The distant figures in the cerulean sky looked impossibly small and far away. The kobalin travelling with them were certain that the winged figures were ko’aye, though, and were eager to depart lest they be spotted. Qirok and his followers bowed low to Ortok and then sketched less formal bows to Elenai and Kyrkenall before bounding away. Elenai paid them scant attention, though she wondered if Qirok would rule his brethren when he returned to them.
The land beneath the ko’aye was a long, spindly fragment fashioned of brown rock and black rock and yellow rock and soaring formations of mixed rock; very little that lay before them wasn’t rock of some sort. The sun gave up its blazing and the clatter of their horses’ hooves echoed into the stillness of that lonely land.
Growing chilly, Elenai shed the head covering provided by her spare shirt and donned her khalat, her eyes more often on the figures far above than the ground before them. The ko’aye had famously excellent sight. “They’ll see we’re wearing khalats, won’t they?” Elenai asked.
“They should.” Kyrkenall was hooking his own armored robe closed. “Maybe they’ll even see my bow.” So saying, he lifted and shook it. Arzhun was nearly as famous as the archer who wielded it, and she expected the keen-eyed ko’aye would have found it just as distinctive-looking as everyone else.
The creatures circled closer. Shielding her eyes, Elenai saw that both were white, although one seemed to have a darker coloration at its feathertips. They will come, she thought, and land before us, and Kyrkenall will have to be very clever.
But the ko’aye flew farther into the distance until they were lost to sight.
Kyrkenall cursed. “I hadn’t expected they’d just fly off. I suppose I should have.”
“Do you think they’ll come back?”
“Maybe. But we’ll keep going forward in any case.”
“Maybe they’re going to go get more to hunt us,” Ortok suggested. “It would be a brave battle, if so.”
“Let’s hope that’s not their plan,” Elenai said.
“No battles.” Kyrkenall’s tone brooked no argument. “We need the ko’aye.”
“Sometimes battle happens whether you wish it or not,” Ortok said.
“It’s not going to happen here,” Kyrkenall declared obstinately.
Ortok’s brow furrowed, but he did not speak. Since they’d arrived at the fragment, his black fur was regrowing, quickly enough that if Elenai looked away for a few minutes and then back there was noticeable change.
Elenai turned to Kyrkenall. “Do you think I should update N’lahr about our progress?”
“Let’s wait until we have something more to tell him.”
That’s what Elenai should have predicted he’d say, and felt stupid now for having asked. She supposed she was growing more and more concerned that they might fail their mission. How then would N’lahr fight the Naor dragons?
By mutual consent, they fell silent.
While the place looked empty and dead, Elenai discovered that small scurrying creatures lived among the boulders, and that low-lying vegetation sheltered in the lee of rock formations. After what she guessed was a half hour, they passed an immense pillar of colored stone resembling an upturned vase and came to a vast plain of waist-high orange grass. Thunder rolled, and a distant raincloud dropped lines of moisture onto the horizon.
“It would be good to eat,” Ortok said suddenly. “I am always hungry when I change.”
“We might as well,” Kyrkenall said. “They know we’re here, and there’s no way to catch up to them. Besides, it would do the horses good to graze. Let’s halt on that rise, so we can see whatever might be coming through the foliage.” He pointed to a spot where the grasses thinned on rocky hills.
Once they’d dismounted, Kyrkenall cautioned to keep a close eye on the horses. Elenai had figured that much out. There was no telling what might be lurking out there.
“This seems a stable-enough fragment, and fairly large,” Elenai said. “Why hasn’t anyone tried to settle here?”
Kyrkenall stepped out of the shadow of a crooked peak and into the sunlight. “We don’t know that they haven’t, for sure,” he said. “But it’s too far from the realms to bother with, and too close to the kobalin lands. If that’s not enough reason, there were a lot of storms out here even before the shifts got worse. If you settled here you’d have a hard time staying in touch with the central realms.”
“It seems pleasant enough. Are there a lot of fragments out here like this?” If there were enough together, a colony might be established.
“Some.” He flashed a tired grin at her. “I used to want to go out and see them all. Maybe I will, someday.”
She’d never heard anything remotely like that from Kyrkenall before. But then since she’d met him he’d always been chased toward one necessary goal or another. Apart from his quest for Kalandra and his love of theater—or at least the quoting of it—she really had no idea about his aspirations. She rather liked this glimpse of a more curious Kyrkenall and wished she saw more of him.
While Kyrkenall and Ortok used their dwindling charcoal supply to set up a nearly smokeless fire, Elenai sat, downed some wine, and kept her eyes on the horses, belly high in the waving grasses and happily munching. She willed her ring to full power without activating its light, and grew aware of the subtle play of energies around her.
A quick glance with the ring revealed that the grass was thick with smaller signs of life that denoted insects and small mammals. It was said Sartain had fashioned very little out here in the wastelands, so all these animals had to have wandered in through the shifts from other places.
“Well, look at that!” Kyrkenall said behind her, and she scanned the grass for some sign of a slinking feline shape, or, worse, one of the glowlizards.
