Mirage (13 page)

“Stop,” Khan Arasen said. “I would hear your song.”

Hoku blinked up at him, frozen.

Aluna nudged him in the arm. “I hope you’re as good with words as you are with tech,” she whispered.

I’m not
, he thought.
I’m not!
But it was too late. He swallowed thickly, cleared his throat, and began.

His hands shook by the end. His voice quavered, but he didn’t stop or apologize or ask to start over. And when he finished speaking the last line, the khan’s tent fell silent.

Until Weaver Sokhor snorted.

Hoku’s face burned. He stared at the faded rug beneath his feet.

“His rhythms were completely off,” Sokhor said. “No sense of power. Multiple language mistakes. I found the use of Dashiyn’s nickname an insult to our heritage. And —”

“Enough,” Khan Arasen said. He looked angry enough to strangle a shark. Hoku pitied that shark. “I have heard all I need to hear,” the khan said. He directed his remark not to Hoku but to Weaver Sokhor. “I am ready to decide the fate of Dashiyn.”

Hoku looked at Aluna, but her face was blank. Almost empty. She stared at the khan, waiting, her hands thankfully devoid of weapons. He felt a tug on his arm and breathed deeply as Calli edged closer to him. He was grateful for her touch. She always seemed to know when he needed it most.

Khan Arasen stepped forward into the circle. “Almost two years ago, our beloved blood-brother Dashiyn betrayed us. Not only did he release a prisoner against our wishes and give him valuable medical supplies needed by the herd, but he also cost us birthing rights. If Shining Moon had found the Serpenti stronghold, we would now be in a position of far greater strength. Strength that we need to combat Red Sky and Scorch, and to take the Thunder Trials.”

Barnacles
. This did not seem like a promising start.

The khan continued. “Because Dashiyn and his family have, in the past, brought honor to Shining Moon, the normal penalty of death was waived. In an act of mercy, Dashiyn was exiled and forbidden to return to the desert.”

Hoku glanced over at Weaver Sokhor and saw a self-satisfied smile. He had no idea why Sokhor seemed to hate Dash so much, but there was clearly no mercy left in that man’s heart.

“The arguments in favor of Dashiyn are strong,” Khan Arasen said, and Hoku’s heart fluttered with hope. “We are particularly moved by our Kampii visitors. Aluna, you do your own herd honor by claiming responsibility for the failure of one of our own.”

Aluna’s hands bunched into fists for a moment, then opened again.

“Hoku,” the khan said, “while you are clearly no word-weaver, your willingness to respect our ways also honors your herd. If your subject were not a symbol of shame to us, no doubt your story would find a home around our fires.”

Hoku nodded, his face once again hot from the attention. He hadn’t embarrassed them or made things worse. That wasn’t much of a victory, but was more than he’d been expecting.

The khan paused, as if he were collecting his thoughts. His face remained unreadable, smooth as sand at low tide. “Unfortunately, we have already stayed our hand once, and we cannot afford to stay it again.”

Time seemed to slow. Hoku could hear his heart in his ears, along with Aluna’s now-ragged breathing.

Khan Arasen turned to Dash. “Dashiyn, once beloved son of Shining Moon, you are hereby condemned to sundeath.”

T
HE ROOM ERUPTED
. All the Equians started talking at once, and Hoku heard Calli’s voice behind him, “No, no, no.” But he knew his job. He reached for Aluna’s arm just as she was releasing her talons.

“Aluna, we’ll die,” he said. “Do this now, and we’ll
all
die.”

She shrugged him off and took a step forward. She would have kept going, straight at the khan, if Dash himself hadn’t barred her way. The horse-boy put both his hands on Aluna’s shoulders and looked her straight in the face.

“Stop,” he said. Dash never raised his voice, not even now. “If you care for me at all, Aluna, please stop. This is not what I want. You are not helping me.”

Hoku expected Aluna to brush his arms out of the way, scream her defiance, and launch herself at Khan Arasen. A few months ago, she’d done almost exactly that when they’d met Calli’s mother, the president of the Aviars.

But instead, Aluna stopped. Her arms fell to her sides, and the anger in her face drained away. Just like that.

Dash smiled. “Thank you.”

Two Equians grabbed Dash’s arms and pulled them roughly behind his back. The smile stayed on his face as they marched him out of the tent and toward his terrible fate.

Hoku reached for Aluna. She stood there numbly as he pulled her into a hug. Calli stood at his side, murmuring. “It’s not over. There’s still time. Maybe I can fly him away —”

Tayan left the khan’s side and joined them.

