Brim nodded. “The Borla sentenced her to the Sunstone.”
Rahkki’s jaw clamped shut.
“Don’t worry, she escaped! I’Lenna is alive, no thanks to her mother. They called a dragon and one came, but I saw Koko yesterday. She was sneaking around that night with Mut, Tam, and Jul. They loosed some goats to distract the beast.” Brim pursed her lips. “Lilliam has gone too far.”
Rahkki nodded, his heart racing as he imagined I’Lenna fighting off a hungry drooler. “Where is she now?”
“She left with Mut and Tam to find Darthan, but I haven’t heard anything new. No one is talking. Harak has ears everywhere.”
Rahkki met Brim’s warm blue eyes. “I have to find her, and I have to warn the clan. The giants are angry, Brim. I—I made them angry.”
She arched her gray brows. “We’ve been at war with the Gorlanders for a thousand years, Rahkki. I doubt you’ve made things worse.”
He laughed. Brim always made him feel better. “That’s true, but I think I did. I struck a truce with all three hordes and they offered to help me fight Queen Lilliam, but then I ruined Fire Horde’s soup.” He shrugged helplessly. “Now they’re sending three armies to finish us off for good. That’s worse, isn’t it?”
There was a long silence marked only by Tak’s claws clicking on the floor as he chased a beetle. “Is he killing that bug or playing with it?” Brim asked, momentarily avoiding the subject of the giants.
“Both,” Rahkki said. As if on cue, Tak froze the beetle with his cold purple fire, turning him into an icy snack.
Brim clucked her tongue and then returned her attention to Rahkki. “Did the giants hurt you for ruining their soup?” she asked. “I’ve treated the ant bites, but your arms are heavily bruised.”
Rahkki rolled up his sleeves and saw blue, black, and purple colors blooming across his skin. “No,” he said, crinkling his brow, “giants are strong, that’s all.”
She hissed softly between her teeth. “And they’re going to destroy us because you ruined their dinner?”
Rahkki shook his head. “Not exactly. I spoiled a very old soup by throwing a catfish into it. Did you know that giants don’t eat meat? That all the stories about them eating Sandwen children aren’t true?”
Brim squinted and took a chair. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “We have to warn the clan that they’re coming.”
“I’ll get the word out,” she promised, “but you must stay hidden. I heard about the trick you pulled, putting the giants to sleep instead of killing them during the battle for the wild herd. Quite clever, but Harak thinks you’re a deathlifter.” Her brief, proud smile faded fast. “He’s ordered his soldiers to capture you on sight. And he’s offered a full round to anyone who turns you in.”
“A full round!” A Sandwen could live for years on that much coin.
She nodded. “No one but your family can know you’re back. And you need to rest. I’ll make you a tea and cut some fruit. You tell me more about these giants.”
Moments later Brim placed a steaming cup of tea and a plate of mangoes and sweetened bread in front of Rahkki. He dug in with his filthy fingers, cramming the delicious bread into his mouth and slurping the hot tea while he explained the giants to Brim.
She laughed out loud when he talked about the antics of Miah and her brothers. She listened with wide eyes as he described the warren and the healers’ tent. “Where do all the terrible stories come from if they aren’t true?” Brim wondered.
“From parents trying to scare their kids,” Rahkki guessed, and she smiled.
Rahkki rubbed his tired eyes. “If the clan had just talked with the hordes sooner, I think we could have come to terms. My mother always wanted to, but now I’ve ruined any chance of an alliance.”
Brim stood and collected their plates. “It was a misunderstanding, Rahkki.”
He shook his head. “There’s no excuse for what I did.”
She clucked and poured more tea. “I have some news that might cheer you up. Sula came to me after the battle. Much like you, she was injured and needed some attention. I stitched her back together and she stayed for a few days, and then she and her herd flew away.”
A wide grin cracked Rahkki’s face. His princess had escaped the Sunstone and his Flier was alive. “That’s good. Thank you! I hope the wild steeds fly far away from here.”
Brim smiled at that. “You’ve grown more than a pinch since I last saw you.”
“It’s the Gorlan soup,” Rahkki said, explaining his theory that it was special, that it healed and caused rapid growth. “I feel bigger and stronger.”