“They come back,” Ortok said, his mouth full of the tough jerky he chewed.
Elenai looked up to find a trail of long slim creatures with vast wings, high in the sky. A dozen of them dropped slowly until they were only a few hundred feet overhead, where they circled.
Then one plunged straight toward them, claws out. Was it maneuvering for a landing? Or had all of them come back to fight, as Ortok hoped?
Kyrkenall cursed. “Elenai, it’s coming for our horses. Do something gentle!”
He might be expecting a lot, she thought. She reached out to touch the hearthstone with her mind, flicked it on, then sent a tendril of purpose soaring through the inner world toward the diving ko’aye.
Her own thoughts brushed the creature’s mind and met a torrent of rage. She didn’t want to experiment with touching it with hope or joy, which might make it more determined to succeed, so she chose confusion, wondering even as she did if there was a way to promise friendship, or kindness.
Someday, she thought, she’d have to practice her skills with a real tutor and stop relying on the hearthstone’s raw force.
The ko’aye pulled out of its dive only twenty feet above, swinging out over the grasslands, shaking its head as if to clear it.
Their horses hadn’t cared for the abortive attack; Elenai’s mount and the pack horses bolted across the grass. Lyria and Ortok’s horse called restively after them. Elenai sent a tendril to calm them, astonished that Ortok’s horse, because of its sedate temperament, was more brave than hers and the pack horses, which had years of training. Once the fear subsided in the mounts, she whistled them back, wary of applying too much force against them. Slow and steady was better.
Two other ko’aye swooped down, one seeking the side of the one Elenai had confused. The other, a silvery beast with blue-tipped feathers, flew low overhead, as if to inspect them. Kyrkenall raised his right hand and let his ring shine.
All three ko’aye flapped their wings and rose to rejoin the larger group high above.
Kyrkenall shielded his eyes with one hand as a washed-out sun broke through the clouds.
“Didn’t they recognize us as Altenerai?” Elenai said.
“Oh, they recognized us.” Kyrkenall frowned. “I think they’re a little undecided about what to do. They’re flying close enough to communicate.” He pointed at the creatures, in tight formation.
“I think they came hunting our horses,” Ortok said, as if this weren’t staggeringly obvious. “Maybe they wonder if they can eat them. That would make me sad, though horses are delicious. Mine is good for riding.”
Kyrkenall shot him a sidelong glance. “You probably don’t know this, Ortok, but that’s a damned good horse you’ve got there.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I bet you couldn’t find one in another thousand or more that would suit you so well. You should take care of him.”
Ortok absorbed this for a moment, then nodded gravely. “I will do that. What makes him good?”
“He’s calm, and steady, and walks on without complaint. Like a good warrior ought to do. And he’s fearless. Most horses have to be trained to deal with combat, but yours is unafraid.”
Ortok grunted.
A latecomer joined the flock of ko’aye and Elenai sensed Kyrkenall’s attention sharpen. The winged beasts circled together for a time longer and then the majority flew off to the right. Two continued to circle, slowly. And two others landed on the far end of the nearby ridge, touching down at almost the same moment.
Elenai had never seen a ko’aye at close range, though she’d looked upon paintings and tapestries depicting them. While they were just as noble and beautiful as she’d expected, there was something wild and dangerous to them no art had fully captured. They had been described as winged lizards, but they looked much more to her like long-necked predatory birds, with bright cunning eyes back of their beaks, though they trailed long barbed tails like no bird she had ever seen.
As graceful as they looked in the air, they were somewhat clumsy as they waddled along the rock, their gait growing less cumbersome once they folded their great wings.
The horses cocked their ears forward, attention riveted upon the predators.
Kyrkenall bade Ortok watch the horses and advanced with Elenai for a dialogue.
The two of them climbed ten feet up a steep slope to a shallow, rocky ridge and walked through the cool shadow of a jagged peak nearby. The wind riders raised lizard-like feathered heads on slender necks. With their enormous eyes they appeared wise and alert. One was the white individual with bronze-tipped feathers they’d seen earlier, the other was a brilliant blue, and had a long scar running along the front of its neck. At closer range, both ko’aye looked more spindly than she had first realized. She wondered if they were always this lean.
Kyrkenall bowed formally from the waist and indicated Elenai, who echoed the gesture. “Drusa, it brings me great joy to see you once more. And you as well, Vavesh. This is Elenai Oddsbreaker.”
The blue, scarred one bobbed her head. The other regarded them unwinking, then addressed them in a high, clear voice, moving its jaw only a little. Chirrups and clicks were interspersed among the sounds it made, especially hard consonants. “You are not welcome. No more than the kobalin that take our prey.”
Kyrkenall showed empty palms. “We come as friends.”
The white one answered. “Your people are not our friends.”
“I was your friend, Vavesh. Many of us still are.”
“Friends hold to their word.”
“I am your friend,” Kyrkenall declared, forcefully, and addressed the blue one. “You do not need me to declare that with words, Drusa.”
