Mirage (2 page)

She glanced at Dash and saw his eagerness fade, his jaw clench.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He stared straight ahead at Mirage, his brown eyes searching. “I do not know,” he said quietly. “Maybe nothing. But perhaps . . . everything.”

A
LUNA HAD EXPECTED
the gates of Mirage to be open and welcoming, had expected the sizzle of food and the laughter of Equians to greet them even before they set foot inside the city. Dash had promised them no less. Instead, Red Sky guards swarmed just inside the dome’s walls like a school of giant, hungry fish.

Aluna stepped toward the entrance, a massive archway built into the dome’s curved wall. A shimmering veil of energy filled the arch, separating the desert from the inside of the city. Dash had said that in times of danger, the gateway could be turned solid, sealing everyone inside an impenetrable barrier. Their enemies would be stranded outside in the desert, kilometers away from any other source of shade or water, slowly baking and dying of thirst in the sun.

A male guard noticed their approach. “Halt!” he called, drawing his sword. He had a curly brown beard and pale skin. A dirty bandage covered part of his sand-colored flank. Aluna could see blood seeping through it in dark lines. A fresh injury. “You will proceed through the checkpoint one at a time. Do not run. Do not reach for your weapons. Do not ask questions.”

Aluna glanced at Dash and saw his jaw tense. “It’s not supposed to work like this, is it?” she whispered.

He shook his head once.

“Maybe they’re already at war with Scorch and Karl Strand,” she said. “They’re smart to be cautious. For all they know, we’re enemy spies.”

“My people assume that everyone is out to get them,” Calli agreed. “It’s a good survival tactic.”

Hoku grunted. “I remember the Aviar prison cells with great fondness.”

Dash relaxed slightly. “Let us not keep them waiting, then. We will win their trust when the High Khan hears our tale.”

“I’ll go first,” Aluna said. She raised her hands and stepped forward, hoping her legs would stay strong with so many eyes on her. She spoke loudly. “Not touching my weapons. Not running. Not asking questions.”

When she was directly under the archway, the guard with the curly beard motioned her to stop. She forced herself to stand there as tiny beams of light crisscrossed her skin. It reminded her of the shark she and Hoku had found at the forbidden Seahorse Alpha outpost, the one that had scanned her with its green net and sent pictures back to Fathom.

A mechanical voice spoke: “Race: Kampii. Age: twelve to fifteen cycles. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: standard Kampii enhancements. Risk assessment: minimal.”

Aluna swallowed thickly. Not only did the tech know she was a Kampii. It also knew how old she was. It knew if she was sick. It knew about her fast-healing skin and thick bones and dark sight. Could it see her tail forming, too? Would it tell the others?

“Wait there,” Curly-Beard said, motioning to a spot beside him. Aluna jumped out of the scanner veil and took her place. Up close, she could see a dark bruise pillowed around the guard’s left eye.

Curly-Beard motioned to a female guard with a dusty black flank and red hair. She clomped over and he whispered to her, “Did you hear? A Kampii. She will want to know right away. Maybe we should go now.” His eyes darted to the bandage on his back.

“Shh,” the female guard said quietly. “Let the rest come through. We will do what she wants — what the High Khan wants, I mean. Do not worry. Your sister will be fine.”

Curly-Beard nodded, but he didn’t look happy.

Aluna pretended she hadn’t heard a word of it, but the hairs pricked at the back of her neck. Her fingers curled up and touched the weapons strapped to her wrists, two tiny talon chains wound tightly in their canisters, just waiting to be unleashed. But not yet. Not until they’d seen the khan and found some way to win him to their cause.

Curly-Beard looked up through the archway and called, “Next!”

Calli walked into the archway, and the tech voice called, “Race: Aviar. Age: twelve to fifteen cycles. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: standard Aviar enhancements. Risk assessment: minimal.”

Hoku followed. A ring of red lights blinked as the voice said, “Diseases: dormant type 6-F. Recommend immediate inoculation.”

Before Aluna could even move, a young Equian warrior cantered up to Hoku, grabbed his arm, and slapped a patch on the back of his hand. Hoku looked startled but unharmed.

“Disease 6-F? Is that bad?” Hoku said.

The lights around the entrance immediately turned green. “Dormant type 6-F neutralized. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: standard Kampii enhancements. Risk assessment: minimal.” Hoku joined the others in the waiting spot, still stunned.

“Was I going to die?” he asked Calli quietly.

“Disease 6-F,” Calli said, pretending to think. “Boils. I’m almost certain your death would have been slow and involved oozing boils.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I don’t have it anymore,” he said seriously, peeling the med-patch off his skin.

Dash came through last, his eyes down, his hands fisted. Aluna didn’t understand why he was so agitated until the tech voice called, “Race: Equian, failed. Herd: Shining Moon. Age: twelve to fifteen cycles. Diseases: no known strains. Biotech: partial Equian enhancements; mechanical forearm, left, origin unknown. Risk assessment: minimal.”

Equian, failed
.

The guards snickered and some said,
“Aldagha.”
The way they said the word made her want to punch each of them in the face. And then Dash was through. Aluna tried to catch his eye, but he continued to stare at the ground.

The female guard stepped forward. “Welcome to Mirage, glorious home of Red Sky herd, and seat of our most exalted High Khan Onggur, leader of the Equians.”

Aluna heard Curly-Beard mumble, “Which should be enough.”

The guard continued. “You are now prisoners of the High Khan —”

“Wait, what?” Dash interrupted. “Since when have visitors to Mirage been automatically taken prisoner? This is not our way!”

