by A A Woods
An idea struck her.
With a swell of adrenaline, she yanked Tuk through the last of the snow and threw them both into an alleyway. They sprinted through the narrow avenue between the Scara and Requin towers. Her heart thudded in her ears like a war drum. If anyone followed them, if so much as an ant witnessed their flight…
When the trapdoor came into view, she dropped to her knees to slide towards it. With one hand, she flipped the wood over. The other jabbed down.
“Climb!”
Thankfully, Tuk didn’t hesitate. Glancing over his shoulder, he dropped his legs into the hole and all but fell into the tunnels. Carlette jumped in after him, pulling the hatch closed over her head. The hounds were stirring, whining in pleasure at the surprise visit. She could sense a few of them inhaling, ready to bay with excitement. With a soft mental swoop, she pushed them back into sleep.
“We need to go deeper,” Carlette said, trying to keep her ragged panting quiet.
“What’s down there?”
“The larger animals. They used to bring them in through the mining tunnels before they collapsed the entries.”
“Collapsed the entries?”
“It’s our only chance,” Carlette said, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice.
They both knew escaping into the tunnels would only prolong the inevitable. In the labyrinth network of mines beneath their feet, they would either starve or be hunted down.
Carlette met Tuk’s eyes, not knowing what to say.
“Look at the pampered princess,” came a voice from above them, “so lost without the protection of her tower.”
Carlette’s stomach clenched. Her head jerked up.
Byrna hung above her, knees gripping Tabis’s black spine, face covered. Coal-black hair fanned around her face, framing glowing white-rimmed eyes.
Tuk shoved Carlette behind him, but Tabis’s feelers were already stretching towards them. Hopelessness filled her chest. Twice this girl had tricked them. Twice Byrna had beaten her.
They wouldn’t get lucky enough to escape again.
But, to Carlette’s surprise, Byrna released her knees and fell, twisting in the air like a panther. She landed lightly, knees absorbing the impact, and pulled her mask down.
In the dim light, it took Carlette a moment to realize she was grinning.
“Not sure if I want to work with a Furix who hides behind her man,” Byrna said with a smirk, folding her arms. “I might die of shame.”
For a moment, Carlette only gaped. And then Byrna reached into her belt, pulling out something shimmering and metallic.
She offered it out on one palm, cocking her head.
“No more excuses, larva-girl,” Byrna said with a wink. “I’d hate to think those chains are holding back your first romp in the hay.”
On Byrna’s hand, catching the torchlight like a precious jewel, was the tiny, glittering key to Tuk’s manacles.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Enemy of My Enemy
Deep in the belly of the mountain, Carlette was in total darkness. Byrna’s cairog clicked somewhere nearby and every time she heard the rocks shifting beneath its massive legs alarm rushed up her spine. Tuk’s silent discomfort twined with her own, at gross odds with Byrna’s amusement. To the beetle-speaker, traversing the utter blackness beneath Jemelle was as easy as walking. But for the rest of them it was like trying to stagger through the underworld.
When they paused at last to catch their breaths, Tabis keeping watch and Tuk struggling with the dirty keyholes of his manacles, Carlette was the first to break the stillness.
“Why did you save us?”
“I’m a creature of impulses,” Byrna answered from somewhere to Carlette’s right. “Do I need a reason?”
“If we’re going to trust you, yes.”
“Isn’t it enough for me to serve the Furix?”
“Like you served Yokan?”
“She’s not a Furix.”
“And I’m not a fool.” Carlette folded her arms even though no one could see it. “I want to know why you would turn against the Bloody Paws. You had no reason to.”
Byrna was silent for a moment and Carlette risked a tendril-stretch of power. Conflict swirled in her, and something deeper. Almost like… guilt.
“I’ve done many things,” Byrna said at last. Her voice was different now, serious for the first time since Carlette had met her. “I’ve killed men and women and left countless more to die. It never bothered me before.”