“You declared it with deeds.” Drusa’s voice was more harsh and rasping than her companion’s, perhaps owing to the wound that had scarred her. She fluttered her wings and turned her head to Vavesh. “He risked himself to save my mate.”
“I fought for more than your mate,” Kyrkenall said.
“Which is why we are listening rather than attacking,” Vavesh told him. “Some yet think well of you, Black Eye, though they have lost love for your people. But where were you when the Naor sought our nests?” The animal’s head rose. “Count the missing, Kyrkenall of the black bow! How many do you see in today’s flight? There should be fifty more. But too many fly the red winds!”
Drusa lowered her shovellike head. “You promised that you would help us hunt the Naor in our lands if we hunted them in yours. But after N’lahr commander fell, the Denaven commander brought us the word of your queen, and she told us to be gone. Where were you then?”
Kyrkenall bowed his head briefly. “I mourned my friend, and went wandering. I didn’t know what the queen had done until it was too late.” He swept a hand toward Elenai. “Elenai slew Denaven. And she and I found that the queen had hidden N’lahr, and that he was not dead. He commands again, and sent us to speak to you.”
The heads of both ko’aye snapped up in surprise.
“What word does he bring?” Drusa asked.
“He wishes us to fight again,” Vavesh concluded quickly. “You wish to ask more favors, without delivering upon prior promises!” Vavesh’s barbed tail twitched into the air and his wings fluttered.
Kyrkenall raised an open hand even as Drusa tilted her head and clucked something toward her companion.
Vavesh shifted, then lowered his tail. “Speak, Kyrkenall.”
“I wish to bear the word of my leader to yours.”
Vavesh traded a look with Drusa, then they exchanged a series of warbles and clicks that grew more heated, judging by the sway of their necks and the agitation of both sets of wings.
Finally, Vavesh faced them once more. “Wait here.” He backed away, then performed an ungainly about-face before lumbering off along the ridge to spread his wings. Elenai was startled once more by how awkward the creatures appeared to be while on the ground. It wasn’t until Vavesh beat his wings and launched into the air that his beauty was again apparent, and Elenai watched his progress with a measure of envy. She might manage sorcery, but she had no power to fly.
Drusa lowered her head until it was level with Kyrkenall’s, then cocked it to take him in with one great eye. “It does please me to see you once more,” she said. “Though I had put you from my thoughts.”
“I never stopped thinking of you,” Kyrkenall said gently.
“That is kind. How have you fared?”
Kyrkenall laughed without humor. “I have friends, so I am wealthy.”
“Have you a mate?”
“She’s lost to me.” Kyrkenall managed to hide most of his frustration. “You?”
“I do still. I have hatchlings now. I’d like to take them from this dusty place, for the food is scarce.”
“How many do you have?” Kyrkenall asked. “How old are they?”
“Only a year, I think. The seasons pass strangely here and it’s hard to mark them. I have two. They do not grow large or quickly in this place. I’m sorry to hear about your mate. Did she fall in battle?”
Kyrkenall waved a hand at the indeterminate distance. “I speak of Kalandra Storm Strider.”
Drusa cawed and her head drew up. “Oh, Kyrkenall. This saddens me. Always did I like her. And I thought you two might be mates, and that it was strange to delay it. Did you have younglings?”
“No.”
“What happened to her?”
“She wandered into the shifts, trying to find answers that would help us stop the queen. But she never came back. I never knew for certain how she felt about me until she was gone.”
“It seems you have borne many sorrows.” Drusa’s head swung to Elenai. “Is she your new mate?”
“No,” Kyrkenall said. Elenai noted no hesitation in his voice. Drusa’s unwinking eye stared at her, and she searched for something to say.
“These lands seem beautiful.”
Drusa’s eye narrowed. “Do you mean a compliment, Altenerai?”
“Yes.”
“There is little game here. And the storms come to our borders. And the winds are fierce. And hunter beasts there are, too.” It nodded to Ortok, watching them from the bottom of the hill. “And enemies like those, who sometimes seek our eggs. Why do you travel with our enemy?”
“He guided us here,” Kyrkenall answered.
Drusa’s beak clacked. “I thought you Altenerai warred with kobalin.”
“Sometimes we do.”
Drusa hooted, and then her head wobbled. “Oh, Kyrkenall. I wish to help you bear this word. But your words will not be trusted. Your people change your habits too often. Sometimes you war with the Naor, who kill your people. Sometimes you make peace with them. Sometimes you war with kobalin, and sometimes they are your companions. Sometimes you fight among yourselves. Might you decide you wish to war with us?”
“Drusa, I trusted you with my life. And I swear that you can trust me with yours.” He thumped his chest with emphasis. “I wish to make things right.”
“The hunting was fine between us. But what of the rest of your people? It seems there are powerful ones you cannot trust.”
“N’lahr is my greatest friend,” Kyrkenall said. “I trust him above all others. And he commands us.”
“And your queen?”