“You get your wish,” Aluna hissed. “You wanted him dead all along.”

“Go,” Tayan said, ignoring Aluna and speaking directly to Hoku. “I have a plan. I’ll find you later.”

“What plan —?” he started to ask, but she had already clomped away to whisper in her father’s ear. The khan nodded once. Tayan touched her fingers to her heart, then disappeared out of the tent.

“Let’s go,” Hoku said. “There’s nothing more for us here.” He turned, pulling Aluna with him. She wore a deep scowl on her face, the one she always got when she was trying to be angry instead of sad. “Calli’s right,” he said. “This isn’t over yet.”

Back in their tent, Hoku paced, trying to make time go faster with his mind. Aluna sat by a tray of food and water, but didn’t touch any of it. “Does anyone know what sundeath is?” he asked. He didn’t really want to know the answer, but he knew it could be important.

“I do,” Calli said. “It’s . . . not good. They take the Equian out into the desert. Sometimes days out. And then they leave him without food or water or a head wrap. It’s part death penalty, part sacrifice to the sun.” She shook her head. “It’s a miserable way to die, but they think it’s honorable.”

He’d expected Aluna to say something, but she only stared at her hands. Hoku tried to imagine wandering over the hot sands without water or protection from the sun. He licked his lips and fingered the canteen hooked to his belt. If that’s how the Equians honored their own, he never wanted to see what they did to their enemies. Did Rollin have any devices that might help Dash survive? And if she did, how could he possibly get them to Dash without his captors seeing?

The tent flap swished open, and Tayan slipped inside.

“Good. All of you are here. I do not have much time.” She paused, listening to noise outside the tent, then relaxed slightly. “We are not taking Dashiyn to the desert until tonight. That is part of the ritual. He must be out in the desert when the sun rises. The longer he lasts, the greater the honor he pays to the sun.”

Aluna spat. “Sounds like a convenient excuse to keep him from seeing landmarks when you drag him out there. It’ll be too dark for him to tell which way you’re taking him. He won’t even have the sun to gauge which direction you’ve headed.”

“The situation here is more tenuous than it seems,” Tayan said. “Weaver Sokhor has many allies. If my father had not condemned Dashiyn to death, Sokhor would have used that as a sign of weakness and usurped him as khan. And believe me, that is not something any reasonable person would want.”

“I don’t care which one of you is in charge,” Aluna growled. “Using Dash’s life as if it were part of some game — that’s just wrong.”

Tayan nodded. “I agree, Aluna. I actually agree with you on a large number of things, if you would only deign to listen.”

“Tell us how we’re going to save Dash, and I’ll listen to whatever you want,” Aluna said.

Tayan sighed. She motioned them closer and then spoke quietly: “My father knew he had to sentence Dashiyn to death, at least publicly. But he chose sundeath so Dashiyn would not be killed immediately. I will ride with the party that escorts him to the desert. I will see the direction we ride and find some way to tell you. You will follow and rescue Dashiyn when we leave.”

“How will you tell us?” Calli asked.

Tayan’s tail swished. “I have not determined that part yet.”

“And how are we supposed to follow?” Calli asked. “I can’t fly that far into the desert, especially at night, and Aluna and Hoku can only walk. We’ll never get to Dash in time.”

“You must steal four of our horses,” Tayan said quietly. “I will choose them for you, and Dantai will see that you have access to the gate. We will give you provisions, but you will never be able to come back.”

“No,” Aluna said. “We need to defeat Karl Strand, and for that we need to stay allies. Besides, if we don’t show up at the Thunder Trials, Scorch will kill one of your people for every one of Calli’s feathers. You heard her say it, and we both know she’d follow through on the threat.” She shook her head. “No, there’s a better way. I can follow without stealing a horse. I can ride Tal.”

“Tal!” Tayan snorted. “She will never let you near her.”

“Who’s Tal?” Hoku asked. But even as the words were forming in his mouth, he knew. “That outcast horse. Is that where you’ve been the last few days?”

“She’s not an outcast, at least not on purpose,” Aluna said. She lifted her chin, daring anyone to argue with her. “She’s my friend, and we can go after Dash. She’ll be able to carry me, plus Dash when I find him.”

Tayan shook her head. “Tal is unpredictable, possibly damaged mentally. You have been here a week, and you think you can ride her? No. You will never make it.”

“Yes, I will,” Aluna said. “I’m not a good rider, but Tal is smart. She’ll make up for me. I trust her.”

“I could fly with you,” Calli said. “I might be able to spot Dash from a distance.”

“No,” Hoku said. “Aluna wants to leave us behind. Again.”