75

Marcus

I scan the road as it curves close to the tree line north of Gleemarie. It’s a perfect ambush point, according to Kaylin. He waves me back, and I duck out of sight. I can hardly fathom what we’re about to attempt.

Kaylin, Samsen, and Belair hide with me in the pinewood, silent save for a few stomach growls. Kaylin’s rock cod satisfied us for the night, but with the urgency to reach Baiseen ahead of Tann’s fleet, we spared no time to fish and cook in the morning.

The plan is to steal military mounts, the logic being if we’re seen galloping south on the coast road in Aturnian military uniforms, it’s less likely we’ll be haltedor reported. The war-trained horses should be the fittest, too. The problem is, as Ash predicted, so far, no troops have come by.

Until now.

“Steady,” I say and make a fist, keeping the pain to myself. Deeper in the woods I spot De’ral and the sun leopard awaiting orders. So far, my phantom hasn’t eaten a whole village or churned the woods to pulp, which is good, considering I promised Piper he wouldn’t. We had a fierce argument, but in the end, I am the Heir, even without my official seal, which is at the bottom of the sea, or my yellow robes, which must have burned along with all the other neatly folded robes in the main hall of Aku. Still, I remind De’ral. “No killing the horses. No squashing the riders. We steal the mounts only. Do you understand? Catch, not obliterate.” Part of me is so confident I want to laugh. Another part of me, like Piper, is riddled with doubt.

And she has reason for concern, good reasons for wanting to find me a red-robe warrior to teach me greater control. Because she saw the results firsthand. I’d been self-assured in my final days of training, convinced Zarah’s instructions were paying off and De’ral and I had finally found our rhythm. But that was before the attack that changed everything. And in those moments when De’ral and I were fully joined, when nothing mattered save annihilating every threat to Aku and her people, both real and perceived, I knew not who was in control. Or if there even was control. I recall only rage and blood and a savagery that seemed to be such a part of me I fear perhaps I’ve always been more monster than man. The savant and the phantom are one, I think as Kaylin’s words come back to me. I must stay in control this time. No second chances.

Samsen slips deeper into the woods and calls over his shoulder to Kaylin. “Try not to get blood on our coats this time, will you?”

The sailor chuckles. I grimace.

Much deeper in the woods, Ash and Tyche wait, ready to call and calm the horses while we disable the riders.

Samsen’s phantom circles overhead in the form of a large tern. It sings its clipped tune and suddenly the riders heading down the road find themselves on runaway steeds. The horses race into the woods as Piper and I close in behind them. The moment the phantom stops singing, De’ral and the sun leopard jump from hiding, turning fear to terror. The horses drop their haunches and skid to a halt, rolling back, trying to escape the ambush. Five of the riders fling from their saddles. Before they pick themselves up from the ground and draw swords, we are on them.

De’ral punches the remaining riders out of their saddles, using wild swings left and right. They hit the ground and don’t move. I have to work harder than my phantom, but I flip, head-butt, and knock out two while Samsen, Piper, and Kaylin take care of the rest. Belair stays by the road, keeping watch in case anyone sees our highway robbery and tries to intervene. I hear Tyche in the distance, chanting, gathering the mounts.

“That’s enough!” I command De’ral when he picks up a body and opens his mouth. “Leave them be.” I shake with the effort to stay in command. “To ground,” I order, and De’ral melts into the earth, rushing back to me. I turn to see if anyone noticed my inner struggle, but they’re all busy with their own concerns.

“Hold!” Samsen yells to Kaylin. The sailor’s arms are raised, gripping a sword doublehanded, ready to swing wide. “No blood, remember?”

Kaylin reverses the blade, thwacking the hilt into the back of the rider’s head and knocking him out. “This one looks about your size,” Kaylin comments as he measures up the Aturnian slumped on the ground.

We’re into the Aturnian uniforms in moments, keeping the smallest for Ash, Piper, and Tyche. Even then, they have to roll up sleeves and cuffs. I notice they all strap on swords, including Ash.

“I think I’ll never be without a weapon from now on,” she says.

After what we’ve been through, I fully understand.

The entire exercise takes less than fifteen minutes, not counting the roadside wait. We pass around the soldiers’ waterskins and rummage in the saddlebags. They are well stocked with thick brown bread, dried meat, fruit, grains for cooking, and rounds of cheese. We stand in a circle together, sharing food and deciding the best match of horse to rider. I wipe crumbs off my chin stubble and give the command to mount up.

By the time the sun reaches midmorning in the east, we are south of Gleemarie, galloping full tilt toward Baiseen. I’m not sure of the others, but my horse, a tall, stocky brown mare, is smooth and easy. I have to admit, she’s even more responsive a mount than Echo, long be her path. The Aturnians have fine bloodstock, certainly. If we could only reach mutually beneficial trade agreements instead of trying to cut one another’s throats. Then again, after the attack on Aku, what chance for peace could there possibly be? It hits me in that moment, the irony. For so long, I’ve thought only of my seat on the Council, the many ways I’d bring about better diplomacy and peace. Perhaps I’d been blind to it, or naive as Father often said. Well, if Tann wanted a war…

“We can do this,” I encourage our company. “We can reach Baiseen before the fleet, secure our whistle bone, and send word to Tangeen and Nonnova. We can be ready for the attack.”

“I could call a headwind to slow the fleet,” Tyche says over the thundering hooves. She rides well considering the saddle’s two times too big and the stirrups, shortened as far as they go, are barely within reach of her toes.

“Tomorrow,” I say. “We’ll be stronger then.” I look over my shoulder at them all. “Ride on!”