“He will dethrone our queen,” Kyrkenall declared. Hearing it stated so clearly in public for the first time, Elenai couldn’t help a sharp breath.
Overhead, Vavesh dropped toward them again, his wings high. In moments, he had landed and, still folding his wings, took his place beside Drusa. There they had a long exchange in their fluting, clacking, birdlike language. Though it continued at length, it did not appear to be as antagonistic as their previous debate.
Finally Vavesh addressed them. “We’re on our way to the new homelands. You may follow us, if you wish. But do not imagine that you’ll be well received. We know how empty your promises are.”
Drusa cut in. “Many agree with Vavesh. But Kyrkenall and Aradel and others are remembered well. And on strength of those memories, you may come with us, in peace.”
Vavesh cried out something to that and Drusa said something that ended with a snap of her beak.
Vavesh turned away from them.
Drusa bowed her head. “Follow. It may be a long journey on your horses. Do you need them all? Because they look very fine.”
Elenai worried that Kyrkenall might consider cutting some of the animals free, as a peace gesture, but he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Drusa. They’re under our care. They’ve served us well.”
She warbled at him and Elenai suspected that this was Drusa’s way of showing amusement.
“Fair enough. Do not dawdle, ground dweller!” And with something that looked an awful lot like a playful look over her shoulder, she turned and started off, waddling until she thrust out her wings, flapped them, and gained the air.
Without another word, Kyrkenall hurried down the hill, shouting at Ortok to gather the charcoal. This they did, using a cloth bag to shield their hands. The kobalin’s eyes roved back and forth between them.
“I thought at first they wished to fight,” he said. “Did you make friends? Will they join us in battle?”
“I wish it was that simple,” Kyrkenall answered. “The situation’s a little complicated.”
“So your words did not work?”
“We’re going to speak with their leaders. And I’ll have to do a better job with them than I did just now.”
“Use small words,” Ortok suggested helpfully. “With many descriptions.”
Kyrkenall’s answer was a dark grumble.
“I don’t think you did too badly,” Elenai said.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that Drusa’s still my friend. But it’s the ones like Vavesh I’m going to have to convince. And I’m not sure anything I’m going to say will win him and his like over. Not to mention some who are even more angry.”
Most of the ko’aye flew off until they were lost in the distance. Two kept in sight with them across the grassland. Sometimes they seemed to forget that those below couldn’t keep up, and then they’d double back and hang in the air currents. This must have bored them, though, for they’d soar ahead and then start the cycle over.
Kyrkenall sat stiffly, his brows drawn. He scanned the horizon from time to time and occasionally pushed back his hair, which the wind continually whipped to his right, but he said nothing.
Elenai waited no longer. She reached out through the inner world and activated N’lahr’s hearthstone.
Almost instantly an image overlay the plains on which they rode. She stood upon a forested mountaintop looking down at a distant city. She’d never seen Alantris from this angle, but she recognized it quickly, keying in on the rising levels and the separate walls and the rings of the city’s waterways, and the tall, arched length of the ancient aqueducts. Elenai involuntarily sucked in a breath, seeing a badly mended gap in the outer wall, and lines of smoke threading through the sky from multiple points in the lower and upper city.
Alantris had fallen.
Yes, N’lahr told her. And with that single word she also felt his great fury for the lives lost, for the terror brought to so many innocents. For the horrendous waste. It was incongruous to feel such an enormous well of emotion pouring from someone she ordinarily experienced as so impassive.
How bad is it?
Aradel Sky Rider is dead. Thousands have perished. Thousands more will die.
As his sorrow and, surprisingly, guilt rolled over her, he spoke on. But Varama strikes at them from inside the city, and has slain three of their five dragons. I see ko’aye in the skies above you. Have you made peace? His query was restrained, but she could feel the urgency of his hope.
I’m not sure we can. They’re very angry. No agreement may be possible. Do we still need them if most of the dragons are dead?
She registered his surprise that she should consider that possibility. Yes. It is not just these, here. The sorcerer Chargan has more and he will arrive within a week. We are vastly outnumbered, Elenai. We must snatch any advantage. What has Kyrkenall told them?
She relived the moment for him, finishing by telling him they’d speak in audience before a gathering of the ko’aye leaders.
Contact me when you arrive. Maybe I can help.
That could be interesting, she thought, suddenly imagining herself speaking with N’lahr’s words. And she saw from his thoughts that’s exactly what he intended.
How are you? she asked him. Are there any more hearthstone incidents? Are you slowing down?
I’ve only noticed three of them, which is a decrease, and I wonder if that’s because one of the halves is so far away from me.
Do you have a plan? How to fight the Naor? How to free Alantris?
A plan is under way, he said simply. Enada is here, with cavalry, and she has spoken once with Varama. Our main body of troops is still on the way. We have much to arrange before Chargan reaches us.
His words were simple; the worry behind them was not. Had he been this concerned about Vedessus? Or was he more worried, now? She didn’t articulate the question, quite, but he seemed to hear it anyway. How much of her own thoughts and feelings was she inadvertently revealing?