“Risk assessment minimal,” Hoku added. “You heard it yourselves!”

“Times change,” the female guard said to Dash. “And since when does an
aldagha
know what it means to be a real Equian?”

Aluna saw Dash’s fists tighten. She had to act fast, before blades were drawn. She stepped between Dash and the woman. “We’re here to see High Khan Onggur. If you’re planning to take us to him, then that’s fine. Call us whatever you want on the way.”

She let her hand drift to Dash’s forearm and squeezed. It was his mechanical arm, cool and unforgiving beneath her fingers, but she sensed him relax anyway.

The guard nodded to Curly-Beard. “Borte, take them to the High Khan. Do what you need to do.” She called out four other names, and soon guards surrounded them, their swords out. Curly-Beard — Borte — took the lead. His tail swished behind him, but he held his weapon in a firm grip.

“Do not attempt escape,” he said. “Do not give us a reason to hurt you.” He glared at Calli. “If you try to fly away, we will give the High Khan a cape made from your feathers.”

Calli crossed her arms and seemed to shrink. She tried to pull her wings tight to her back, but they were still wings — huge and conspicuous and impossible to ignore. Hoku stepped to her side, his eyes angry. He never carried a weapon, but he looked ready to attack Borte with the books in his satchel. Dash, on the other hand, seemed cool as stone, his face blank and without emotion.

“We won’t cause any trouble,” Aluna said, more to her friends than to Borte. At another time, Hoku, Calli, and Dash would have laughed that she was the one making that promise. Right now, nothing seemed funny.

“Wise Kampii,” Borte said. He turned and led them into the city.

Her view of Mirage was blocked by the five massive Equian bodies surrounding them, but she could tell the city bore little resemblance to the Mirage of Dash’s stories. Where were all the people? She’d expected vendors hawking their goods, stores brimming with jewelry and claywork, and musicians competing for tips. But the streets were empty. The only motion was the flutter of red-and-black banners in Mirage’s artificial breeze and an occasional face at a window, always quick to disappear when she noticed.

“What happened to the city?” Dash asked.

“No questions,” Borte answered, but Aluna saw the guard frown, saw his left foreleg stumble slightly.

The distant clanging of metal against metal got louder as they walked. Thick black smoke drifted through the streets like mist off the ocean. It stung Aluna’s eyes and made Calli cough.

And suddenly the tightly packed buildings gave way to a vast, open area filled with blacksmiths and weapon forgers, with skinners and bow makers and fletchers whittling arrows. Smoke billowed from forges and stained the nearby buildings with soot. Some Equians wore chains around their hooves. Some wore bandages on their backs and faces and legs. Everyone, even young Equians no older than a few years, hauled supplies or hammered metal or molded leather. Guards with drawn swords patrolled the work areas and barked orders.

Dash’s eyes widened, and his voice came out strangled. “This was once the Market of Ten Thousand Colors.”

“It’s the Market of Ten Thousand Blades now,” Borte said brusquely. “When we have met our quotas and when the desert is secure, the old market will be back. It is for the good of the herd. It is for the good of all Equians.” He spoke the last part as if he’d said it a million times before.

Dash pointed to a dusty stone structure sitting in the middle of the market. “The fountain. It has run dry.”

“It is the underground river that ran dry,” Borte said. “Almost two years ago. Water is now strictly rationed for all citizens.”

“Does the High Khan know that some of his people are in chains?” Aluna asked.

“Only those who will not willingly serve the herd are punished. And yes, he knows. Everything done in Mirage is by order of the High Khan,” Borte said. Then he added quietly, “Although he is not without his advisers.”

“Who?” Dash blurted out. “Who advised him to do this?”

Dash’s eagerness seemed to snap Borte out of his conspiratorial mood. His face returned to its hard lines. “It is for the good of the herd. It is for the good of all Equians.”

At the southern edge of the market, they stopped at the bottom of a wide ramp leading up to a massive open-air palace that overlooked the rest of the city. Gold and gemstones covered the building’s ornate pillars. At midday, it glinted like a second sun. Aluna couldn’t look away.

“The seat of the High Khan,” Borte announced with forced enthusiasm. The four other guards responded in perfect unison. “May the High Khan live and rule forever!”

“Tides’ teeth, could they have crammed any more sparklies onto that thing?” Hoku mumbled.

Calli lowered her eyes. “I know! There’s even gold inlay on the ground. Under our feet! Who needs to walk on gold?”

Dash frowned. “This building was not here before. Our people are practical. The desert demands it. High Khan Onggur is first and foremost one of his herd. I do not understand this . . . this
display
.”

But deep down in her gut, Aluna was starting to see the big picture, and it terrified her. They’d come here to warn the desert Equians about Karl Strand and his clone Scorch.

Maybe they were too late.

B
ORTE MADE THEM REMOVE
their head wraps before seeing the High Khan. Hoku didn’t mind. He had gotten used to the confining fabric, but missed running his fingers through his hair when he got nervous. No one wore head wraps inside the city. Mirage’s dome blocked out the harmful parts of the sun’s rays and left only the light. “There is no need to hide from her radiant glory,” Borte said. “Those who continue to wear head wraps are clearly hiding from something else.”

Hoku shoved his head wrap into his satchel, wishing for the millionth time that he hadn’t left Zorro back in the HydroTek dome. The Dome Meks had convinced him that Zorro’s mechanical raccoon body hadn’t been built for the desert, that the sand could damage his tech and break him forever. Hurting Zorro was not a risk Hoku was willing to take, despite how much he missed the furry little guy.