Mirage (11 page)

“We’ll go without him,” Aluna grumbled. A night without much sleep — no matter how magical — still left her prickly as an urchin.

Calli sighed. “I guess he doesn’t understand the burden of leadership.”

Aluna looked at her sharply. Calli taking her responsibility to the Aviars more seriously was one thing, but if she started spouting any more of Dantai khan-son’s wisdom, she and Calli were going to talk. Possibly with spears.

“Come,” Tayan said, stomping her hoof. “My father wishes to speak with you about the Thunder Trials.”

Dantai and Weaver Sokhor were waiting in the khan’s tent when they arrived. Aluna suffered through the bowing and nodding as best she could. Fortunately Khan Arasen seemed as tired of it all as she was. Maybe the Equians didn’t weather late nights as well as they seemed to.

“Enough formalities,” Arasen said. “Here is where Shining Moon stands.” He turned and paced in the tent. Dantai and Sokhor moved immediately to give him room. “If we go to the Thunder Trials, we must both turn you over to Scorch and pledge our loyalty to a war that will destroy everything we have built here in the desert — even if we win.”

“We do not know that life under Karl Strand would be so terrible, my khan,” Weaver Sokhor said, his voice raspy from the long night of stories. “He has promised us prosperity.”

“Prosperity at what cost?” Tayan said. “You did not see Mirage. It is no longer the bright star it once was.”

“Karl Strand’s clone Fathom turned off our breathing necklaces to drive us to the surface,” Aluna said. It still made her angry, even now. “He was willing to kill us all if we didn’t agree to be his slaves.”

Calli cleared her throat. Aluna turned to look at her, surprised she wanted to speak with so many people in the room. “My people have been fighting Karl Strand longer than any of yours,” she said quietly. “We would have chosen death before joining him.”

“My khan,” Weaver Sokhor said, “I am sure these children mean well, but what do they know of war? What do they know of the desert or our struggles?”

Khan Arasen stroked his small beard and continued to pace. “I do not need wetlanders to tell me what the issue is, Sokhor. It is a matter of honor. Which is better: to honorably follow our High Khan even though the path he takes us will lead to dishonor and the destruction of our very culture? Or to defend our ancient ways, break our oath to Onggur, and be slaughtered by Red Sky as traitors?”

“There’s another option,” Aluna said.

All eyes turned to her. The High Khan stopped pacing.

She shrugged. “If High Khan Onggur doesn’t win the Sun Disc at the Thunder Trials, then he won’t be the High Khan anymore. He won’t be able to lead anyone but his own people, and he’ll have to obey the new High Khan.”

Weaver Sokhor scoffed. “Child, you have never seen Onggur fight. He is impossible to defeat.”

Aluna ignored him and kept her eyes on Khan Arasen. “We win the Thunder Trials. Then everything changes.”

Dantai shook his head and made a sound like a whinny. “I could do it, Father. I’ve been training hard.”

Arasen turned to Aluna. His eyes seemed a little brighter. “Tayan gave her word that you would be at the Thunder Trials. She did that to save you, and I would give my own life rather than see my daughter break her promise.” Out of the corner of her eye, Aluna could see Tayan shifting on her feet. “However,” the khan said slowly, “your lives were not hers to give away.”

Aluna felt a dam break inside her chest; a pressure she didn’t know had built up suddenly released.

Arasen touched two fingers to his heart. “Therefore, I must ask. Will you, Aluna of the Kampii, and you, Calliope of the Aviars, agree to accompany us to the Thunder Trials of your own will? Not only will you preserve my daughter’s honor, but you will also undoubtedly save Shining Moon lives.”

“I came here to stop Scorch, and the best place to do that is at the Thunder Trials,” Aluna said. “I’ll come.”

Calli nodded. “May this mark the beginning of our future alliance.”

Khan Arasen relaxed and leaned back. Aluna glanced at Sokhor and saw a small smile on his face. Was he happy for his herd, or was there something more?

“Excellent,” the khan said. “I will be sure to ask your companion Hoku as well. Now, please excuse me. We must begin our planning for the Trials immediately.”