I am more worried now. The Naor have the city. Their slaughter can continue virtually unopposed. Varama is clever, but they could root out her hiding place.…
His stream of thought was interrupted by Tretton, who’d come up on the left to speak about enemy troop movements. Elenai overheard N’lahr politely asking the older alten to wait before he returned his attention to her. Be alert. We have another traitorous alten. Cerai is leagued with the queen. She recovered a powerful hearthstone that the queen needs to further her own interests.
Do we know what those interests are?
There was no missing N’lahr’s maddened frustration over his inability to do anything about that. He was furious he couldn’t halt the queen’s machinations, or even learn what she planned. All he broadcast, though, was one word: No.
Then: Cerai abandoned Alantris rather than fighting to save it, and attacked Rylin and Varama. She ensorcelled Aradel’s ko’aye and kidnapped her. She has grown very powerful. Be your sharpest if you meet her.
Elenai thought it unlikely they would, but she bowed her head solemnly. We will.
N’lahr glanced at Tretton, waiting impatiently. I must go. My best to Kyrkenall and Ortok, and to you. Contact me when you speak before the ko’aye.
Hail, Commander.
Hail, Alten.
At that, she broke contact and quieted the stone. She gathered her thoughts and rode up to Kyrkenall, bearing the tidings.
His jaw tightened at the news of the city’s fall and Aradel’s death, and his eyes widened in amazement at news of Cerai.
“I can’t believe Cerai’s working with the queen. She hated Denaven.”
“Apparently that didn’t stop her.”
“I’d give a lot to know what they’re really up to.”
“We already have,” she said.
“Aye. And we’re little closer to knowing the truth.” The archer sighed. “I wish I was there with N’lahr, not here. I’m no good at this kind of thing.”
“N’lahr said he’d help, once we started talking.”
“And you’re sure that the hearthstone isn’t hurting him?”
“I’m not sure at all. He says he’s having those episodes less.” When she’d told Kyrkenall about N’lahr’s stone, she’d also informed him of the risks. “He’s really worried about the city. He’s not entirely sure what to do, and he has only a few days to figure it out, because another huge Naor army is on its way.”
“Then we’d best get him these ko’aye,” Kyrkenall said.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?”
“Aye. At least, I think I do.”
“You want to talk it over?”
He didn’t look at her. “No. I need to think it through. I need to think really, really hard about what I’m going to say without any interruptions.” He said the last sharply, as though she made a habit of bothering him, like a nagging shrew.
His tone irked her. “I think I’ll go talk with Ortok.”
She dropped back beside the kobalin, who’d somehow ended up leading the pack horses.
With his larger horse and larger frame, Ortok rode from a higher vantage point. In the last little while his black fur had almost completely regrown. He was gnawing on what must have been a very tough piece of dry jerky, holding both reins in one dark paw.
“I think you look nice with black fur,” she said.
He swallowed, then took another bite and considered her. “Do you wish you had black fur?”
“It had never occurred to me,” she answered honestly. “Do you have any control during a storm?”
“Some. The Gods bless our bodies so they change in the challenge times. I control when to grow the fur, and whether it will be black or gray. Can you change the color in your hair?”
“No. And I can’t grow it as fast as you, either.”
“We kobalin adapt,” he said proudly. “You would not live well in the wild places,” he added.
“Probably not.”
He nodded toward Kyrkenall. “He seems with no cheer. Is there a reason?”
“He’s kind of an ass,” she decided.
Ortok laughed. “Do you wish to challenge him?”
“No. I don’t think I do.”
“You should save challenge words until you do, then, so no one will think you rude.”
She considered that little kernel of wisdom, then wondered how it was she was so often being schooled in courtesy by a creature who had only slept once in a bed. “What do you say to a leader who’s rude?”
“You must decide whether their guidance is worthy of enduring disrespect from them, or whether they should be challenged. But that may not be the way of your people. I have seen. You do not challenge properly. You do not exchange blows or even trade leadership when you win. It is strange.”
She didn’t know how to explain all the societal niceties and particulars, and wasn’t in the mood to try in any case, so she fell silent, fearing for the people of Alantris. The Naor, she remembered, had intended the same thing for her own city, and if not for their desperate efforts, Vedessus now would be a place of horror.
At length they passed a dark little lake before which other ko’aye hunched over the bodies of lanky, long-limbed beasts and tore at their flesh. She didn’t get a clear idea of what the prey animals looked like until she saw a distant herd of the green-backed, long-necked creatures watching the carnage. Even when the things bent to graze, a pair of sensory organs remained upright to scan the horizon. She found those eyestalks faintly unsettling.
They continued following their reluctant airborne guides, and the character of the land grew rocky once more. As they headed up a scree-strewn slope, Elenai spotted dozens of ko’aye swooping over the hills ahead. She marveled a little to see so many of the creatures on the wing. Most were of gray and blue hues, but many were dappled with splashes of gold or silver, or splotched with tan and brown.
