Gold and amber aspens broke the monotony of the evergreens as Fleet and his companions headed south. When they paused to graze, rippling grasses fat with seed heads offered the best feed Fleet had tasted since Shimmering Lake. He caught up with Jasper at a creek. The darker forests of Lost Lands loomed ahead.
Jasper blocked his path. “My neck hurts. There are scorcheels here.”
Fleet’s rump throbbed. A crimson-streaked grey fin cut the muddy water. “Have you seen Tatuk? Maybe he can locate a safe pool. And we’ll need him to lead us through the trees.”
Jasper backed away from the water. “Tatuk’s returned to Shimmering Lake.”
“What?” A pang of loss changed to guilt. Had his grumpy mood chased their guide away? “He didn’t even say goodbye.”
“Dragons don’t like haste. I can find the way. But as there’s no reliable water, we’ll need to keep our pace up.” Jasper cantered off.
Not reassured, Fleet followed. He and Yuma hadn’t been short of water when they crossed Lost Lands earlier; Tatuk had created sustenance for them both. Now what would they do?
The further south they travelled, the warmer and drier the country became. Jasper slowed. “We’ll have to travel at night and rest in the day to help Yuma conserve his fluids.”
“What about us? How much further is it to River Lifeflow?”
Jasper’s coat was crusted with sweat. “Your warm blood should cope without water for moons. Absorb Equinora’s energy through your hooves, inhale the wind, and soak up the sun’s rays through your coat. Being black should make it easy.”
The reminder about his origins didn’t help quench Fleet’s thirst. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Then learn. Open your mind to your powers.”
Fleet struggled to quash the anger boiling inside him. “I thought I was supposing to be shielding my thoughts.”
“Your thoughts, yes. Your imagination, no.” Jasper laid back his ears. “Embrace your gifts rather than pining to be a normal horse. I can’t imagine why any noncorn would want to dissociate themselves from their hot blood.”
Biting back a comment about his blood being a quarter duocorn, Fleet cantered along, stretching his senses to detect the energy swarming around him. Even though he could sense the life of the forest, he failed to connect to any elemental power. Perhaps the poison in his veins prevented him from accessing it.
He struggled to keep up with Jasper, needing help from him, not a reminder of his ancestry. Ever since Yuma had stabbed the bloodwolf fangs into Jasper’s neck, his moods had grown darker.
They went on in silence.
Fleet’s tongue thickened and his skin pulled taught over his tired muscles. Sweat stopped pouring down his neck and flanks. He dropped to a walk and hung his head in exhaustion. “I must have water soon.”
Yuma slid from his back and opened his pack. “You can have what’s left in my bladderflask.”
Fleet refused. “You need it more than me.”
“I’m riding. You’re the one doing all the work. Have it.” Yuma inserted the neck of the flask into the side of Fleet’s mouth and tipped it up.
Grateful for the tepid drink, Fleet ignored the taint of the hog container. What had his life come to, that he couldn’t even drink by himself?
As they continued, the pace and his dry mouth prevented conversation. Fleet trotted behind Jasper, focusing only on each stride. His mind numbed as they plodded on until the scent of water perked him up. His rump ached but didn’t throb. The water ran fast and clear. “It’s safe.”
Yuma dismounted and hurried over.
Fleet staggered to the bank and stretched down to the river, letting the moisture soften his lips and fill his stomach. Desperate to cool his parched flesh, he waded into deeper water and pawed the surface, sending a shower over his back.
Jasper splashed in the shallows further downstream, his horn and hooves glistening like the obsidian of Shadow’s caves, his body sparkling with droplets like fresh blood. “Thank the goddess for cold water. All those years I yearned to be hot. Now I think Snowhaven wasn’t such a bad place.”
“We should go via Flowering Valley to let Streak know what’s happening. Is it far?”
Jasper scrambled up the bank. “We haven’t got time to chat. We must push on.”
Fleet had no desire to share his failure, anyway. “In that case he’ll have to wait for news.” His rump throbbed. He jumped back from the river. “Look out! Scorcheels are near!”
Yuma leapt clear. The water flowed uninterrupted by the tell-tale churn of mud.
The pain in Fleet’s rump intensified. He sniffed the air. “Bloodwolf!”
As Fleet galloped in panic, Yuma clung tight, wind tears streaming from his eyes, his right arm cradled to his chest. Jasper streaked in a crimson blur, first one side then the other, laying a zigzag trail in the hope of delaying the bloodwolf.
Fleet’s breathing came in ragged gasps.
Jasper ran alongside. “You can slow down. It’s gone.”
They continued at a steady canter, every muscle of Fleet’s back tense beneath Yuma’s seat, mirroring the tension in his own. With his arm still in a cast, he couldn’t use his bow, and he’d had to abandon his spear long ago. The far bank of the river stretched beyond sight as they sped over the rough ground. Stones flew as they maintained their speed, Fleet’s hooves tough and hardened from the dry going.
A rocky outcrop drove them into the damp interior of the forest. Yuma, having never ventured south of Oaktown, felt dwarfed by the hemlock, larch and maples that stretched taller than any forest he’d ever seen.
