Heir to the Sky (13 page)

So I clarify, because I also don't want her to think I'm leading Griffin on. “It's an arranged match,” I explain. “I've only met him a couple times. I... I'm obligated.”

“Arranged? Obligated?” She purses her lips, her gold earrings swaying against her neck as she frowns. “Who are you, exactly, back on your floating mountain?”

“I...” It's no secret, but I've never explained to them who I am. And suddenly I don't want to tell her. They seem to hate the people on the continents, but I'm not sure why. And I have grown so attached to the three of them, so quickly. I don't want them to think less of me.

Aliyah nods after a minute, allowing me my privacy. Gratefulness floods the guilty flame that flickers in my chest. “If you're promised to another, then you should find a way to let Griffin know, before it grows into something else.”

“I don't think he feels that way,” I say. We've only known each other for about a week and a half now. Aliyah merely smiles. But she's planted the thought in my head and it's sprouting, and when I think about how Griffin smiles warmly at me, I feel the heat creep up my neck.

Then I shake the thought away. He saved my life, and the experiences we've been through fighting the chimera and the hazu and the Dream Catcher would tie anyone together. That's the source of the closeness I feel. It's a bond of gratefulness and shared survival, nothing more.

Aliyah's voice is low, almost beyond hearing. “Can you climb?”

It's a strange response to my answer. “Are we done practice with the spear?” I ask. But Aliyah doesn't laugh; in fact, she doesn't move her eyes from the underbrush.

Something's wrong. I start to turn, to look over my shoulder into the grass.

“Stop,” she says sharply. The wood around us buzzes with insects and birds. I can't hear anything, but I stop, adrenaline rushing through me. “Listen carefully, all right? There's a pack of karus, and we won't make it back to the trapdoor in time.” Karus, like the fur cloak Griffin wears. “Do your ribs hurt too much to climb?” I take a deep breath, the pain shooting through my chest. She sees the look on my face. “Then stay close to me.” She slowly reaches for the curved bone dagger at her waist. “Practice is over.”

THIRTEEN

I GRIP THE
spear tightly, my hands trembling. I don't yet know how to wield it. Aliyah bends her legs, her wide stance low to the ground. “Come stand behind me,” she says. “Slowly.” I move around her as gradually as I can. It reminds me of the dancing we do in Ulan, and I can hardly believe this is real.

Then I realize where she's staring into the woods.

“Griffin,” I whisper urgently. He's in there, gathering my arrows.

“He can handle himself,” she says.

And suddenly, like the flap of the Phoenix's wings, chaos blazes everywhere. The karu breaks free of the trees with a large crash and a howl. His mottled cream fur looks just like Griffin's cloak, the long fangs part of his terrifying snarl. I swipe the spear down in front of me as a defense, but the karu charges at Aliyah beside me. In a blur she moves with the karu. He leaps into the air for her windpipe, and she ducks under him, thrusting hard with the crescent of bone. The squelch of weapon meeting flesh fills my ears as he arcs over her bent frame. She rolls to the side as he hits the ground hard and comes up again, all fangs and blood and fur.

I hold Aliyah's spear tightly, the behemoth fang pointed right at the monster. But Aliyah doesn't need help. She moves like Griffin, all speed and precision and skill. Her earrings and armlet catch the sun as she tangles with the karu. She doesn't need my help.

“Get to the trapdoor,” she shouts above the monster's snarling.

I hesitate for just a moment, wanting to help. But then I remember how my help ended in Griffin getting slashed by the hazu, and I turn to race toward the haven's entrance.

My skirts scrape against the underbrush and ferns as I hurry through the forest. The staff feels reassuringly heavy in my hands. It won't snap like the flint one I made for myself. It's sturdy and skillfully made. But I don't know how to wield it.

And then a figure leaps out in front of me, and I stop running.

It's like the karu, but a little smaller. It's certainly a dog, its fangs curved like the karu but not as pronounced. The fur is soft brown, striped with vibrant black bands that run up and down its body. Its mouth is all teeth, its back legs tensed as it growls.