“This is a bad place to be if they grow angry,” Ortok mused. “There are many claws here.”
Neither she nor Kyrkenall answered. Deep as they were in ko’aye territory and surrounded by them, Ortok’s comment was understatement. Should the ko’aye turn on them, they stood no chance.
Drusa returned and landed fifty yards ahead, saying nothing as she led them through a narrow pass in the hills. Beyond it they could see a vast clear spot in the rocks surrounded on all sides by ledge-studded cliffs. Ko’aye were settling onto both the ledges and a grand collection of natural, narrow rock columns rising three and four stories above the stony ground, arrayed in front of the cliffs.
Drusa paused before descending into the area, looking over one hunched shoulder and raising her voice. “Your kobalin must remain here, with the horses. I am to translate whatever words you bring us. I hope that they are good ones.” Drusa then tread downslope toward a clear space before the columns.
Kyrkenall slipped off Lyria and patted her neck while he considered the hostile audience that awaited them. He turned to Elenai and Ortok. “You heard her, Ortok. Can you keep a watch on the horses?”
“What if you do not come back?” Ortok asked. “It shall be hard to avenge you against so many.”
Kyrkenall quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t bother avenging me.” He glanced at Elenai, then down into the gathering. “Just get yourself back to N’lahr and tell him what happened. See if you can get Lyria back alive, too.” He gave his mount a final pat. “She’s a wonderful horse.”
Lyria tossed her head at him, flashing a brown eye.
“I will.”
Kyrkenall turned and started away.
Elenai gave a half wave to Ortok, then walked at the archer’s side down the slope after Drusa.
“What, no questions?” Kyrkenall asked softly. “No advice?”
Was he trying to needle her into a conflict? Now? “You didn’t want any.”
He grunted. “Kalandra would have insisted.”
“I’m not Kalandra. Did you want me to come up with something? Because this isn’t a game. We could have talked about it.”
“Yes.”
She wasn’t sure what that yes was about, but she didn’t ask, for they’d come up to Drusa, waiting for them with her gold-brown eyes unwinking. Maybe it was a neutral look. Or maybe she was tense and sad. Elenai couldn’t tell how much she was reading into the ko’aye’s appearance.
“They will speak first,” Drusa said. “I urge profound courtesy. You have few who do not wish you ill, Kyrkenall.”
Elenai chose then to reach out to N’lahr’s stone. Now she found him drinking from a waterskin. Evening had come to The Fragments, and the sun was half hidden behind a nearby mountain spur.
It’s nearly time, she told him.
He called to Gyldara, standing nearby, that he’d need to be undisturbed for a few moments, then retreated to a tent.
Perhaps if you closed your eyes, she told him, it would be easier for us both. Seeing both his view and her own was distracting.
Good idea.
They followed Drusa the rest of the way in, crossing through the shadows of the stone pillars where close to two dozen ko’aye perched. To her eyes they looked lean, and strained. The columns they sat upon were only a little thicker than those fronting the great temple of Darassa, but rose to varied heights. The smallest towered easily twenty feet from the ground and the highest almost double that.
Hundreds more of the avians waited along the tiered cliff ledges behind the pillars. This apparently wasn’t going to be a conference with leaders alone, but the whole of their adult population. That, she thought, probably didn’t bode well.
The ko’aye blinked rarely, and under so many protracted, focused gazes, Elenai wondered if this is how a rabbit felt when watched by hawks.
Some of the ko’aye she supposed for flock leaders preened their feathers. Others clicked and cawed to themselves. The majority, though, continued to watch, and the most golden-hued of these finally gave out a shrill alert that brought the others to quiet, then peered down with lowered brow and gabbled in its high-pitched tongue.
Drusa translated. “You have come without welcome, so the wing guard is uncertain how to greet your coming. He says that you should say your words quickly so that you do not waste much of their time.”
“Is that Seneksa?”
Drusa cocked her head a little. “Yes. Do not think that will help you.”
Seeing that Kyrkenall readied himself for a bow, Elenai joined him, so that their movement was perfectly synchronized. The archer then threw back his head, and called up to the golden one and the assembled leaders. “My heart soars to see so many of you once more.”
Drusa emitted a stream of clicks and tweets and continued to do so as Kyrkenall finished each phrase.
“Some of you have shed blood with me. Some of you know I risked my life at your side, to defend you. I know that your memories are long, and no matter what has happened since, you remember how we slew enemies together. How you protected me from our enemies. How I fended hunters from Seneksa’s young.”
Elenai sensed N’lahr’s approval of that.
After Drusa’s translation there was extended conversation among those upon the columns until golden Seneksa silenced them.
A black one called down in a voice so heavily accented with warbles and chirps Elenai had a hard time understanding it. “We remember! But there is much we remember, Kyrkenall!”
Another one shouted down in its own language, which Drusa translated with seeming displeasure. “We remember your betrayal.”
