Brim had explained the process to him. After his Flier, Sula, had accidentally kicked Brauk and paralyzed him, Brim had needed a way to keep Rahkki’s brother calm and quiet. She’d created a sleeping medicine out of dragon drool and fed it to Brauk while his spine healed. But Rahkki didn’t know how to describe the steps in Gorlish. Finally, he dropped his hands and shrugged.
Annoyed, the Fire prince signed, “Follow me.”
Rahkki limped after the prince, sweating. Red-orange lava bubbled down the volcanoes’ peaks and hardened before it reached the warren that had been dug into its base. Wildflowers layered the lower slopes in arrays of colors from silken pastels to vibrant shades of blue, red, green, and yellow.
The Highland giants unpacked their elephants and led them toward a steaming river to bathe while Rahkki followed the prince’s bare heels. They halted at a large hole in the ground. As Rahkki scanned the area, he noticed dozens of such dark holes. Each housed a carved stone staircase that circled into the bowels of the land.
Torches flickered, maybe fifty lengths below. The king grunted, nudging Rahkki again, and the boy understood he was to descend into the pit. Just then Tak landed on his shoulder. “Crawk!” the dragon shrieked, bobbing his golden-scaled neck.
The Fire prince snorted at Rahkki. “Keep going.”
Rahkki lowered his crutch and then himself into the darkness. Behind him, the prince smacked his lips and a line of drool rolled from the corner of his mouth. All of Rahkki’s fears resurfaced. Had the Highland prince spared him so the Fire prince could eat him? Fresh sweat burst across his brow and dripped into his eyes. So what if the Gorlanders had splinted his ankle and fed him delicious soup—they were still giants, the sworn enemies of his clan.
Rahkki swallowed as he scuttled down the wide stone staircase. Looking up, he caught a glimpse of the mist-shrouded sky. He imagined a Sky Guard patrol, one led by his brother, descending to rescue him. But Rahkki’s brother was still paralyzed. He couldn’t walk, let alone fly. “By Granak and the Seven Sisters,” Rahkki implored his clan’s protectors, “watch over me.”
Tak shot green-colored fire into the darkness ahead and hummed in Rahkki’s ear as the frightened boy shuffled deeper into the warren.
5
Big Rain
THE FIRST THING THE FIRE KING DID WAS TO serve Rahkki soup in an enormous underground cavern. This broth tasted even better than the Highland mixture, smoother yet spicier. Miah sat next to Rahkki.
“When is the horde meeting?” he signed.
“When Great Cave Horde arrives.” She addressed him using his new Gorlish name, a shrug combined with helpless-looking hands. The silly gesture made many Fire Horde giants smile.
Ignoring them, Rahkki asked about Rizah. “How is winged horse?”
Miah shrugged again, and Rahkki sagged against the rock wall.
After soup, the giants assigned Rahkki to a small cavern of his own. Miah followed him and Rahkki’s golden dragon perched on his shoulder, breathing hot steam into his ear.
Over the next few days, life in the warren quickly settled into a pattern. During waking hours, the giants allowed Rahkki to explore the caverns and passageways that made up the underground settlement. Embedded glow stones helped brighten the darkest areas of the warren, and a lava river flowed far below the chiseled pathways, sometimes diving deeper underground and then reappearing elsewhere. Miah or one of her brothers always accompanied him, and he was glad for the escort, because the passageways spread in a maze of tentacles beneath the three volcanoes. It would be easy to become lost forever.
Now, he and Miah were wandering the tunnels and chucking rocks into seemingly bottomless pits that dotted the caverns. Rahkki leaned heavily on his crutch, which had begun to chafe the skin under his arm. The warren was hot and loud. Rahkki needed fresh air and new possibilities for escape. “Can we go up?” he asked, pointing overhead.
Miah frowned and then acquiesced. “Okay.”
Rahkki hadn’t expected her to say yes. She led him onto the main thoroughfare, a wide stone pathway worn smooth from years of use. It connected all the warren’s caves and the narrower paths that branched off in every direction. Tak rode happily in Rahkki’s shirt.
They crossed a bamboo bridge and padded down a stone pathway toward one of the many spiral staircases that led up to the jungle floor. A rain-scented breeze swept toward Rahkki from above as Miah helped him climb the stairs. They emerged at the base of a volcano.
