The Riders of Thunder Realm

by Steven Lochran

  Joss, overwhelmed by such generosity of spirit, could only crinkle his brow and offer Drake a reserved smile. ‘I don’t know how many people would agree with you on that … but I appreciate you saying it.’

  ‘I make it a point to never take small-minded opinions to heart,’ Drake said with a shrug that was almost visible beneath his furs.

  ‘You could charge a handsome price teaching people that talent,’ replied Zeke as he snagged a drink from the tray of a service mek and downed it in one gulp.

  ‘And I’d be your first student,’ Joss added. Between Zeke’s friendly manner and Drake’s kindness, he was already feeling better about counting them as his brethren. Hero, on the other hand, reminded him of Sur Verity in all the worst ways. Being bound to her for life was a daunting prospect, though hopefully that would change once they were on the road together.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please!’ a voice rang out over the crowd. Joss and everyone else looked towards the centre of the stage to see Grandmaster Eno standing on a podium, his usual armour traded in for an ornate suit of bronze.

  To his left was the flag of Ai, navy with a ring of golden stars surrounding a crown. To his right was the unofficial flag of Thunder Realm, sky blue on top and soil red on the bottom, with twin song swords crossed in the middle. Both flags curled and waved in the air while the grandmaster stood resolutely still, his song sword drawn in front of him with his hands resting on the pommel, his bald head streaked with sweat.

  ‘Those who are to be Bladebound, take your places,’ he said, gazing down at Joss and the other prentices by his side. ‘The ceremony is now to begin.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A THOUSAND EYES

  JOSS felt a thousand eyes fall upon him as he walked to his place on the stage, which was marked by a rotating illumigram of Round Shield Ranch’s emblem. Drake stood next to him under the swooping, four-pointed star of his order, while Hero skulked beneath the pterosaurs and mountain peaks of Blade’s Edge Acres. When Zeke joined them to stand under the purple lightning bolt of Zadkille Station, Grandmaster Eno thumped the tip of his blade on the stage and began the ceremony.

  ‘Tradition is sacred. Tradition keeps us strong,’ he thundered, his voice rolling across the silent crowd gathered before them. ‘For countless generations, it has been the tradition of the paladeros to send their prentices, when they come of age, into the world to prove themselves worthy of ascension. This year we have before us four hopefuls, ready to take that journey …’

  Stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye, Joss could see Sur Verity standing to the side of the stage. She was watching the ceremony with her back straight and her head held high. Joss tried to mirror her posture, feeling that the best he could accomplish was a pale imitation. As it was, he was still the shortest figure on the stage.

  Grandmaster Eno continued: ‘To do that, you four must journey to the Ghost City of Vaal. There you will hunt for a Questing Bird – the rarest breed of pterosaur, and the only species of thunder lizard to have ever defied the taming of a paladero – and if you are each capable enough to return with an egg, you will have proven to us your readiness for training. The one form of aid you will receive from us is this.’ A mek floated forward holding a satin pillow in its rickety limbs, in the middle of which sat a rod of glowing silver. It looked unlike anything Joss had seen before, and certainly nothing like what he’d imagined it to be.

  ‘The Constellation Key,’ Eno said, picking the object up by its chain necklace. ‘With this you may open the gates of Vaal. For anything else, you must rely only on your wits, your weapons and your Bladebound brethren. This is the Way of the Paladero.’

  ‘The Way of the Paladero,’ the crowd echoed.

  Grandmaster Eno sheathed his song sword. ‘I call forth Sur Verity Wolfsbane.’

  Maintaining her level gaze, Sur Verity marched forward and drew the golden sword, ignoring the murmurs of those in the crowd surprised to see her standing in for the Blade Keeper. With Eno still at the podium, Sur Verity took her place before him.

  ‘Prentice Ezekiel Zadkille, step forward,’ Grandmaster Eno said, and Zeke marched across the stage to kneel before Sur Verity. As she held the sword in front of him, he placed his hand on its blade.

  ‘Do you swear to honour the traditions and values of the paladero? To ride with honour, and to raise your weapon only in defence of your kin, your keep and your countrymen?’

  ‘I do,’ Zeke said solemnly.

  ‘Do you swear to obey your lord, to devote yourself to your order, to heed the call of your ruler in times of crisis?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘And do you swear your loyalty to those who will go with you on this quest? Do you swear to treat them as your brethren, defending them when they are threatened and working with them towards your mutual endeavour?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then with the drawing of blood, I proclaim you Bladebound …’ Grandmaster Eno nodded to Sur Verity and she ran the edge of the Champion’s Blade across Zeke’s palm, cutting him. He winced as the red of his blood mixed with the gold of the blade.

  ‘Rise, Prentice Zadkille, and join your brethren,’ Grandmaster Eno said as Sur Verity took a rag soaked in alcohol to clean off Zeke’s blood.

  ‘Prentice Ganymede Drake, step forward and kneel …’ the Grandmaster said once Zeke had taken his place back in line. Drake quickly knelt before Eno, and eagerly assented to all the vows that the Grandmaster recited.