Kyrkenall looked undeterred. “Do you remember how we flew against the Naor over the bright fields of Kanesh? Do you recall when Drusa and I landed amidst their numbers to rescue Ekatrin and his mate? How he lived to foster a clutch of hatchlings? I am your friend! My enemies betrayed me, just as they betrayed you! They lied to me, as they lied to you! They told me my brother of the ring was dead! N’lahr, who led us to victories! N’lahr, who counseled with your greatest warriors! Our enemies hid N’lahr away and made peace with the Naor so they could steal what they wished for themselves!”
The ko’aye chattered at this.
Kyrkenall gave them a moment to quiet. “With N’lahr gone my queen put Denaven in charge, and he lied to you! But that speaker of lies has died, and Elenai slew him with her own hand!” Kyrkenall paused to look at her. “N’lahr commands again! He never broke his promise to you, and he means to honor it now that he is free!”
Only a little noise greeted this. Elenai wasn’t sure whether to be cheered or concerned by that.
He’s doing fairly well, N’lahr observed. But he needs to get to the point. Elenai had to agree.
Drusa continued to translate as Kyrkenall spoke with greater confidence. “Even now N’lahr leads a mighty army against the Naor. Already uncounted thousands have been killed by him, with us at his side. If you fly to the battle site you would see no sign of skulls, the Naor prize, but a pyre of dead Naor wide as this clearing!”
The wind riders quieted altogether. They craned their necks.
“We will defeat the Naor! Come fight them with us in The Fragments, and we will help you take back your lands!”
From the right a harsh voice croaked down, “This was promised before.”
Elenai swung around to observe a white ko’aye with bronze feathertips. Vavesh.
Vavesh’s head shook slowly on the end of his neck. “It’s too late, Kyrkenall. The time has passed.”
The ko’aye shrilled at one another then, in disordered cacophony. Elenai waited for a pause, then saw that most of those on the columns were no longer even looking at their human guests, for they were fully absorbed in a vigorous debate.
“What are they saying?” Kyrkenall asked Drusa.
“Some of the young ones want to fight the Naor. Others want to see lands rich with game that elders told of.”
“And what do the old ones say?”
“That you lie.”
“All of them say that?” Kyrkenall sounded surprised.
Drusa’s head bobbed, and she continued sadly: “Some of them say you may not lie but cannot be trusted still. They are curious about Elenai and wonder if she is strong enough to kill Denaven, the Oath Breaker. He was a worker of magics.”
“Do you wonder?” Elenai asked.
“No,” Drusa answered gravely. “I think that you have done it. Kyrkenall would not say it if not true. And there is an aura of power about you.”
There was? She bowed her head in acknowledgment of the compliment, and Drusa returned it minutely.
Seneksa, leader of the ko’aye, had at last quieted his flock, and spoke at length while Drusa translated.
“Kyrkenall, all that you say may be true. Many of us believe that it is so. But who is to say that others will not kill N’lahr again and you will disappear once more?”
“If N’lahr falls,” Kyrkenall said, his eyes bright, “I will lead you to your lands myself, and fight the Naor until they’re dead or I have perished in the battle. I swear it by the ring that blazes upon my finger.”
It was such an impassioned, heartfelt pledge that Elenai sucked in a breath. “I swear as well!”
The archer spoke on. “N’lahr will ask this oath of all who wear the ring, and all they command. But no matter what you decide, you should know that with the Naor on the march, the lands they claim will have few protectors. It seems an excellent time to take back your home.”
One ko’aye flew down from its cave and soared past those upon the columns, clacking and chirping and moving its legs in a slashing motion. More outcries arose from the ko’aye, and soon it was clear that another argument was under way.
“What’s happening?” Elenai asked Drusa.
“That is Lelaren, the one who wished to attack you earlier. Some are shouting him down for his rudeness, for he is supposed to let his sentinel speak for him, and he said that they are all too pleasant with you. Now others join in … it is hard to follow.” Drusa fell silent, her head cocking as she listened. Finally Lelaren retreated to the cliff top, where he hunched like a vulture. The tumult calmed, and then a brown one spoke down to Drusa, who relayed its words.
“Your kind is always clever. You want our help, but you have never given anything in return but empty words.” At an onrush of noise from the assembled ko’aye, Drusa continued: “Others say that your hearts may be full, but that your heads are empty, to promise things beyond your power. Seneksa says that the Naor are too many and will beat you in the end, no matter what we do.”
“What do you think?” Kyrkenall asked.
“Ah, old friend. The truth can hurt. I think that you will fail. But then I think that we will fail. The Naor and the many-legged lizards that shine and the storms of the Shifting Lands shall triumph in the end. Our eyries will be empty and your cities will be strewn with the bleached bones of your people.”
Elenai was astonished at the sentiment.
A bleak poet of the ko’aye, N’lahr observed.
“You’re not exactly an optimist, are you, Drusa?” Kyrkenall asked. “What can I do to convince them to join with me once more?”
I want you to tell them something, N’lahr said.
She nodded. “Drusa,” she said, “I’d like to tell them something. I am linked to N’lahr. He is miles away, facing our enemies, but he speaks through me.”