The cropped mountaintop belched a smoky greeting. It was nighttime aboveground, which surprised Rahkki since he’d just eaten breakfast. He wondered if Fire Horde slept during the day so they could venture outside after dark and avoid the sun. Static and moisture filled the air and Rahkki’s crutch sank into the soft soil.
Miah paused, breathing in the fresh air. “It’s going to rain,” she signed. “We can’t stay long.”
Tak climbed onto Rahkki’s shoulder and then winged into the sky, chasing insects, singeing them with his blue flame and then swallowing them whole. His golden scales appeared white in the moonlight.
A few raindrops splattered Rahkki’s nose as he stretched his arms and inhaled the humid air. On the volcano’s western slope, a small group of Fire Horde giants were hunched over, picking herbs and pruning flowers. It seemed delicate work for their large clawed hands, but the giants were gentle and careful. He glanced at the nearby forest and considered running away, but there were too many giants outside—they would catch him in three strides.
Rahkki squinted past the clouds that shaped the gray expanse and thought of Sula. Had she survived Harak’s arrow? He hoped so. Fire Horde’s flight of burners was out hunting, and when they spotted Tak flying on his own, they veered closer, hissing and shooting cold-purple flames at him.
Tak pinned his wings and dived toward land.
They followed, singeing him with hotter flames and screeching. Tak’s scales were fireproof, but his delicate frills were not. He sprang his wings wide and tried to glide away. They chased him.
“Tak! Come here,” Rahkki cried.
The dragon’s small eyes landed on Rahkki. He emitted a soft, grateful cry and dived straight at him. Rahkki held out his shirt like a net. Tak slammed into it and Rahkki quickly wrapped him up. His little golden body was trembling, and his small heart thumped rapidly.
“Get,” Rahkki yelled at the flight of burners. They hissed at him and then winged away, chirping and flaming the clouds, back on the hunt.
Just then the sky shuddered and dropped rain like a waterfall, instantly dousing Rahkki. The Gorlanders who’d been gardening on the hill stampeded, their eyes wide, their tusks flashing. Tak scuttled beneath Rahkki’s arm.
“Run!” Miah signed. She sprinted toward the warren.
The Gorlanders poured into the stairwells, and no one was paying any attention to Rahkki. This was his chance to get back to Highland Horde, retrieve Rizah, and fly home. He turned and limped away as fast as he could.
A massive giantess spotted him. With a low growl, she snatched him up and raced to a stairwell. With a mighty push, she leaped off the ground. Rahkki shrieked as they flew straight up, thirty lengths in the air, and then dropped at a dizzying speed into the warren, bypassing the steps altogether. The walls blurred as Rahkki fell with her, screaming all the way down. Tak bit Rahkki’s skin to better hold on and Rahkki howled louder.
They landed with a crashing thud, and Rahkki’s head snapped forward and then back. His vision blackened, then returned.
The giantess shook the rain out of her hair. Gray soot ran down her cheeks like war stripes. She gazed up with fearful eyes.
“Bloody rain,” Rahkki cried in Sandwen. “It’s just a storm.”
The adult giantess set him down in front of Miah, who was wringing out her dress and glaring at him. “Did you try to run away?” she asked.
Rahkki stared at her, wobbling on his crutch. “Don’t you get it, I want to go home. Home,” he signed, pointing west.
Miah puffe
d her lips, a Gorlish pout. “My da won’t be happy if I lose you.”
Rahkki exhaled, reminding himself she was just a child. “I’m sorry,” he gestured, and then asked, “Is rain scary?” He was wondering why the giants had stampeded.
She glared at the cavern ceiling, as if she could see the sky beyond. “Big rain is scary,” she signed, spreading her arms wide.
“Like a monsoon?”
Miah’s sire approached and cuffed Rahkki. “To the soup,” he signed, scowling.
Rahkki, Miah, and Tak followed him to the main cavern, which soon filled with snarls, growls, and soft rumbles. Miah’s brothers, Drake, Krell, and Fallon, joined them.
Prince Daanath squatted, leaning toward Rahkki like a bent tree. “Do not try to run away again.” He grunted accusingly, his brows hunching. “You will attend our horde meeting. I told you that,” he signed.