Fleet slowed to a trot, winding between trees where sunlight struggled to penetrate the thick canopy. Trails of tiny scavengers wove through the tree litter. Nurse logs carried saplings on their rotting trunks, the roots of the young trees reaching down among the ferns and fungi. Beetles of every shape, size, and colour scurried among the shed needles, and flying insects pestered Yuma’s exposed skin.
Jasper flicked his tail at the annoying bugs. “Let’s get back to the river so we can pick up speed.”
With relief, they broke out into open ground and raced down the bank. Yuma welcomed the chance to refill his bladderflask, almost falling off Fleet, his legs cramped from riding for so long. They didn’t even set up camp each night; he lived off whatever he could forage along the way. He slid his pack from his aching shoulders and headed to the river.
The cast on his arm made descending the steep bank a challenge. The break should be mended by now and the itchiness drove him mad. Using an obsidian shard, he cut the silk cocoon and peeled back the casing like the shell of a nut. Pink flesh shone with no sign of any injury. Impressed by the clean healing, he flexed his fingers without pain.
Fleet bounded chest deep into the roiling current, mirroring Yuma’s relief.
Yuma rinsed his clothes for the first time since breaking his arm, but the strong current prevented him from enjoying a full bath. He splashed handfuls of cool water on his face, blinked the sweat out of his eyes, and settled on the bank above where Jasper waded. He still couldn’t quite believe this adventure was real. “What’s the sea like? I’ve only heard tales.”
Jasper had said little on their journey south. “You’ll find out. We’ll be there soon.”
Fleet clambered out of the river and shook. “That’s better. Let’s go.”
Yuma scrambled back onto Fleet, weariness making his pack feel like it was full of stones rather than its true depleted state. They may have access to water now, but his food stores were almost gone.
They trekked on, ascending above sheer cliffs. The ground became stonier and the trees thinned away from the river. From high on the ridge, Yuma peered across to where he had tracked Fleet through the bog. That seemed a lifetime ago. Unable to climb down the steep cliff, the need to find water drove them inland again through dense forest. Tannin-rich creeks trickled through hummocks of moss.
Jasper called a rest at a rare clearing.
Fleet dropped his head to drink and eat as soon as Yuma dismounted. Glad of an opportunity to stretch his legs, he unslung his bow on the chance of encountering game. He wandered from the grazing horses, gathering what he could for the onward journey. Handfuls of tree lichen from the lodgepole pines would store well. Creeping woodsorrel made a tasty snack of fresh leaves. He tucked a long root of ginger inside his medicine pouch, enough for him to enjoy as tea if only they would stop long enough for him to light a fire. Meat would be welcome but he’d seen nothing to shoot, accentuating the lack of Tatuk’s cheerful presence.
As he meandered through the forest, the smell of wet ash and cooking attracted his attention, as if someone had roasted a hog. He advanced with caution, not knowing of any clans living this far south; he didn’t want to surprise a band of hunters.
He dodged from tree to tree, taking care not to sound like a foraging hog. He reached charred ground and balked—hog carcasses lay scattered over an area larger than his village, their bellies ripped open, and their entrails gone. Neither the flesh nor the skins had been touched. Burnt trails snaked from shallow pools to the remains. He hastened back to the clearing to fetch Fleet and Jasper.
Jasper snorted as he paced around the devastation. “This place reeks of stale bloodwolf scent. They’re killing for the sake of it, not to eat.”
Fleet joined them and sniffed the ground. “Yuma, mount up. These trails are from scorcheels. They’re leaving the water to feed.”
Days and nights blurred together. The mass slaughter of hogs became a familiar sight. Yuma had no stomach for shooting meat on the rare occasion they encountered a scurrying squirrel or woodrat. The berries, nuts, and greens he recognised provided just enough to eat. Tatuk’s diamond scale lay cold against his chest. The absence of the dragon’s chittering and teasing was magnified by Fleet’s and Jasper’s solemness. Neither of them spoke, other than essential communication.
With longing, Yuma imagined Gem and Tatuk playing and swimming at Shimmering Lake, such a contrast to the world around him. He tried to conjure the image of jewelled dragons skimming the water into a song, but the words wouldn’t come, and the new pipe he had whittled had yet to feel comfortable in his hands.
Pine sharpened the air as they crushed a carpet of needles on a downward slope. Fleet’s step picked up as a fresh breeze beckoned. The trees gave way to sandy soils and clumps of tufted hairgrass. Dazzling sunshine warmed their spirits. Yuma squinted as they trotted across the rolling hummocks, arriving on top of a high dune, a blue vista stretching from their feet to an indistinct horizon.
He blinked as glinting waves crashed in mesmeric rhythm against the shore. “The songs don’t do justice to the sea. How far does it stretch?”
Jasper led them down to the water’s edge and halted. Salt spray dusted his eyelashes and the tips of his muzzle hairs. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to the other side.”
Fleet lowered his head to drink, and leapt back as if a scorcheel loomed beneath the surface. “It’s salty. Disgusting.”