Carlette was silent. Tuk shifted beside her, the grating of metal on metal fading as he paused in his efforts. They could both feel the weight of Byrna’s words, the unnerving sincerity. They were at the beetle-speaker’s mercy, and yet Carlette felt like this obstinate, violent, reckless Moian girl was pleading for their acceptance, asking their forgiveness.
“However,” Byrna went on. “I’ve never, ever killed a child.”
“Byrna,” Carlette said after a moment. “What is Yokan planning to do?”
The girl was quiet for so long that Carlette wondered if she’d changed her mind about helping them. When she did speak, her voice was grave.
“She’s going to bait the Amonoux pack into Tuleaux. During the festival. The she-wolf has a pup right now and Yokan has already sent a hunting party out to capture it, alive. In the chaos, they’re going to kill the Magistrate.”
“How will they get through the fences?”
Byrna shifted but didn’t answer. The cairog made a clacking sound.
Suddenly, jarringly, everything slotted into place.
Carlette’s blood went cold.
“They’re going to use the students,” she whispered.
That was why Yokan hadn’t killed the guards. That was why she was keeping the young trainees alive. That was why she had jumped to defend Grand Mera before the fire could claim her best ticket into Tuleaux. Between Grand Mera’s presence and the festival, no one would look too closely when the entire school of Jemelle came for Gaulday. The prince was there, the Woodsman visiting, and the Pirate Queen was in chains. There was much to celebrate. Plenty of reasons for Grand Mera to bring the entire Order on a visit to the harbor city.
Yokan wasn’t going to sneak into Tuleaux.
She was going to march through the damned gates!
“She’ll kill everyone,” Carlette said, voice hollow. “If they put the Amonoux pup in the harbor…”
The series of events rolled out in Carlette’s mind as if they’d already happened: an infant wolf howling for its mother from a fishing boat, the tangy scent of its blood carrying over the open water; the Amonoux pack crashing right through the center of town, down the Rae du Ora, into the docks. They would rip through everything, tear apart anyone in their way.
And who would be in their way?
Jemelle’s students. Mya’s orphans. Sailors and vendors and merchants and whores.
Everyone.
“By the elders,” Carlette whispered, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead.
“That’s barbaric,” Tuk said, his voice a grimace of disgust.
“And your people’s attack on my city?” Byrna snapped. “The Nuri’s attempt to wipe out an entire Moian tribe in one move? What was that, mercy?”
Tuk didn’t answer.
“Yokan is no more or less barbaric than anyone on this island,” Byrna said, her ferocity back in full force. “She was made by your war and she won’t stop until it’s over.”
“And you?” Carlette cut in. “What’s your intent?”
Carlette could almost feel Byrna’s smile, the steel-edge blade of it.
“My intent,” Byrna purred, “is to kill as many settlers as I can before they get me.”
“What if I don’t want that?” Carlette said, dropping her hand. “Tell me, Byrna, what if serving the Furix means putting aside your vendetta? What if I want to make something better?”
“There is nothing better,” growled Byrna.
“My father used to tell a story,” Tuk
broke in, thoughtful and calm. “About two brothers.”
“Yes, because everything can be solved by a Nuri fable,” said Byrna with derision.
But Carlette waited for Tuk to continue.
“The two brothers were as different as night and day. One brother, the older one, found fault with everything. He would complain that his silk shoes were too tight, that his handmade clothing was scratchy, that his fine bread was too coarse. But the younger brother could find nothing wrong with anything. If someone stabbed him, this brother would claim it to be an honest mistake.”
Byrna heaved an exasperated sigh. Carlette shushed her.
“One day,” Tuk continued, ignoring them both, “the boys’ father decided it was time to test their natures. The man, a rich trader from Ayurai had purchased a new stallion. A great beast. And the father decided to give it to the older brother as a gift, to try and make him happy. But he didn’t want the younger brother’s incessant pleasantness to ruin the surprise, so the trader gifted the older boy a stall with the most gorgeous stallion from the Hisanan Planes and gave the younger brother a stall full of manure.
