Mirage (29 page)

L
ATER THAT NIGHT
, Aluna curled up on her bedding in the dark of Calli’s tent. Groups of Equians sang and partied outside around their bonfires, but she had no desire to join in the festivities. Tomorrow she would face High Khan Onggur in one-on-one combat in front of everyone. Tomorrow the desert — and the war — would be lost or won. Her stomach clenched, and the muscles in her shoulders refused to relax. She told her teeth to stop grinding together, but a moment later, they were at it again.

“It must be terrifying, facing all those people in battle.” Calli’s voice wafted over in the darkness. “I can’t remember anything when someone attacks me. Even in sparring. It’s like all the training flies out my ears.”

Aluna clung to Calli’s kindness. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her. Words started spilling out of Aluna’s mouth. She talked about each of her fights. What it felt like when the blows landed. What it felt like to feel the thud of her spear against her opponent’s armor. The way Tal’s spirited whinnies gave her energy even when she was tired. Calli listened to it all without once interrupting.

“I don’t understand why Scorch didn’t win in the other ring,” Calli said. “She could probably have defeated High Khan Onggur.”

“Tayan said that only people loyal to Onggur were in his ring. None of them would risk truly hurting him. Not even Scorch. She came in second, though.” Aluna thought about Scorch and her cruel eyes and her face with Karl Strand’s smile. “Scorch is smart. She’s better off controlling the Equian in charge of the desert instead of trying to control it herself.”

Calli grunted. “Is it weird that I miss Fathom? He was horrible and grotesque, but at least he was predictable and kind of dumb.”

Aluna smiled in the darkness. “I’d rather face him than Scorch any day.” And then, because she needed to tell somebody, she told Calli about Tayan, and what Tayan had asked her to do.

“Outrageous! Despicable!” Calli said when she was done.

“I don’t think we should tell the others,” Aluna said quickly. “It’s over, and I don’t want them to think less of Tayan. She’s our khan now. We’ve all done stupid things, me included. I should have told you all about my tail as soon as the battle at HydroTek was over. If you can forgive me, maybe we should forgive Tayan. She’s sacrificed a lot for Flame Heart, to give us a chance against Scorch. Maybe she deserves another chance, too.”

“Tayan was wrong to ask that of you,” Calli said. “My mother would never have done such a thing.”

“No, your mother just captured me and forced me to be your friend,” Aluna said with a laugh.

“I see your point,” Calli said. “I guess honor means something different to everyone.”

Aluna reached over and found Calli’s hand in the darkness. “I’m glad your mother did it,” she said. “I’m glad you’re in my life.” She knew what Calli wanted to hear, and for once, she felt comfortable saying it. “You’re like a sister to me.”

Calli squeezed Aluna’s hand, her grip still weak. “I couldn’t imagine a better one.”

Aluna held on to Calli’s hand. She felt tears pooling in her eyes. Calli made her feel safe. Safe enough to be scared. “I’m afraid,” she said quietly. “Afraid of losing. Afraid of dying. Afraid of letting everyone down, including myself.”

“Only the stupid don’t feel fear,” Calli said quietly. “It’s the heroes that keep going anyway.”

Aluna stood with her herd in the great arena at high sun on the third day while High Khan Onggur prepared to announce the winners of the Path of Moon and Path of Sand competitions. Aluna watched Tayan move amid the Flame Heart herd, putting a hand on a Serpenti’s shoulder, offering a word of encouragement to Calli. They hadn’t spoken since their argument yesterday, and Aluna half expected Tayan to publicly humiliate her for daring to disobey her khan.

Tayan’s path brought her closer and closer until Tal started stomping her hooves and huffing.

“I know,” Aluna whispered. “I want to bite her, too.”

Tayan walked calmly toward Aluna, her gaze focused on High Khan Onggur in the distance. When they were side by side, Tayan nodded. “Aluna.”

Aluna tried to be civil, but her words came out bitter. “My khan.” Tayan’s eyelids closed for a moment, but Aluna couldn’t tell if the Equian was suppressing her growing rage or was simply bone-tired. Either way, Aluna wasn’t done. “Do you have another favor to request?” she asked. “Would you like me to fall on my sword in the fight tonight, or perhaps trip over a rock and sprain my ankle before the match even begins? I’m sure your father would be happy to replace me.”