“I’d like to stay for that,” Aluna said. “I’m a fighter, too. And Hoku and Calli are smart. We want to help Shining Moon win.”

“Ridiculous,” Weaver Sokhor scoffed. “You are not Equians. You are not even of the desert! And you most assuredly are not Shining Moon.”

Tayan stomped a hoof. “But, Father —”

“No,” Arasen said, holding up a hand. “On this, I must agree completely with Weaver Sokhor. It is clear that we must win the Thunder Trials in order to save our people, and so we will . . . as Shining Moon. The purity of our herd is without question, and it is that purity that will bring us victory.”

The khan turned his back on them, his tail flicking so close that Aluna almost sneezed. Clearly the conversation was over. After everything they’d done, after everything they’d agreed to do . . . they still weren’t good enough.

Aluna’s breathing necklace pulsed rapidly at her throat. She needed to get away, far and fast, before she said or did something to ruin what little they’d accomplished today. She threw open the tent flap and stalked out. When Calli tried to join her, she waved the girl back.

She ran west, wishing for the speed and sense of freedom that swimming used to give her. Equians clopped their way through the settlement, either off to start their morning chores or stumbling back to their tents after the evening’s revelry. Aluna stared straight ahead and refused to look at any of them. How far from town would she have to get before she could scream without being heard?

She reached the edge of the settlement and kept going. With each step, she told herself she’d stop soon. Just a little farther. Sand slid into her shoes, but she was used to it now. Eventually her legs slowed to a walk. She forced herself to breathe deep and slow, tried to coax a little calm into her anger-tossed insides.

Hooves clomped through the sand behind her. Aluna sighed and wondered which Equian had been sent to retrieve her. But when she opened her eyes, she saw the horse Tal standing a few meters away, watching.

Aluna smiled. Suddenly the khan and Weaver Sokhor didn’t matter as much. Tal lowered her head and took a few steps closer.

“How come you never leave this place?” Aluna said. “Maybe you could find another herd or join up with a pack of wild horses, if there are any.” She took a few steps closer.

Tal shook her head and stomped her right front hoof in the sand.

“Don’t tell me,” Aluna said, remembering her conversation with Dash the night before. “You’re an Equian — a Shining Moon — and you always will be.”

The horse bobbed her head yes, then reared onto her hind legs and whinnied.

Aluna sighed. “If loyalty were water, this place would be an ocean.”

Tal dropped back to all four feet and trotted over to Aluna, all nervousness seemingly forgotten. Aluna ran her hand down Tal’s sweat-slicked neck and cursed herself for not finding a brush.

But Tal didn’t have grooming in mind. She knelt on one of her forelegs, used the other for balance, and huffed. The same position she’d used to help Aluna up when her legs were failing her.

Aluna’s breath fluttered in her throat. “Do you want me to . . . ? Can I really . . . ? You wouldn’t mind . . . ?”

Tal huffed again, then reached over and gently tugged on Aluna’s tunic with her huge teeth.

“Ride,” Aluna breathed. “You want me to ride.”

She dragged her hand along Tal’s coat, to the lump where her neck met her back. Withers, Dash had called it.

“I’m going to jump,” she said. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

Tal let go of her tunic and snickered.

“Oh, you’re laughing now. Wait until I’ve broken my neck.”

She put both her hands on Tal’s back and leaped. She’d intended to swing one leg over so that she straddled Tal’s back and could sit upright. Instead, she ended up landing on her stomach, bent over the horse’s back like a sack of sand.

“Not what I wanted,” Aluna muttered. Then again, when her legs were fused together into a tail, maybe this was how she’d have to do it. Find some way to ride with both her legs off to the side. But that was a problem for tomorrow. Today she had simpler goals. She struggled for a better grip so she could shift her leg into position. Tal chose that moment to stand up.

A second later, Aluna thudded to the ground. Miraculously she managed to land on her side instead of on her head. She spat sand out of her mouth and stared up at the horse.

“You’re not making this easy,” she said.

Tal reached down and tugged at her tunic again.