Brim agreed. “I think it probably saved your life. That many monsoon ant stings should have killed you.”
“So what now?” Rahkki asked, feeling replete after his meal.
“I’ll get the word out about the giants,” Brim said. “Perhaps the news will unite the clan—greater enemy and whatnot. The Fifth is in horrible shape. Harak Nightseer stripped the villagers of their weapons, the crops are underwater, and the few food stores that didn’t get soaked are diminishing quickly. If Queen Lilliam has any coin left in our treasury, she’s not spending it on food. The clan is hungry. Everyone’s hunting, but the rains are making that difficult. I’ve enough rice stored to last one moon cycle, and then I’m out. When do you think the giants will arrive?”
“They can’t be too far behind me. Maybe four or five days, maybe longer? I flew most of the way home.”
“Flew?”
He grinned. “A wild steed carried me.”
“You don’t say?” She clucked her tongue again, straightened, and glowered east. “The hordes might not eat animals or children, but they’re still giants, Rahkki. They won’t show mercy.”
“I know.” He stretched his arms, feeling exhausted.
Brim stroked his hair and Tak flew down from the rafters. He inserted himself between them and hummed, puffing white smoke. Brim chuckled and her bright-blue eyes met Rahkki’s. “Why don’t you and your dragon friend rest now?”
Rahkki touched her arm, a lump rising in his throat. Brim’s wrinkled face and hands, her kind eyes, and her singsong voice soothed him more than any of her medicines or teas. He hugged her tight. “Thank you for always helping me and Sula.”
“You’re welcome,” the old doctor said in her gentlest voice.
Rahkki’s eyes grew heavy and Brim made up a private bed in an empty stall for him. He trudged toward it and sank into the furs with Tak snuggling close. “This is all my fault.” Rahkki swept his hand over his head, indicating the magnitude of the Fifth Clan’s current troubles.
Brim pulled the blankets up to his chest. “No, Rahkki, you did your best to fix things.” She extinguished her oil lamp. “Any harm that comes from helping is fate, not failure.”
As sleep wrapped him in its arms, Rahkki’s thoughts swirled with images of angry giants. They won’t show mercy, Brim had said. Rahkki imagined the giants storming his clan’s territory, destroying the village, ripping down the Kihlari stable, and crushing the Sandwens. Their roars filled his ears as if they were in Brim’s hut.
He moaned, halfway between sleep and wakefulness. How could his people fight three hordes at once, especially when the Fifth Clan was divided and half their warriors were locked in the Eighth Tower? The answer was terrifying: they couldn’t.
20
Darthan’s Question
I’LENNA TIGHTENED HER RAIN CLOAK AROUND her body. After leaving Darthan’s hut, Brauk had led their group as long as he could before everyone noticed that his legs were too weak to handle trudging through dense underbrush.
“Will you please ride Kol?” Ossi had insisted, her face worried.
“No one else is riding,” he’d answered.
“You’re slowing us down,” Darthan said, and this had finally goaded Brauk into mounting his stallion. Now Kol twitched with pleasure at carrying his Rider. I’Lenna guessed he’d been pretty lonely cooped up in his stall after Brauk’s injury.
&nb
sp; They were on their way to free the rebels locked in the Eighth Tower. Thaan and Tully marched beside Feylah. Darthan and Tam took up the rear. And Ossi stayed close to Brauk, whispering with him. Mut strode beside a huge furry wild stallion, grinning from ear to ear. “This is a fine Kihlara,” he said, openly admiring the creature. “I’ve always wanted a big Flier like this.”
“We aren’t keeping these wild steeds,” I’Lenna said.
Mut frowned. “But I can’t afford to buy one,” he complained. “Most of my friends can’t either, so why not keep them? I’ll never have another chance to fly.”
Feylah interrupted. “That’s going to change when I’m queen.”
“What do you mean?” Brauk asked.
“I don’t think it’s right that Kihlari are so expensive. You shouldn’t have to be rich to fly.”
“Yes,” Mut cheered. “I like your thinking.”