Tayan shuffled her hooves in the sand. Aluna watched color creep into her cheeks. “You . . . fought well yesterday,” she said slowly. “You made my father look like a yearling.”

“Is that what this is about?” Aluna said. “That I embarrassed you and your father? Because if it is, then —”

“Can you not hold your tongue for one moment? I am trying to apologize!” Tayan’s tail snapped back and forth like a whip. She closed her eyes again and whispered something Aluna couldn’t hear. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in control. “Aluna of the Kampii and of Flame Heart, what I asked of you was wrong, and I am sorry.” She touched fingers to her heart, bowed stiffly, and fled back into the herd without waiting for a reply.

When she was gone, Tal whinnied softly and shifted her weight. Aluna shook her head, stunned. A common Equian phrase popped into her head. “Some days the sun chooses to rise in the west.”

Flame Heart cheered for Dash when he won top honors for falconry. Apparently he and his falcon, Odu — a gift from herd Fire Tail — had caught twice the number of rabbits and snakes as the next closest competitor. Aluna clapped him on the back and shouted his name along with the rest of the herd. His face flushed slightly under his dark skin.

“It was all Odu,” he told her. “She is the true hunter. I was only her transport.”

“Of course,” Aluna said with a grin. “The bird should get all the credit.”

A Serpenti named Ramla took the top award in archery, and for a few brief moments, Aluna thought the Bronze Disc of the Sand might be theirs. Then Red Sky took the awards for strength, agility, and sword, and Flame Heart’s chances ended. A Swift Wind won for speed, a Cloud Hoof for spear, and the Bronze Disc was awarded to Red Sky. If they had not changed the competitions to favor people with four hooves, it might have ended differently.

Dash and Ramla went to the award platform, joy absent from their faces. Aluna wanted them to be proud of what they’d done. They’d beaten the other Equians despite being hated and feared. Despite being outsiders. When High Khan Onggur placed the glinting bronze sashes over their shoulders, Aluna cheered until her voice cracked.

As the High Khan began to announce the winners of the Path of Moon, he stopped in the middle of his sentence and seemed to waver. For a flash, she thought he might actually topple over completely. Two Red Sky appeared at his side, and soon he was gone, taken away from all the eyes. The Equian in charge of the Path of Moon stepped forward and began speaking as if nothing had happened.

Aluna looked for Scorch on the pavilion but couldn’t find her. Not a good sign. It was always better to watch the shark circling than to find its jaws suddenly clamped on your tail.

Tayan did not win the word-weaving competition, although she came in an honorable fifth. At least Weaver Sokhor had never showed up to claim the victory for himself. Nathif came in second in the textile competition with his Flame Heart banner, and the Serpenti Fenyang actually won the cooking trial with his Hearty Desert Stew.

“Mushrooms,” Nathif whispered to Aluna. “His secret weapon. Apparently the Equians had never even seen them before.”

The tech awards were next. Aluna made her way to where Calli and Rollin were standing. Hoku was still in his tent, still working furiously on his shield. He hadn’t slept all night. Aluna held her breath as the results were announced. Rollin came in third with her cooling device — a shock to everyone, including her. She shrugged, grunted, and muttered, “Silly four-feets.” The Equian from Cloud Hoof with the insect repellent came in second. Aluna was still watching him rear up on his hind legs and cheer when the winner’s name was called.

Cheers erupted all around her, and suddenly everyone was crowded around Calli, trying to pat her back despite the two giant wings constantly getting in the way.

“Calli?” Aluna said. “Tides’ teeth, Calli!” She threw herself into the mix and caught a glimpse of the girl’s grinning, sun-reddened face.

“Not surprising,” Rollin said. “That bow makes good archers out of imbeciles. Got lots of those in the desert.”

“I wish Hoku were here,” Calli said. “He said it would never win with such a simple name.”

“Luckily not everyone is as fixated on naming their tech,” Aluna said, and laughed.