Rahkki understood more Gorlish words each day he lived with the giants and felt more confident communicating. “Do you promise I go home after horde meeting?”
The prince flashed his yellow tusks. “I’ll take you myself.”
Rahkki peered at the prince whose life he’d once saved from an attacking python. Could he trust him? Did he have a choice? Rahkki offered a curt nod and the giant left him, looking satisfied.
Miah brought Rahkki a bowl of soup. They sat and she held his hand. Her blue eyes glowed in the warm light of the cooking fire and her long red tangles fell about her shoulders.
“Thanks,” he signed, taking the bowl and shaking his wet hair, flinging water droplets in an arc.
As the giants settled to wait out the storm, a resounding roar filled the chamber and every single giant rose. Rahkki propped himself against Miah, straining to see between all the bodies. A hulking Gorlander appeared at the entranceway to the cavern, wearing a half wreath of saber-cat tusks. He roared again, sounding like a lion.
The other hordes roared back, shaking the walls and vibrating Rahkki’s chest. Tak darted down from the ceiling and shot happy green flames over everyone’s heads.
Rahkki smiled. Great Cave Horde had finally arrived.
6
The Plan
ECHOFROST OPENED HER EYES, FEELING GROGGY. She spied jade feathers and a long black forelock—Hazelwind. They were lying together beneath a Kapok tree just outside the Sandwen settlement. A basket of grain and a pile of fresh hay waited untouched beside her. Echofrost flared her nostrils. Brim’s scent lingered in the area, but the Sandwen healer was not currently present.
Around the Kapok tree, the Storm Herd pegasi grazed, ripping succulent jungle plants out of the soil with their teeth and drinking from a shallow creek. Pegasus warriors formed a perimeter, protecting them. Echofrost let out a huge breath. This was home—a pegasus herd.
“Welcome back,” Hazelwind nickered, looking relieved.
Echofrost blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been asleep for three days.” He slid his wing across her back. “Look what the Landwalker healer did to you.”
She glanced down at her injury. “Oh!” Harak’s arrow was gone, and in its place was a threaded stripe. She flared her nostrils, scenting soap and sinew. There should be a hole where the shaft had been, but Brim had sewn her hide back together as if it were a Sandwen satchel or piece of clothing. The even stitching created a neat line that ran between two rib bones. “By the Ancestors,” Echofrost nickered, “she repaired me.”
“Yes,” he answered. “But first, she inserted an open reed into the wound, allowing your lung to refill. I—I’ve never seen anything like it. She’s returned each night to check on you, and she brought this . . . Kihlari food.” His lip curled in distaste at the hay.
Echofrost nickered. “Hay isn’t so bad once you get used to it, and the grain is quite good.” Starving, she nosed the basket closer and devoured the millet.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
Her side ached where Brim had removed Harak’s arrow and she was still unable to draw a deep breath, but the pain had eased. “Better.” Hazelwind grew quiet. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He ruffled his jade feathers. “I should have rescued Shysong and gotten us out of here right away.”
“We’ve talked about this. You did what was best for Storm Herd,” she said. “Not even Shysong blames you for that.”
He shook his heavy black mane. “My sire taught me to protect the herd over the individual steeds, but that doesn’t make sense anymore.” His thoughts stormed across his face and shudders rippled through his jade plumage. “I was so sure of myself, but now . . . I don’t know anything. I’m confused and I can’t sleep. My stomach is spitting fire. I’m certain of only one thing—that I failed all of us when I abandoned Shysong.”
Echofrost lowered her head. “Your sire had the same regrets for how he treated Star in Anok.” When the supernatural black foal named Star had been born to Sun Herd—helpless and unable to fly, but destined to inherit potentially destructive powers—Hazelwind’s sire had chosen to execute him on his first birthday. But his choice had fueled the herd’s fear and caused wars and destruction.
Hazelwind nickered. “I should have learned.”
She pressed her forehead to his. “I think that leading a herd is complicated.”