“Easy,” I say, lowering my staff to put the massive fang between us. “Easy now.”

It barks, snapping its teeth at the bone crescent which I pull back in time. Should I run to Aliyah? But I can't turn my back on this thing.

Then I spot something beige moving in the trees above. Griffin's here, but the monster hasn't noticed. He's moving silently, preparing to drop on the creature. I force myself to look ahead, to not look up and give him away.

The monster growls and steps forward.

“Just keep looking here,” I say, backing up slowly. “That's right. A tasty, easy meal right here. Hungry? Here, boy.”

The monster leaps, and Griffin drops from the trees onto its back. It howls and arches up, and the two tangle in a blur.

I thrust the spear forward, to drive it through the monster while his attention is divided.

“Kali, no!” Griffin shouts, but I'm already lunging forward, my weight shifted to my front leg.

I feel a sharp pain in my back leg as the spear clatters out of my hands. I hit the leafy ground a moment later, a headache ripping through my temple. The world is snarls and fur and the behemoth fang is gone.

There's a second striped wolf monster on me. He lunges to bite me, and suddenly Griffin is on his knees beside me, his arms wrapped tightly around the monster's neck. He holds the beast away as its jaws snap over and over, just in front of my face.

Griffin's row of daggers glints at his waist.

I reach for a dagger and pull it free, and thrust it as hard as I can into the monster's neck. There's a horrible gasping sound, and the monster's eyes go glassy. It collapses on top of me, and I cry out, the weight painful against my cracked ribs.

Griffin rolls the beast off me and onto the ground with a thud. Just then Aliyah runs out of the trees, and Sayra pops up from the trapdoor nearby, a bow in her hand.

“Is she all right?” Aliyah shouts, stooping down beside me. Griffin nods, panting as the sweat drips off his forehead.

“Karus?” Sayra asks.

“Three of them,” Aliyah answers, looking at the teeth marks around my ankle. “Not too deep, Kali, but we'll have to clean it to stop infection.” She looks at Sayra. “Any scarlet honey left?”

Sayra nods. “I'll get it.”

“I'm sorry,” Griffin says. “There was no time.”

“It's okay,” I say. “You warned me. And you saved me.” I gaze at the two dead monsters; they look as if they'll suddenly come back to life, ready to bite. “What are those?”

“Karus,” Aliyah says. “The adolescents are striped to better camouflage them. Their fur changes to cream when they're older to draw the eye.”

“That way you don't see the rest of the pack sneaking up on you,” Griffin adds. “Quick thinking to grab my dagger.” He pulls it out of the beast, cleaning it against a fern leaf.

“You did that?” Aliyah says.

“I...I guess I did,” I say.

She smiles and ruffles my hair. “Congratulations,” she says. “You defeated your first monster.” She tucks her curved dagger into the strap at her waist and disappears into the forest.

I don't feel proud, not at all. I feel horrible and vulnerable.

Griffin nods, even though I haven't said anything. “It gets easier,” he says, his eyes kind as they look into mine. “We do what we have to so we can survive.” He pulls me to my feet, and toward the trapdoor, where Sayra has appeared with a jar of honey to pour on the wound.

“We do what we have to,” I repeat, looking at the dead monsters at our feet. Aliyah reappears, the massive cream-colored karu draped over her shoulders. It must weigh a hundred pounds; I can't believe she can carry it.
We do what we have to so we can survive.

Griffin nods. “It's what makes us human,” he says.

* * *

That afternoon, Aliyah teaches me how to skin a karu. She uses the same curved bone dagger, showing how to carefully remove the fur in one piece. It's a slow process, and I gag a few times, but she smiles patiently, never teasing me.