Aluna tried to be happy for Calli, but even with her surprise victory, the Silver Disc had gone to Cloud Hoof, who managed to take word-weaving, textiles, and a strange performance art — involving twin swords, stomping around in a specific pattern, and yelling battle cries — called Traditional War Dance.

Calli, Rollin, Nathif, and Fenyang accepted their silver sashes at the podium.

“We did not win the discs, but we earned respect,” Tayan told the herd. “I guarantee you this: no one here expected us to do so well. We have honored Flame Heart this day.”

They hadn’t won the Silver and Bronze Discs, and that meant only one thing to Aluna. She’d have to defeat High Khan Onggur herself, one-on-one, or they’d lose everything. She and Calli and Hoku would be given to Scorch, and the herds would either pledge their loyalty to Karl Strand and the war or be cut down where they stood. And if the Equians joined Strand’s army? Well, then there was almost no hope for the Kampii or the Aviars or anyone else who dared to fight back.

The crowd started to disperse. In only a few hours, everyone would reconvene to watch the last fight as the sun approached the horizon. Aluna turned to go — she and Tal only had a few hours to stretch and prepare — when Tayan grabbed her shoulder.

“Wait. Look.”

Aluna followed Tayan’s gaze back to the pavilion. Scorch, flanked by two Red Sky, stepped to the front and spoke quietly with the Path of Moon announcer. He held up his hand, telling everyone not to leave. When he turned to face the crowd, his expression seemed dark.

“I regret to inform you that the Great One, High Khan Onggur, has suddenly taken ill. He will be unable to compete in the final match this afternoon.”

The stadium erupted with noise.

“What does this mean?” Aluna asked in the chaos. “Is the fight postponed? Do I fight someone else?”

Tayan looked pale. “I am sorry, Aluna. I am very sorry.”

“What? What does it mean?”

“I fear they are about to tell us,” Dash said.

The announcer had held up his hand again. “According to herd law, the second-best competitor from the High Khan’s ring will take his place.”

“Oh, no,” Dash said. “This cannot be happening.”

Scorch stepped forward and waved to the crowd as if she’d just won an award. The announcer continued: “Scorch, recently made Red Sky, will now fight Aluna of Flame Heart.”

This time the noise was deafening.

“I cannot believe she found a way,” Dash said. Aluna could barely hear him over the clamoring.

“I can,” she said. “I wonder how she did it.”

“Poison,” Nathif said easily. “You saw how the High Khan wobbled. A man of his stamina does not suddenly become ill without help.”

A man in the crowd yelled, “The snakes did this!” A woman answered, “We need to defend our bloodlines!”

“And we need to leave here. Right now,” Tayan said. “Do not engage. Keep your eyes down and your tongues silent.” She led them quickly and quietly out of the arena. Only when they were safely back at their campsite did she allow them to speak again.

“They will be arguing about this the rest of the day,” Tayan said. “The other khans cannot be happy. I’m sure they, too, will suspect poison. But unlike us, they will blame the Serpenti, not Scorch, even though it makes no sense for Flame Heart to have committed such a crime.”

“Will they change their minds?” Calli asked. “Aluna shouldn’t have to fight that monster.”

Tayan shook her head. “Herd law is very clear, and there is no time for a proper debate. The rule will stand, and the fight will happen as the law decrees.”

Dash shook his head. “The fate of the desert lies in the hands of two people who were not even born here. We place so much importance on herd law, and this time, it has trapped us. If we Equians learn anything from this, I hope we learn to think for ourselves, instead of relying on the past to think for us.”

Tayan’s tail swished. “Brother Dashiyn, I promise you this: if I survive whatever happens tonight, I will spend the rest of my life attempting to do that very thing.”

After tonight
. It was a luxury to think of anything that far away. A luxury Aluna no longer had. Now that she was fighting Scorch instead of Onggur, she was positive that she’d already seen her last dawn.

T
HE BONFIRE CRACKLED
and reached for the sky, even though the sun still hung a few centimeters above the horizon. On their end of the ring, Aluna and Tal cantered and practiced dodging, warming muscles and calming nerves. Behind them, Flame Heart had arranged itself around the edge of the fighting field. Flame Heart minus Nathif and Hoku.