Drusa cocked her head.
Kyrkenall turned a palm over as if to say do what you will.
Drusa had to call the others to settle down and listen. When they had at last, Elenai indicated her willingness to N’lahr.
But he wasn’t speaking. She could feel his presence, but he said nothing.
N’lahr? she prompted.
But his mind was unresponsive.
Gods, she realized in near panic, he’s having one of the episodes.
Drusa stared at her.
N’lahr?
But the commander didn’t answer. She felt him, but the flow of his thoughts had vanished. Of course. The prolonged contact with the stone had brought on another spell. She prayed that it was only a momentary lapse. The safest thing to do was to shut down the stone, and this she did, then closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts.
What might N’lahr have wished to say? Something wise. Something clever. So much for the utility of linking with the commander through the stone. Maybe if she hadn’t been relying upon him she would have come up with a line of attack herself. Then she wouldn’t have to invent one on the spot. She remembered the vast empty places they’d passed only weeks ago, and came to her decision. Elenai raised her chin and addressed them all, pausing every few sentences so that Drusa could translate.
“We owe you better lands. Until we can help you recover yours, you can share ours. Game in the southern Fragments is plentiful, and there are many high places to roost. You can fly there and claim them any time you like. You need not hunt Naor with us.” She paused to let this sink in, and saw Kyrkenall eying her in surprised approval. She studied the ko’aye, hoping the stirrings she saw in their ranks were a positive sign. There might be other suitable lands to offer as well, although she wasn’t sure where precisely in the Five Realms, and she reasoned if the ko’aye got to The Fragments and found the Naor, they might not be able to resist fighting them.
She wondered what N’lahr would think of such a promise. Had she gone too far? Even if N’lahr might, as she suspected, find the offer just, honorable, and possibly shrewd, what would the governors say? How would the villages in The Fragments feel about inviting large and fierce predators into nearby lands? She’d just have to trust her instincts and deal with the consequences. She was Altenerai, it was her duty not just to uphold the laws—which certainly included honoring oaths and agreements—but to protect her people and their lands. And the Fragments were apt to be much safer if they included ko’aye as a buffer against the Naor. Alantrans would be foolish to object to the arrival of potential allies, although she thought she’d best clarify an important point. “All we ask is that you keep from people and our herd animals.”
The ko’aye began to talk among themselves, then hushed as she raised a hand, understanding she had more. “Right now, the Naor are in The Fragments. But we will drive them away. If you want to help us, we shall drive them faster, but we will succeed, and the skies are yours regardless.There is plenty to eat and enjoy whether you engage or avoid our shared enemy.”
The moment Drusa completed speaking upon her behalf, she lowered her hand, and then the ko’aye talked even more vociferously.
“Nicely said,” Kyrkenall told her softly.
“N’lahr froze up,” she said. “I think the damned stone is hurting him.”
“What?” Kyrkenall hissed quietly. His eyes widened. “You mean just now? Or before you spoke?”
“Right before I spoke. I sure hope he likes my offer, because I have no idea what he was going to say.”
“I like it,” Kyrkenall emphasized, and then to Drusa, watching them, he said, “and we will honor it.” To Elenai: “Is he going to be all right?”
“I hope so.”
“What is this you talk about?” Drusa asked, her head beside theirs.
“Great sorcery caused troubles for us while Elenai was speaking for N’lahr,” Kyrkenall answered.
Drusa’s head bobbed. Elenai thought that she might be more concerned about the interchange, but the ko’aye had apparently been listening to the chatter above. “You have convinced some of them that you value us, and you regret the past, and you bring news of help to us,” Drusa said, then halted. “Seneksa speaks.” The animal lifted her head, turning it as the ko’aye settled and their leader, golden Seneksa, spoke alone.
“He says,” Drusa told them, “that they have decided. You can stay and rest after your long journey, in honor of the bond we once shared. We were comrades, once.”
Kyrkenall spoke quickly. “We are comrades now, if you would have us.”
Drusa translated this and then the leader’s response. “We do not think so.” Behind Seneksa the others squabbled.
Drusa leaned her head toward Kyrkenall and spoke softly. “You should not have interrupted.” She then lifted her head once more, and conveyed the leader’s final words: “Make no mistake. Some believe you speak the truth. But no one can trust that you have the power to deliver what you promise. You wish us to fight at your side again, and that cannot be. Go now, and rest, and you may leave after a sleeping cycle. Our audience is done.”
Seneksa unfurled his wings, beat them once, and then soared skyward. After a moment, the other ko’aye rose with him. Others chirped, and the air was full with not just their feathered bodies, but their calls, so it seemed they were in the world’s largest aviary.
Drusa remained grounded beside them. “Come with me. There are low caves you might find comfortable.”
A trio of ko’aye flapped overhead, only ten feet above, and the one in the lead let out a piercing cry, slashing the air with one taloned leg in what was clearly a threat.
“I don’t recommend staying very long,” Drusa said as she turned her shoulder to them.