Mirage (12 page)

As she did her best to wipe the grime from her face and hands, her thoughts began to clear. “What did you do today?” she asked Calli.

Calli appeared next to her as if she’d been waiting for a chance to spring. “I learned about the Thunder Trials. I have so much to tell you and Hoku.”

“No fair starting without me,” came Hoku’s voice from the front of the tent. “Well, at least you left me some food. I’m starving.”

“Save some for Aluna,” Calli yelled back, and scurried off to greet him.

Aluna smiled. Calli wasn’t the best warrior, but more and more, Aluna was grateful for her friendship.

“Is there a single centimeter of you that’s not dirty?” Calli asked.

“I think the inside of my elbow is okay,” Hoku replied. “Nope. Guess that’s pretty gross, too.”

“The Thunder Trials,” Aluna said loudly. “You were going to tell us about the Thunder Trials?” She joined the others in the main room and sat carefully, arranging the pillows and trying several positions until she found one that didn’t make her squeal from the pain. If she could sleep at all tonight, it would be on her stomach.

Then again, this was good pain. The kind she understood. The kind she had
earned
. Her brother Anadar used to say, “Pain scares your weakness away.” She’d pushed her body hard and would be stronger for it tomorrow. This feeling was nothing like what she felt from her growing tail. That pain came out of nowhere, confused her, left her feeling fragile instead of fierce. It didn’t scare the weakness away; it scared
her
.

Hoku, his sunburned face covered in dark smears, grinned and handed her a hunk of rabbit. “You’re moving a little slow tonight,” he said.

She glared at him halfheartedly and took the food. “Funny comment coming from a walking oil slick.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then filled it with rabbit instead.

Calli picked up a piece of fruit but didn’t eat it. “Well, you already know that the Thunder Trials are contests, and that the winners earn more birthing rights for their herds.”

Aluna nodded. “The faster, tougher herds grow larger, and the weaker herds die off. They’re just accelerating what happens in nature anyway.”

“Spoken like one of the faster, tougher people,” Hoku grumbled.

“Except the Thunder Trials aren’t only for warriors,” Calli said, popping the fruit into her mouth. It bulged in her cheek. “They’ve got competitions for tech, too! And for working with animals, cooking, and even word-weaving. There are three paths — Sun, Moon, and Sand. Sun is for one-on-one fighting, Moon is for artisan skills, and Sand is for other skills, like shooting and falconry.”

“Fiddling with tech makes me an artisan?” Hoku asked.

Aluna snorted. She grabbed a small bundle of cactus flowers from the food tray and bit off a petal.

“Shining Moon has traditionally done well at the Trials,” Calli continued. “Khan Arasen himself won the coveted Sun Disc in his youth, the one for fighting. He was High Khan for three years. But Onggur and the Red Sky always win that now. Shining Moon is known for their falcons and horses. They’ve won every year for decades, only . . .”

Calli scrunched up her face, gnawed on her lip, then started again. “Only their best falconers are gone. Erke and Gan. Two of Dash’s parents. Dantai didn’t want to say more, but I convinced him to tell me everything. He said that after Erke and Gan, Dash was the best falconer in the herd. Dantai isn’t sure they can win this year, not when they’re missing all three of them.”

“But why wouldn’t they have Dash?” Hoku said. “He’s right . . .
Oh
.”

Blood pounded in Aluna’s ears. Dantai wasn’t counting on Dash because he expected Dash to be dead. They all expected Dash to be dead.

“Maybe prisoners aren’t allowed to compete,” Hoku said.

Calli shook her head. “They’re going to judge him soon. As soon as everyone recovers from the celebration,” she said. “But the situation is more complicated that we thought. Not all the Equians here are happy that Arasen wants to defy the High Khan. Weaver Sokhor seems to have a lot of power, and . . . he hates Dash. I don’t know why, but he does. I don’t know what the khan will do, but I heard Tayan arguing with him.”