His dark gaze swallowed hers and Echofrost’s ears grew hot. Hazelwind was so much like his sire, Thundersky—duty bound, practical, and decisive. She’d relied on him in war and in captivity. She’d heaped her grief and anger upon him, and Hazelwind hadn’t flinched. But since they’d arrived here, softer feelings for the buckskin slithered through her, as quick and elusive as minnows.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she nickered, still feeling disoriented. “Just . . . we need to figure out how to save Rahkki.” She imagined her cub’s small face, his bright-yellow eyes, his gentle fingers, and his woody, spiced breath. A painful longing to see him filled her. “We are saving him, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” Hazelwind nickered. “He’s the one who freed us, and Storm Herd won’t abandon him. Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said? When we fail one, we fail all.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t sure if you counted Rahkki as one of us.”
Hazelwind’s eyes brightened. “Just barely,” he teased.
She lurched to her hooves. “We should leave for Mount Crim now. It could already be too late.”
“No, let’s not rush this,” Hazelwind said, flipping aside his long, tangled forelock. “The giants captured Storm Herd because we weren’t prepared. We need trained sky herders to repel the burner dragons and we need more battle steeds. Gorlanders aren’t creatures we can easily overpower or spook, and beside all that, you’re not ready for battle.” He nodded toward the thin line of blood seeping from her closed wound.
“Rahkki can’t wait,” she grumbled.
“I think he can,” Hazelwind argued. “If they stole your cub to . . . to eat him . . . then he’s already dead. But if he’s alive, then they’ve taken him for another purpose. Better to prepare and do this right than to fail.”
She reluctantly agreed, and Hazelwind called Storm Herd with a crisp clap of his wings.
The steeds drew closer, as silent as shadows. Many approached and pressed their foreheads against Echofrost’s. Their folded wings glistened in the striped sunlight and she nodded approval. It appeared they’d spent the last three days preening and smoothing their crumpled feathers, replenishing their bellies, and treating their wounds while she slept. Freedom from the giants had caused the pegasi to bloom like spring flowers, and contentment flowed through Echofrost at the sight of them.
When all were gathered, they discussed saving Rahkki.
“We should send a scout to Mount Crim,” Shysong suggested.
“I’ll go,” Redfire volunteered. “I can ride the jet streams—no one will see me and it’s the fastest way to travel.”
Echofrost nodded and Graystone, who’d been gr
azing nearby, interjected. “What about the tame Kihlari?” he asked. “I agree with rescuing the cub—he saved us on Mount Crim—but Dewberry is furious about the Landwalkers selling foals. She won’t leave this place without the Ruk steeds.”
“Neither will I,” Hazelwind nickered. “Those Kihlari descend from the ancient Lake Herd pegasi of Anok. We can’t leave any behind who want to join us.”
“He’s right,” Echofrost nickered. Four hundred years earlier, when the ancient black foal named Nightwing had gained his power, he attacked his own kind. The Lake Herd steeds had fled Anok and flown south, landing here. Sandwens had captured them, tamed them, and turned them into flying warhorses.
When Storm Herd fled Anok for the same reason—fear of Nightwing, who had awakened from hibernation and was menacing the herds again—they’d landed on the same continent. But the Lake Herd pegasi had forgotten their wild roots and most had no desire to leave their safe stalls and regular meals.
Shysong spoke, affirming Echofrost’s thoughts. “Most Kihlari don’t want to leave, and I’m not sure how to convince them.”
“Leave it to Dewberry,” Graystone suggested. “That mare is persuasive.”
Panic bloomed in Echofrost’s chest. “Where is Dewberry?” she nickered. Through the fog of her long sleep and her concern for Rahkki, she hadn’t realized the pinto mare wasn’t present. She twirled on her back heels, about to utter a shrill whinny for her friend.
“Shh,” Hazelwind nickered, eyes glowing. “I hear her coming. She’s just moving a little slower these days.”
“Why? Is it the twins? Have they come?”
“Why don’t you see for yourself?”
A moment later, Dewberry stepped between the trees. Behind her, twin foals skittered out of the brush on unsteady legs. “You two are always off playing,” Dewberry groused, nosing them ahead of her. She spotted Echofrost and brightened. “You’re awake!”
Tears filled Echofrost’s eyes at the sight of her deceased brother’s family. The twins, a filly and a colt, flapped their fluffy wings to keep up with their dam. They were both pintos, just like their mother and their late sire, Bumblewind.
Riders of the Realm #3 Page 4
