lilleth said proudly, smiling at Terith. “You’re the new chief.”
“Yeah, well you already saw it, didn’t you?” Enala said with a laugh. She squeezed her sister in an elated hug before pinching her on the arm with a bit of latent spite. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
Lilleth embraced her sister. “Me too. I’ll never come to another challenge as long as I live.”
Enala drew back with an expression of thoughtful concern. “That depends on who gets chosen, doesn’t it?”
There was only one champion to arrive in time.
“Oh no,” the girls said in unison, both clasping their hands to the sides of their heads in shock.
Several other eligible girls joined in a new round of sobs.
This is my kingdom, Terith thought. A thrill of realization rippled through him. He had passed out of the world he knew into an entirely new one where all he saw was his to command, his to protect.
The excited chatter of the eligible echoed in Terith’s mind from far away. He had hardly considered what might happen if Ferrin’s charge fell to him.
The concentrated rush of awakening waned, but the feeling in Terith’s heart did not as the burden of protecting the realm settled on him.
Terith unleashed a champion’s smile as the mass of even more anxious eligible women came into focus in front of him.
Only two mattered.
Another of the eligible girls approached him. She had a narrow-
faced, picked-upon look and a slight build.
“Thank you, Terith,” she said. She suddenly leapt at him and wrapped her arms around his neck desperately. “Thank you.”
“I . . . I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Terith said. “Who are you?”
“Onneth, of Cafertat. You saved my brother Gomder yesterday.”
Terith blinked.
“When he fell. After he tried to kill you.”
“Oh, yeah. That.”
Well, everybody makes mistakes, Terith thought, as Onneth blinked away tears, or batted her eyes at him—he couldn’t tell.
“Terith,” Enala cried, prying him away from Onneth, “Thank the Guardians, you’re safe. I knew you would be chief too—sorry, Father.” She curtsied to Ferrin, who had just stepped into the cavern with a mix of surprise and relief on his fatigued features.
“Terith?” Lilleth questioned softly, stepping closer. “Was anyone behind you?”
He nodded. “Pert. But he didn’t come in time.”
Sensing his unease, she asked quietly, “What happened back there?”
Before Terith could answer, Lilleth peered into his eyes and saw for herself. “You fought.”
Terith nodded. “There was fire—he should have died, but . . .” Terith didn’t finish, unable to speak of the dark awakening with the others listening.
“Look at you,” Lilleth said. “Oh, Terith. This need
s bandaging. Can you take it off?”
“I’ll help,” Enala volunteered. She yanked the shoulder section of his leathers up and over his head to reveal a long wound on his shoulder that continued to drip blood onto his torso.
Terith winced not at the pain, but at how awful it looked.
“That blood,” Enala said, grabbing her sister by the arm for support. The dark of her pupils seemed as dark as the deep. “Pert did that . . . he’s coming back. He’ll—”
“Hush,” Lilleth said, cradling Enala’s head against her chest. “We’re safe. Terith is safe.” She wrapped a wool blanket over his shoulders to cover his wound.
Terith closed his eyes, feeling the new freedom, the new self that enveloped him. He was the champion of champions. It was all worth it.
“Terith?” Enala asked meekly, her eyes hopeful and full of expectation. “What about your choice?”
The room became still. For a long moment, he felt out this new awakening. It didn’t matter now who he chose. He would be the ruler by right, not inheritance.
Terith opened his eyes. “I’ve thought about it, and—”
“No.” Ferrin said, from just inside the sheet of rain that blurred the landing field. “You have been chosen as chief, and that means a ceremony. Realms come before romances.”
He was met with a chorus of protest from the eligible.
Ferrin led Terith out of the keep. “We all saw the sign, Terith. Dungeons, half the crowd thought there had been some kind of explosion. It felt like my heart had dropped right out of my chest. I’m a free man. From now on, you must shoulder the fate of this realm.”
Terith nodded. “Glad to.” The grin on his face couldn’t have been any wider.
“Well, then, it stands for a man like me, with two eligible daughters to bring that fact to your attention. I should hope to be your father, if you should choose one of my daughters.”
Ferrin led Terith onto the now-crowded landing field.
The rain slowed to a drizzle. Terith was sure it had something to do with Ferrin’s daughters coming outside. The muted tones of a wide rainbow showed in the thinning cloud cover.