  When Drake’s blood had been drawn and he’d resumed his place, it was then Hero’s turn. Joss couldn’t hear her say her ‘I dos,’ but she must have given them as she too had her hand cut by the Champion’s Blade.

  Each of Joss’s fellow prentices had their wounds quietly inspected and bandaged by hovering medi-meks as the ceremony continued, meaning that they were trussed up and ready to go by the time it was his turn to take his vows.

  ‘Prentice Josiah Sarif …’ Grandmaster Eno said stiffly, his demeanour darkening a shade. ‘Step forward.’

  As he knelt before Sur Verity, Joss’s mind leapt with irrational thoughts. Grandmaster Eno’s words were little more than a whisper to him as he recited his lines. Instead, he wondered exactly how much Sur Verity would relish the opportunity to cut him with his own blade. Would she perhaps apply just a touch more pressure, cutting him deeper than the others in the hopes of teaching him a lesson? It took all he had not to pull his hand away when the moment came.

  ‘With the drawing of blood, I proclaim you Bladebound …’ Grandmaster Eno said, and Sur Verity dragged the sword across his hand. For all his concern, Joss found that the cut was a small one that hardly hurt. He looked up at Sur Verity, but her attention was focused squarely on the middle distance.

  ‘Your vows are made and your fates are bound. Who will be the first of you to carry the Constellation Key?’

  Joss and the others looked at one another, none of them having known that this question would be asked of them. Before anyone else had the chance to reply, Zeke stepped forward. ‘I will, Grandmaster.’

  ‘Very good,’ Eno said, and took hold of the key once more to hand it to Zeke. It shone in his hands as a crystal would, scattering rainbows across the faces of the
onlookers, until the young Zadkille strung it around his neck and tucked it beneath his shirt.

  As the key disappeared from sight, Joss wondered about the character of this princeling with whom his fate was now entwined. Could he be trusted with such a precious item? Had Zeke also been approached by Thrall? Had the others? Joss worried that he was the only one, marked by the mysterious figure as the weak link in the chain, the runt who could be easily manipulated.

  ‘There is now nothing left but for the four of you to go and claim your destiny. Grandmaster Warburn?’ Eno looked over at his fellow council member, standing at the front of the crowd.

  ‘Bring forward the mounts!’ Grandmaster Warburn bellowed, and a pair of blast doors rumbled open on the other side of the rooftop. Zeke’s jet-cycle was the first to come through, leading itself out on auto-pilot.

  Joss hoped that Azof might be next as the thunder lizard’s familiar face would help to settle his nerves, but instead out padded a sabretooth, its golden fur rippling in the sunshine. A floating mechanoid was attached to the tiger by a leash, escorting it across the rooftop to be reunited with Hero, who bared her teeth in something that looked like a grin.

  The next mount was a hulking mass of muscles and mottled fur, its black eyes and nose like rocks in a field of snow and ash. It was the first time that Joss had ever seen a tundra bear, and it was even larger than he had imagined. Maybe that had to do with all the supplies it had piled upon its armoured harness, making it resemble a swaying caravan as it ambled over to Drake.

  Azof was tiny by comparison as he was brought out behind the bear, but no less magnificent. His scales had been polished, his feathers washed, his fangs cleaned. In fact, he looked so unrecognisable that it was only when he started snapping at the members of the crowd who came too close that Joss could be sure it was him.

  ‘Good to see you again, boy,’ Joss whispered, accepting the reins from the mechanoid. The raptor snorted in reply as he butted his brow against Joss’s forehead.

  ‘Bladebound, mount up!’ Grandmaster Gilmyn cried out from opposite Warburn. Joss slid his foot into one of Azof ’s stirrups and pulled himself up into the saddle. Everyone looked so much smaller at this height. Everyone but Sur Verity.

  ‘You’ll need this,’ she said, appearing beside him to hand over the Champion’s Blade. Taking it from her with his bandaged hand, he fumbled as he gratefully reattached it to his belt. ‘Make sure not to lose it. I fully intend on winning it back at the next Tournament.’

  ‘I’ll take good care of it for you in the meantime,’ Joss managed, and Sur Verity smirked. The sudden flash of warmth came as a surprise to him after all her disdain since the Tournament. It felt almost friendly.

  Her smile disappeared, however, as she glanced around at the grandmasters. Then she rose up to whisper in Joss’s ear. ‘This will be a greater challenge than you’re expecting,’ she said quietly. ‘Questing Birds have been growing harder and harder to find for years now. You’ll all need to work together if you’re to have any chance of success. If you even make it that far.’

  Joss wavered, unsure of how to respond. He was still wrestling with what exactly to say when Grandmaster Eno raised a hand to once again call for silence.

  ‘We bid you ride well,’ he said to all the Bladebound, and the crowd again repeated his words in unison. Parting slowly, they revealed a platform on the side of the building large enough to carry all four prentices and their mounts.