“I bet she wants Dash dead,” Aluna said. “Why else would she have brought him back here?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Calli said. “Tayan believes in herd law, maybe too much, but I don’t think she wants Dash to be hurt. She asked the khan to be lenient, to ignore Sokhor’s demand for his life. She didn’t want me to overhear, so I kept walking. But I heard enough.”

Aluna stared down at the green plant in her hands, her appetite suddenly gone. “She doesn’t want him to die, but she won’t go against her father.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Calli said. “Honor and tradition are powerful here.”

“Not everyone is as strong as you, Aluna,” Hoku said softly.

She didn’t feel strong right now. Not even a little. Riding all day had fed her spirit but destroyed her body. All she wanted to do was swim into her sticky bed back in her nest in the City of Shifting Tides. She wanted to forget she’d ever heard of Karl Strand or Scorch. She almost wanted to forget Dash.

No
. She didn’t mean that.

Later that night, when Hoku’s snores drifted over from the other side of the tent and echoed in Aluna’s ears, Calli’s voice emerged from the darkness.

“We’ll save him, you know,” she whispered. “After everything we’ve been through, I feel like you and Hoku and Dash are the only people in the whole world I can really count on. I can count on my mom, too, and Electra . . . but they’re so far away. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever see them again, you know? I miss the sky. Not the desert sky, all full of grit all the time, but the clear sharpness of the mountain air. The blueness. The white clouds. I feel like I came all this distance but part of me stayed behind. Is still back there soaring.”

Aluna stayed perfectly still. She barely breathed. She didn’t want to hear Calli’s confessions. They scared her. The darkness was a shield, a protective bubble. It made you feel safe to say things you’d never say in the bright of the sun. If she and Calli started talking, Aluna couldn’t trust herself to keep the secret about her growing tail. Telling someone — telling Calli — would make everything harder. Even so, she wanted to do it. She wanted someone to have her back, to cover for her, to
understand
.

No, the darkness was too dangerous.

“I guess you’re asleep,” Calli said with a sigh. “Good night, then. Sleep well. We’ll figure out how to save Dash. I promise.”

After Calli’s breathing had slowed, Aluna sat up and began inspecting her legs. She found two more patches of thick skin and a strange softness by her ankle. She wrapped her feet in bandages made from her old tunic and hid them under pillows.

A
FEW DAYS LATER
, Tayan burst into their tent just as Hoku was heading to Rollin’s for a day of lessons, arguments, and unexpected injuries. Aluna and Calli were on their feet in a flash.

“The trial is today,” Tayan said, her voice tight. “Dash has been taken to the khan. I am about to join them.”

“Tides’ teeth,” Hoku said. “So soon?”

“We’re coming with you,” Aluna said. Hoku could see waves crashing behind her eyes. “Dash asked me not to involve his family, but he didn’t make me promise not to go myself.”

Thankfully Tayan merely nodded.

“Wait. We need a plan,” Hoku said. “Some way to get through to Khan Arasen and Weaver Sokhor.” He hadn’t shown the story-song he’d been writing about Dash to the others yet. It wasn’t done, and it wasn’t very good. He’d thought he’d have more time.

“Hoku’s right,” Calli said. “We need to stay allies with Shining Moon. We can’t jeopardize our relationship with them. It’s not what Dash would want.”

“Wise words,” Tayan said. “Perhaps my father will be swayed by your restraint —”

“I’m done with restraint,” Aluna said. “This is Dash we’re talking about.
Dash
. I’m not going to bow and curtsy and play dutiful little visitor when his life is in their hands.”

She stalked toward the door. Hoku considered stopping her, but her eyes held an emotion he rarely saw on her face. They held
fear
. He touched her arm. “Come on,” he said softly. “We do this together. We do everything together.”

Aluna looked as if she might rip his arm off. Instead, she sighed. Hoku fell into place at her side, and the four of them headed to the khan’s tent. Two Equian guards with extremely sharp-looking spears blocked their entrance.

“Welcome, Tayan khan-daughter. You may, of course, enter,” the female warrior said. She frowned at the rest of them. “The khan warned me that the three of you might also seek an audience. You are to keep your words brief.”