“When the morning came, the older brother found his gift and wept. When the father asked why, the boy said that it was so much work to care for a horse and that he would never have the time or skill to do such a magnificent beast justice. The boy mourned that he was not a very good rider and would look ridiculous on a stallion like this one. And of course, when he failed to do right by the animal, his father would be forced to sell it.
“Frustrated, the father went to the other brother, eager to see if at least one of his sons had some sense. But all he found was his youngest child, eagerly shoveling through the horse manure. When the trader asked the boy what he was doing, he eagerly replied ‘well with this much shit, there must be a horse in here somewhere.’”
Byrna snorted. “And that’s supposed to teach us that gift horses are a burden?”
Tuk chuckled.
“What I’m saying is that perhaps the shit we’re in depends on how we look at it,” he said, chains clinking as he shifted.
Byrna was silent for a long moment.
“You really believe in it, don’t you, larva-girl? This better future of yours?”
“I have to,” Carlette whispered.
Byrna snorted again, even rougher this time.
“Byrna,” Carlette went on. “Join me. I swear I will never ask you to murder innocents or kill children. We’ll find a way through this that doesn’t require us to become monsters. What do you say?”
“I say you’re raving mad,” Byrna laughed. “But luckily, so am I.”
“I’m glad,” Tuk said with a chuckle. “Because I don’t want to face you on the battlefield.”
“And I don’t want you at my back. What kind of pathetic rescue was that?”
“How did you get into Jemelle, Tuk?” Carlette asked, breaking in.
“I used the parachute,” he said in a sheepish voice, almost inaudible.
For a moment, neither girl spoke.
And then they both broke out laughing.
“Maybe you’re not so useless after all,” Byrna said with a cackle.
“I saw the Bloody Paws at the gate and I knew you were in danger,” Tuk said, voice thick with embarrassment.
Byrna gagged.
“Urg, I’m going to be sick.”
Carlette was glad the beetle-speaker couldn’t see the flush she could feel spreading on her pale cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said to Tuk, and meant it.
“If we are going to thank each other every time danger strikes,” Byrna drawled, “go ahead and slice my throat.”
“We need a plan,” Carlette said, ignoring her. “We have to stop the hunt.”
The return of the harsh scraping indicated Tuk was wrestling with his manacles again. Byrna spoke over the sound.
“You want to go into the Shadow Peaks and stop Yokan’s best Ebonal hunters from doing exactly what they want to do?”
Her question was incredulous… and maybe just a little bit admiring.
Carlette’s brain hummed with ideas, each more foolish than the last. “We’ll need mountain stags.”
“Oh no, I don’t ride anything that has less than ten legs.”
“Who’s the coward now?” Tuk grumbled.
“They’ll be tied outside Jemelle,” Carlette said, thinking aloud. “I can find them. We’ll only need two; Byrna’s small enough to ride with me. Once we get them, we should be able to catch up to the hunting party.”
“Yeah, because catching up is the easy part.”
“Do you want to help or not?”
“Just pointing out the obvious.”
Carlette was ready to snap back, but there was a click and a rustle and then Tuk whooped with joy.
“Yes!” he cried. A flung hand struck Carlette’s shoulder. “Sorry.”
“What do you think?” Carlette asked, turning toward him.
“I’m with you,” he answered. She could picture his grin, imagine him rubbing his raw, bare wrists. “And I’ll be a lot more helpful from now on.”
Carlette’s adrenaline was pumping. Her plan unfolded like a rope bridge, wavering and unstable but holding firm.
“If we can stop them from getting the wolf pup, will Yokan back down?”
“I don’t know,” Byrna said. “She can’t take Tuleaux on her own. But even if the pack never shows up, she’ll still be inside the city walls.”
“Which could cause damage,” Tuk said.
“Not nearly as much,” Carlette said. “Stop the hunt and we’ll ruin the worst of her plan. We might even reach Tuleaux and warn someone.”