Feylah’s golden eyes warmed. “I’m going to open a school. Riders will train for the right to Pair and if a Rider or Flier dies, they’ll have the chance to Pair again. It’s a waste to retire them when one dies.” She patted Drael’s bay neck and Brauk eyed her sharply. “Don’t you agree?” she asked.
Darthan cleared his throat. “I do,” he said, “but the clan is used to doing things a certain way. Change will take time.”
Feylah grinned. “We’ll see.”
I’Lenna listened to the conversation and tried to hide the fact that her entire body was shaking. The trembling had begun last night and she suspected she had a fever, but the clan’s and Rahkki’s future depended on freeing the rebels. She didn’t have time to be sick.
“Are you cold?” Tam asked her.
“I’m fine, just wet,” she answered quickly, and she followed as the group threaded between the palms. The rain pattered against the leaves, masking their footfalls.
“We’re parallel with the village,” Darthan said, halting. “Wait here while I visit my apprentice.” Darthan crept away to give his worker instructions to watch the rice farm.
The group settled beneath the broad foliage to wait, sheltering as best they could from the rain. The wild herd stretched their wings and grazed on wet plants. I’Lenna watched Darthan vanish into the mist, but before he’d gone too far, soldiers’ voices stopped him. “You there! Halt.”
Her heart thudded as she and the others exchanged worried glances. Darthan must have bumped into a patrol. “Don’t move,” Brauk mouthed. They were shrouded in darkness and hidden by brush, but close enough to the soldiers that a small cough or a snapping branch would give them all away. The wild herd seemed to sense the danger and they ceased grazing and went as still as the trees.
“What are you doing in the jungle?” a guard asked Darthan.
“Hunting,” he lied. “You know there isn’t enough food.”
There was a brief silence, an acknowledgment of that truth, I’Lenna guessed. Then the guard said, “It’s past curfew.”
“Curfew?” Darthan asked, surprised.
“Sunset to sunrise,” he answered. “General Nightseer announced it in the village this morning.”
I’Lenna fumed at the men calling Harak general. Her mother had appointed him after General Tsun died, and it annoyed her that Lilliam favored the blond Headwind beyond his actual worth and abilities.
“Some of the best hunting is at night,” Darthan returned, which was true.
“That’s the way it is though,” replied the guard.
“But why issue a curfew now?” Darthan pressed. “The people haven’t done anything wrong and the rebels are locked up.”
I’Lenna watched Brauk shake his head, silently scolding his uncle for questioning the soldiers.
“Orders are orders,” the patrolling guard answered, his tone bristling. “I don’t know why. The people are restless maybe.”
“They’re hungry,” Darthan muttered.
“Get back to your farm, Stormrunner,” the man said. “Or I’ll report you to the general.”
I’Lenna shifted her weight and almost fell over. Tam reached to steady her, and cold sweat began to trickle down her forehead. “I’m okay,” she mouthed.
“Will you pass a message to Harak?” Darthan asked, refusing to use his new title.
The patrolman huffed. “Fine, what is it?”
“Ask him who Lilliam burned on my sister’s funeral pyre, because it wasn’t Reyella.”
Stunned silence followed Darthan’s remark. In the jungle, Brauk’s eyes widened in shock. Feylah sucked in her breath.
“Are you suggesting that Lilliam isn’t our rightful queen?” the soldier whispered.
“Just ask him, will you?” Darthan said. “Tell him Darthan wants to know.”
The patrolling soldier sighed. “All right, but he’s not going to like that question. Now get back to your farm or stay in the village tonight.”
“I’ll stay in the village with friends. Thank you.”
“Have a good evening,” said the soldier.
I’Lenna listened as he and his patrol marched away. Darthan continued into the village to meet with his apprentice. The people and the Kihlari steeds relaxed and waited for what felt like forever—then Darthan doubled back and rejoined them.
“What was all that about?” Brauk hissed. “Harak already knows Reyella escaped that night. You’re just poking a snake, asking questions like that.”
The group had gathered around Darthan, who shook his head. “I don’t think he knows anything,” Darthan answered. “If Harak suspected that Lilliam was a false queen or that she was robbing the Fifth for her mother, I don’t think he’d be so keen to help her. I knew Harak when he was just a pup. He might be a snake, as you call him, but he believes in Clan Law and the chain of command. I don’t believe Lilliam has been honest with him.”