  Joss looked down at Sur Verity, who offered a small nod as she stepped back. There was no going back now, no second-guessing. There lay ahead only the road, and at the end of it glory or ruin.

  ‘Well – what are we waiting for?’ Zeke grinned as he revved his jet-cycle into gear, leading the way onto the platform. The crowd watched the other prentices take their place beside him, the howling wind intensifying as they each neared the edge. Azof bucked nervously as he caught sight of the drop, as well as the lack of guardrails to keep them from slipping over.

  Joss couldn’t blame him. The previous day’s ride up had been nerve-racking enough, and that had been in an elevator that actually had walls. Now here they were at the top of the world with nothing between them and the vast blue sky. But still he guided the raptor onto the platform, turning him around to take one last look at the crowd.

  As he searched the faces before him, Joss kept a lookout for one in particular. He saw no masks, though, no hint of stone hidden beneath black hoods. He didn’t know whether to feel relieved at the absence or worried that he might be going mad. Either way, it was a concern for another time. Right now, all he could worry about was the feeling of the platform as it unlocked from the edge of the building to trundle downwards.

  The crowd slipped away as the platform picked up speed, hurtling down the length of Tower Town. Joss looked at the other prentices – now his Bladebound brethren, he reminded himself – and saw that they all appeared unruffled by the velocity of their descent. Holding tighter to Azof ’s reins, he frowned to keep from closing his eyes and waited for the ride to be over.

  The brakes of the platform screeched and sparked as it neared the ground. When finally they landed, the camera-eyed mechanoid from the previous day gazed up at them.

  ‘Please clear the platform,’ it instructed, then went back to its control panel. One by one, Joss and his brethren rode from the platform through the shanty village, over the salt flats, and on into the wilds beyond.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A MEETING IN DARKNESS

  THRALL untied the small velvet pouch from his belt and opened it. Inside, the flakes of dried blood glittered like rubies in the light of the full moon. He sprinkled a pinch of the precious material on the fire he’d built in the middle of the Searing Sands, and the flames exploded into a violent shade of red.

  Kneeling in front of the fire, Thrall watched as a luminous face materialised before him.

  ‘My lady,’ Thrall said, bowing his head.

  ‘Thrall,’ the face yawned with regal indifference. ‘You have tidings for me?’

  ‘The proposal has been set forth, my lady,’ said Thrall, finding it hard to read the witch’s face through the flickering of the flames. ‘And accepted. We will have aid in our endeavour.’

  ‘And that’s what you saw fit to bother me with?’ the face hissed, its few recognisable features flaring with anger. ‘Come to me when you have something of substance to report. Until then, I suggest you focus on the task at hand. Do you understand, Thrall?’

  The stone mask Thrall wore did not move. The face hidden beneath it did.

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Good,’ the witch replied. ‘Then vex me no longer. I have more pressing matters at hand.’

  The flames blazed, then burnt down until there was nothing left but cinders. Thrall felt all the warmth leave him as he stood a moment to watch Tower Town swaying in the distance. Then, with the wind howling across the red sands, he began his long slow march through the desert and on to the Backbone Ranges.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A SHADOW OF PAIN

  'SO … where to from here?’ Joss asked, looking around at the other faces gathered by the fire. After riding all afternoon they’d finally stopped to rest shortly before dusk, sett
ing up their campsite in a field just off a crossroad. His hand was buzzing from where it had been sliced during the ceremony, his bandage wrapped so tight it made the tips of his fingers numb.

  If this were an ordinary muster their mounts would all be corralled together for the night, but that wasn’t possible with this strange menagerie. Hero’s sabretooth, Callie, couldn’t be within reach of Azof without the two of them hissing at each other. And though Drake’s tundra bear, Pietro, seemed gentle enough, he too snarled dire warnings at the others if left alone with them.

  ‘Good question,’ Zeke said, dusting the breadcrumbs off his hands to reach into his pocket and pull out a thick disc made of silver, copper and polished glass.

  ‘Is that a Scryer?’ Joss asked with wonder.

  ‘The latest model,’ Zeke replied, grinning proudly. ‘Not even on the market yet. My father’s good friends with the head of the company …’

  Zeke pressed the centre of the disc and the entire campsite lit up as illumigrams floated in the air before them. Waving his hand in the air, Zeke swept through various display screens until he found what he was looking for. ‘We’re here,’ he said, pointing at a map that showed a bunch of dots collected together at a crossroads. Joss stared in shock. The map actually included them, as well as their mounts. ‘And we need to get here …’

  Zeke flicked his hand and the entire map rushed past in a blur, until it landed again on the city of Vaal in the north-east tip of Ai. ‘Now, by my reckoning, we’d be best off taking the direct path …’ Zeke scaled back the map so that both points could now be seen, and gestured at a line that ran from where they sat through a forested area, and on into the undercity of Dragon’s Tail in the Backbone Ranges. ‘Don’t you all agree?’