“I should have known I’d signed up to save settlers.” But Byrna didn’t sound overly bothered.
Carlette rubbed her face, a giddy kind of terror welling inside her. “Ok, so we track the Ebonal hunting party down on stolen mountain stags that I’ve only enhabited once before, save the Amonoux pup without being eaten by the she-wolf, and then try to reach Tuleaux before Yokan arrives, all while somehow avoiding arrest and execution. Did I miss anything?”
Byrna’s cackle filled the cavern, making her cairog snip disapprovingly.
“Count me in.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Old Stories
Riding a mountain stag through the stark white landscape felt like flying. Carlette’s hair whipped out behind her, blending in with the hills. The enormous stags moved like wraiths, hooves churning, mist pluming from their wide nostrils in thick bursts. With effortless grace the beasts floated over snow so deep it would have swallowed Byrna whole.
Beside her, Tuk cried out in surprise as his mount cleared a boulder that was almost the size of Grand Mera’s hut.
“I know how he feels,” Byrna grumbled behind Carlette. The Moian girl’s arms had been vice-tight around Carlette’s waist since they’d set out, leaving two stunned Bloody Paw guards and the rest of the mountain stags scattered in their wake. At the edge of the Wandering Pass, Byrna had clicked a command to Tabis and the cairog disappeared into the mountain, absorbed by the morning shadows
Carlette had been too afraid to ask Byrna what she’d said.
And now, holding the two stags with loose mental tethers, Carlette drove them hard. She could feel their massive, pumping hearts, their long, confident limbs and quick, savage eyes.
It was the kind of freedom she’d never known, had always secretly wanted.
Byrna and Tuk, however, felt quite differently.
“You’re crushing my ribs,” Carlette said, trying to shift forward on the shaped leather saddle, decorated with bones.
“Too bad,” Byrna growled, squeezing tighter as they cleared a wide crevasse.
“If I die, nothing will stop the stags from eating you.”
Her grip loosened.
Carlette felt herself grinning against her will. It was treacherous to feel such pure and unadulterated joy when Grand Mera’s brain was being starved and the children of Je
melle were in imminent danger. But, as her stag clicked over a rocky outcropping and launched them over a ditch, she couldn’t help it.
“How are you?” Carlette called over.
“Just. Fine,” Tuk said between gritted teeth.
She laughed, the sound as fluttery as her loose hair.
“I hate blood-hunters,” Byrna muttered.
“What?”
“Those who enhabit animals.”
“Aren’t they common among Moians?”
“You expect me to share the secrets of my people?”
Carlette blew out a frustrated breath. “How are we supposed to work together you if you don’t trust me?”
Byrna mumbled something distinctly offensive. Carlette guided their stag into another ground-eating leap, making Byrna yelp and burrow her face into Carlette’s back.
“Fine, fine, what do you want to know.”
Carlette was silent for a moment. The icy wind whipped at her cheeks.
At last she said, “Tell me about Voka.”
“You’ve heard the stories.”
“Only what I’ve been allowed to hear,” Carlette said, guilt squirming in her stomach like worms. “I want to know the truth.”
Byrna chuckled into Carlette’s back.
“The truth?” Carlette heard a snort. “Spoken like a true settler to believe such a thing even exists. You think I met Voka? Shook her hand and cleaned her chamber pot?”
Carlette frowned. “I know your people have their own stories. I want to hear them.”
For several thick heartbeats of the mountain stag, she wondered if Byrna was going to ignore her question. Irritation grated the edges of Carlette’s euphoria.
“Voka was magnificent,” Byrna said at last, her voice muffled as she kept her face buried. “They say she stood as tall as any man, taller than most. She painted her white hair with blood and was first to wear the paw tattoo. My father met her once, when he was just a boy. Said she was the kind of warrior who could face down an aurok and win.”
Carlette breathed in time with the stags, absorbing the image. Somehow, this woman was in Carlette’s family tree, in her. Was Voka her grandmother? Great-grandmother? Aunt or cousin?