Inside the tent, Shining Moon’s most powerful Equians stood in a great semicircle around the tent’s rim, looking as terrible and imposing as the Kampii Elders. Aluna’s father would have fit in perfectly. Hoku recognized Weaver Sokhor by his curling gray hair and sour expression. The man looked like he’d swallowed a stinkfish.

Dash stood in the center of the tent. His cheeks seemed sharper than Hoku remembered, his eyes brighter.

Strangely, Aluna ignored Dash. She stomped to the center of the tent and stood right next to Dash but never looked at him. Instead, she addressed the khan — and only the khan. Weaver Sokhor glowered even more.

“Khan Arasen,” Aluna said, “this is all my fault. I want to take full responsibility for Dashiyn’s breaking of his exile. There must be some herd law that lets me do that.” The Equians in the tent clomped their feet, shifted their weight, flicked their tails. Dash turned to Aluna, shocked, but she still wouldn’t look at him. She kept her gaze locked on the khan. “I convinced Dash to enter the desert because of my crusade against Scorch. He didn’t want to. He wanted to honor the terms of his exile.” She shrugged and gave a wry smile. “So you see? If anyone should be blamed for this, it’s me.”

“Preposterous!” Weaver Sokhor blurted out. He turned to the khan. “She should not even be allowed in this tent during judgment, let alone be permitted to speak such obvious fabrications.”

“Silence, Sokhor,” the khan said. “You made your argument already, and I have granted the wetlanders permission to speak.”

Sokhor clearly had more to say, but he swished his tail and settled for glaring at Aluna.

“May I speak, my khan?” Dash asked. It was the first time Hoku had heard his voice since the night of the celebration.

“You may not,” the khan replied.

Hoku watched Dash struggle with this answer. It was probably killing him that Aluna was trying to take punishment in his stead. But instead of arguing, Dash simply bowed his head and said nothing.

“Aluna of the Kampii, you would suffer the consequences of Dashiyn’s crime in his place?” There was something calculating behind the khan’s eyes, and it made Hoku nervous.

“Yes,” Aluna said clearly. “Dashiyn has done nothing but honor Shining Moon. He risked everything to come back here and warn your people about Scorch and Karl Strand.”

“And you?” the khan said to Calli. “What has Calliope of the Aviar, daughter of the bird khan, to say about this criminal?”

“Please, my khan,” Sokhor urged him, “end this nonsense now. These outsiders can have nothing to add to this matter of honor.”

Instead of yelling at the word-weaver again, Khan Arasen nodded. “Only one minute more, Sokhor.”

Sokhor nodded and backed off, clearly pleased. Hoku gripped the worn piece of paper in his pocket and wondered if he’d have the guts to read it when his turn came.

“Dashiyn has been nothing but brave and loyal,” Calli said. “He has gone out into the world and represented you well. Everyone who meets Dash soon learns to honor Shining Moon as well.”

Hoku gulped. Dash hadn’t actually told any of them about his herd until they were already a few days into the desert. But the khan didn’t need to know that.

“He’s more than brave,” Hoku blurted. If he waited for his turn, he might lose his nerve. “He’s a hero. I . . . I wrote a story-song about him. And me. And the battle at the HydroTek dome.” He could feel Aluna’s and Calli’s eyes on him, their shock and apprehension. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “It’s not very good,” he added. “I don’t know all the rules for Equian songs, and I only have two legs instead of four hooves, and I don’t have a very good singing voice, not even for a Kampii. But . . . it’s about Dash, and I’d like to share it, if that’s okay.”

Weaver Sokhor crossed his arms in front of his chest. The twisted smile on his face was anything but kind. “Oh, yes, my khan. Please, let us hear this boy’s attempt. Our own word-weavers study and train their whole lives before attempting to add to our legends. And yet this boy thinks he can live in the desert for a handful of days and understand our ways. I beg you, my khan — let us hear this offering.”

And suddenly Hoku’s plan seemed a lot more dangerous than he’d intended. He hadn’t realized that just the act of writing a story-song would insult the very Equians he was trying to reach.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t intend disrespect.” He crumpled his page of lyrics and started to shove it back in his pocket.