“Yeah, yeah,” She hopped to her feet and shook the sand from her hair. “Remember, this is a lot easier for you than it is for me.”

Three falls later, Tal managed to stay still long enough for Aluna to swing her legs into position. Tal’s bony back dug into her thighs, but she let out a whoop all the same.

“Tides’ teeth, it’s a whole new world up here!”

Tal took a step forward, and Aluna bobbed backward.

“Guess I’d better hold on.” She grabbed Tal’s mane just in time. The horse bolted into a canter. Aluna felt like she was floating on top of the waves, only with more fear of falling and a lot more pain on her backside. She clutched Tal’s sides with her legs.

Tal cantered in slow circles as Aluna adjusted her grip. Her body was already sore from bouncing against Tal’s back. She could feel the bruises forming through her light tunic and pants. But no amount of pain was going to stop her. Not today.

“Faster,” Aluna said. “As fast as you can go.”

One of Tal’s ears swiveled back to listen, and she nodded. Aluna could feel the muscles in the horse’s body bunching and extending.
So much power!
Tal gathered herself up and launched into a gallop.

Aluna tried to keep her grip, but was face-first in the sand within seconds. At least she’d managed to avoid the prickly cactus, which seemed to be watching with amusement half a meter away. She wiped the sand out of her mouth, shook the surprise from her head, and waited for Tal to circle back.

The next time she fell, she got sand up her nose. Ocean sand ended up everywhere, so she was used to the discomfort, but desert sand burned and stuck to anything wet. And since Aluna had been sweating all day, her face, hands, and neck were covered in the gritty yellow nuisance.

But Tal proved just as stubborn as Aluna and kept coming back for her after she fell. The horse didn’t even need to kneel after a while — Aluna managed to vault onto her back and scramble into place without help. Two more falls and Aluna managed to keep her seat when Tal broke into her gallop.

Air rushed past Aluna’s face, blowing the sticky sand away in sheets. She watched the golden landscape zooming by below Tal’s hooves and felt the same exhilaration she got underwater, when she hit open ocean and could swim as fast as she wanted.

“We can go anywhere,” Aluna said. “We can do anything!”

Tal whinnied and ran faster. Aluna laughed and tightened her grip. She loved the way the horse’s hooves thundered against the sand in perfect rhythm. Her chest felt light. Her heart sang. She wanted the feeling to last forever.

B
Y THE TIME
Aluna returned to the settlement, the Equian word-weavers were already at their fires, telling stories to the sunken sun. Aluna limped slowly, each step causing an explosion of pain through her thighs, backside, and ribs. Tal had simply trotted off toward the food troughs when they were done, no worse for their day of exercise. Aluna felt mushy and weak, like a lobster without its shell.

She lifted the tent flap with a groan. Somehow she’d managed to bruise her arms today, too. Not since the day High Senator Electra had taught her the basics of the Aviar spear had she so wished for a bottle of stinging jellyfish goo to ease the pain in her muscles.

“Aluna! Where have you been?” Calli said. “You look terrible. Is that cactus in your hair?”

“Food,” Aluna said, stumbling inside. “Wash.”

“I’d suggest grabbing some food first,” said Calli. “Hoku’s been taking all the best morsels for his teacher.”

“Food,” Aluna agreed.

“Have you met Rollin yet?” Calli asked. “I was nervous at first. I’ve never met a nice Upgrader. Er . . . and maybe I still haven’t. But Hoku likes her.”

Rollin. Aluna wasn’t ready to trust any Human willing to disfigure herself with tech, but she trusted Hoku. That was enough.

Aluna devoured two chunks of smoky meat, then stumbled to the washbasin and stared mournfully at the water. The idea of pulling off her clothes sounded excruciating. After a moment’s indecision, she picked up the cloth, wetted it, and covered her face with its cool bliss. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to dump the whole thing over her head, let the water race down her face in rivulets, trip over her lips, soak into her shirt.

But she couldn’t. Not here. Shining Moon had given them a whole basin of water, more than most Equians would see in a month. It was one of the greatest gifts they could bestow. If she wasted it, the Equians would think she was just another rude, ignorant wetlander.