Darthan glanced toward the fortress. “If I’m right, my question will cause a rift between Harak and Lilliam. If I’m wrong, and he already knows my sister escaped that night, then he’ll understand we know it too. Either way, if we can seed doubt between Harak and Lilliam, their alliance will begin to unravel.”
Brauk’s jaw muscles fluttered as he considered this. “I see your point,” he said.
Darthan nodded and the group continued their hike south, approaching Fort Prowl and the prison tower.
21
The Eighth Tower
AS BRAUK RODE KOL THROUGH THE SOGGY DROOPING rain forest, Firo and Sula left the wild herd to walk beside I’Lenna. Firo nickered and fussed, as if sensing that I’Lenna didn’t feel well. I’Lenna wanted to ride the roan, but she didn’t want anyone to know how tired and sick she felt.
Sula pranced anxiously. Her silver coat appeared gray in the darkness and her eyes shimmered like wet stars. Her white mane lay flat and matted against her neck and her tail swished as she moved. The brand on her shoulder flexed with her muscles, a dark mark against her lighter coat. I’Lenna felt a surge of admiration. Sula had returned to help her Rider when she could have fled the Realm forever.
The group reached the stand of trees that bordered the south side of the fortress. The night was quiet. A few halfhearted soldiers lined the high fortress walls and guarded the gates. Thick clouds scudded across the pale moon overhead.
“Here it is,” I’Lenna said, pointing at a metal grid. Water gushed from the drainage ditch and flowed in rivulets down the hill.
Darthan assessed the tunnel. “It’s flooded. Is there another way inside?”
“All the lower tunnels will be flooded,” I’Lenna explained. “We’ll have to swim through.”
“What about the Kihlari?” Mut asked.
“Drael will wait for me,” Feylah said, turning him loose.
“So will Kol,” Brauk agreed. He dismounted but left the stallion’s saddlebags attached. He stroked Kol’s red muzzle. “Be back soon as I can.” The stallion shoved his head into Brauk’s chest and nickered.
“Tam and I can stay with the Kihlari,” Mut said. “If trouble comes, we can get at least K
ol, Drael, and the wild steeds out of here.”
Brauk nodded and turned to Darthan. “Where should we go if—no when—we break the rebels out of the tower?”
Darthan grimaced. “The Western Wilds,” he said.
“Gah!” Mut cried. “Black magna territory? Are you trying to get us killed?”
“It’s the best place to hide so many people.” Darthan’s expression said he was serious.
“You have to admit, no one will look for us there,” Tam agreed.
“The spiders hate rain,” Brauk added. “We should be okay.”
“What could go wrong?” Mut chided.
“You didn’t just say that!” Brauk moaned, plugging his ears.
“Say what?”
Ossi explained. “The second you ask what can go wrong, the world shows you.”
“Bah!” Mut huffed. “That’s a Rider’s superstition, like spitting every time someone says giant.”
The entire group leaned over and spit on the ground.
“See,” Mut said, gesturing. “Does spitting actually keep giants away? No. So like I said, what could go wrong with hiding out in black magna territory? Sounds perfectly safe to me.”
“You and Tam just wait here and keep your mouth shut,” Ossi said to her brother, rolling her eyes.
The rest of the group walked toward the fortress drainage grate. I’Lenna moved to unlock it and Feylah appeared beside her. “Show me how you do it,” she said.
Feylah was the true queen and I’Lenna knew she needed this knowledge. The tunnels had been engineered for the monarch’s escape, after all. “Of course,” I’Lenna said, nodding. With their backs turned to the group, I’Lenna slid out her blackstone necklace. “This acts as a key,” she explained quietly, and she pressed the stone against a worn spot on the hidden metal lock. It clicked and the rushing water pushed the grate opened.
Feylah studied the necklace. “It’s a magnet,” she whispered, frowning. “How obvious.”
“Not to our people,” I’Lenna said. “We don’t have magnets in the Realm.”
“Then who built these secret doors and tunnels?”
Riders of the Realm #3 Page 13