She shows me how to take sinew from the monster's tendons for string, and how to stretch the fur over a frame to dry it. She removes its bladder and throws it to Sayra, who turns it into a water flask with a strap of scrap leather. It's amazing to me, the amount of survival knowledge these three have. At night, by the light of the oil lamp, Aliyah carves one of the karu fangs into a tiny sculpture of a goat. It reminds me of the pygmy goats in the village. We have so much in common, I think, and also nothing at all.

A week passes, and my ribs start to ache less. Aliyah and Griffin help me practice archery, spear-wielding and dagger-throwing. Griffin is healing, too, the gash across his back fading into a pale scar. “We can go to the mountains soon,” he promises.

One day, after dinner, we sit on the benches around the table joking and laughing. Sayra walks to a corner of the room and grabs a bundle of leather and fur. She places it in front of me while Griffin and Aliyah beam.

“What's this?” I ask. Griffin's eyes are gleaming as I take the bundle apart. There are new leather boots, soft and laced like Aliyah's. There's the karu fur, fashioned into a cloak, and a leather sheath decorated with tiny pieces of karu bone; it holds a medium-sized dagger.

“For the journey to the mountains,” Aliyah says.

My eyes fill with grateful tears that I blink back. “But you can't afford to share this with me. You have so little of your own.”

“Says who?” Aliyah booms, reaching her long arms out to the sides. “I have a whole world to borrow from. You helped us slay the karus, Kali. You've earned these. And I'll visit the weapon smith in the lava lands when I want a new dagger.”

I pull the dagger from the sheath. The blade is metal, not bone, and well-worn with scratches and pockmarks. It has a gleaming garnet set in the hilt that sparkles red and orange like a flame. It shimmers under the glow streaming in the skylight, but I know in the daylight it will blaze like the fire of the Phoenix herself.

“Thank you,” I say, though it's not enough. “Thank you for this beautiful reminder that the Phoenix will rise anew.” They look puzzled, and then I remember they know nothing of the Rending. “I'm so grateful for your gifts, and your friendship,” I say, trying again. “I wish there was something I could give you.”

Then I remember the one thing I have in this world, the one thing I brought with me when I fell.

I untie the lantern from my side and place it on the table. It's damaged and worn, not anything like their beautiful gifts, but it's all I have to give. “When you light this lantern, will you think of me?” I say. “The stars and the Phoenix plumes will remind you of Ashra, the floating continent I come from.”

“We will treasure it.” Aliyah smiles.

I've known them only a few weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. “Please,” I try again. “Come with us to the mountain range. You'll be safe in Ashra.”

Griffin frowns, lifting a hand. “Kali...”

“No, please, listen,” I interrupt. “I'm not sure why you distrust us on the floating continents, but I can promise you we are good people. Food and land is shared. We are safe and protected. There are still forests to wander, and all kinds of trades to learn. Aliyah, you could craft your own weapons like your behemoth staff. And your carvings! I'm sure they would be so popular. Sayra would love to cook with Elisha in Ulan. There's opportunity for all of you.”

“I'm sorry, Kali,” Aliyah says quietly. “But we can't.”

It's the most exasperating conversation I've ever had. I'm giving them an escape from the monsters, and they won't take it. “But why?”

“Because of the massacre,” Sayra snaps.

Massacre? I sit there with my mouth open, confused. Griffin sighs and rests his head in his hands.

“Sayra,” Aliyah warns.

“It isn't fair to her if she doesn't know,” Sayra protests.

“Know what?” I ask.

Griffin shoots Sayra a warning glance. “Nothing.”

But Aliyah says, “Kali, this will be difficult to hear, but remember that we are your friends, and that the other fallen have come to terms with this truth.”

My blood is pulsing, my heart racing. I think back to the conversation I stumbled upon between the lieutenant and Aban. I know these things are linked. I know it. Something wasn't right, but I'm frightened to hear it. “Tell me,” I say. “Please.”

Aliyah takes a deep breath and nods, her earrings tinkling like my headdress back on Ashra. “Kali,” she tells me. “There was no Phoenix.”