Jasper tossed his head and curled his lip. “There’s fresh water up the beach. Come on.”
Yuma clung to Fleet as they raced along the firm sand. He had never seen Jasper so joyous, the wind streaming his tail behind him and his powerful muscles rippling. He reached a creek running into a rocky inlet, reared, and neighed to the wind.
Fleet joined in.
Yuma delighted in the sweet water. As Fleet and Jasper strolled away to roll in the sand, he unpacked the last of his food. Tired of dried vegetables and shrivelled fruit, he wandered along the seashore to find mussels or other shellfish in the rock pools. A bed of large clams, similar to the smaller freshwater ones he loved, tempted him to gather an armful of driftwood and light a fire.
He enjoyed his feast and settled against a warm rock. Worries for his family at Waterfalls tussled with the excitement of reaching the ocean. How could he return to village life after experiencing these adventures? But the clans were under threat and he had a duty to share all he’d learned.
A shrill whinny woke him. He leapt to his feet and shook the grogginess from his head.
A short distance away, Fleet stood rigid behind Jasper, facing a sapphire unicorn.
The new arrival’s white mane and tail draped along the sand, his glistening white horn thrust towards Jasper’s chest. “How dare you violate my territory? Begone!”
Jasper backed up a step, bumping into Fleet. “Tempest, don’t you remember me? I’m Jasper. This is my son, Prince Fleet of Foot of Dark Woods. His friend cured my contorted horn. We need to cross to Tern Island and see Moonglow.”
Tempest advanced and struck the ground with a black hoof. Spume blew from his nostrils. “I’ll not listen to your lies. Do you think I can’t smell your evil? Do you think I don’t know what occurs outside Seashore? You’re one of Shadow’s creations, mimicking Jasper.”
Yuma approached with an outstretched hand, hoping to calm the situation. “I’m Yuma of Waterfalls. We’ve travelled far to seek help. I—”
Tempest charged Jasper. Waves crashed in a flood of foam around their hooves. Wind blasted sand against their bodies.
Fleet reared and screamed as Jasper clashed his horn against Tempest’s.
Yuma waved his arms at the unicorns’ heads in an attempt to distract them. “Stop! This is madness!”
Jasper and Tempest locked shoulders to shove each other backwards. Lightning sizzled from Tempest’s horn and bolts of energy sparkled from Jasper’s. Fleet dashed in and bit Tempest on the neck before thudding his heels against the blue ribs.
The unicorn didn’t flinch.
Yuma had to stop the fight. “Fleet, you’re not helping! We need him!”
Fleet backed off and drew a deep breath. “You try to stop them, then.”
Yuma grabbed a double handful of sand and threw it at their heads.
Blinking, they broke apart. Jasper cantered off a short distance and shook.
Tempest glared at Yuma, his black eyes glinting. “It’s a sad day when a man interferes in the business of unicorns. Why are you here?”
“Fleet’s dam had a vision. We found the goddess’s feathers and cured Jasper. Shadow chased us through the barrier. We must find a way to defeat him.”
As he explained in more detail, Tempest relaxed. The wind died down and the waves calmed. The sand settled into drifts.
Jasper waited for Yuma to finish before adding his own tale. “It’s Aureana’s will we’re here. My son and his friend saved me from a life of agony and hiding.”
Doubt lingered in Tempest’s eyes. “So, why didn’t you contact me before you arrived?”
Jasper explained that, despite what they’d always believed, Shadow could listen in to the unicorns’ mind communication. “We witnessed awful ravages across Great Forest. We must seek a prophecy advising what to do.”
Tempest still held his ears back. “Why is there a man with you? Aureana made them to care for coldblood horses, not to aid unicorns.”
Yuma edged closer to Fleet. “Gem asked me to come, and sent Tatuk, one of her dragons, too.”
Tempest checked the skies. “Where is he? Let him relate what’s been happening. Dragons can’t lie.”
Keeping a hand on Fleet’s withers in case he needed to mount in a hurry, Yuma regretted mentioning Tatuk. “He returned to Shimmering Lake, where Gem resides. But he gave me one of his scales.”
Tempest strutted over and inhaled Yuma’s scent. “You don’t have the same evil about you as the other two. Show me.”
Yuma extracted the diamond from where it hung beneath his jerkin.
Tempest sniffed the scale. “Come with me. The aquadragons will know whether it was given or stolen.”
Unsure what Tempest intended, Yuma followed him to the sea’s edge.
“You must go in.”
The waves calmed and lapped at Yuma’s feet. Not wanting to drench his clothing, he stripped and paddled in, the cool water welcoming after the long journey. The shifting sands and pull of the current made him wary. “I don’t like the feel of this. Can the aquadragons come to me?”
Tempest dipped his horn into the water. “You won’t drown. They’re near.” He trotted into the surf and disappeared beneath the waves.
Determined not to go deeper than his knees, Yuma waded into the sea. The sensation of the salt water caressing his legs tempted him further. He plunged into the water, swimming with powerful strokes parallel to the beach. He dived like an otter, relishing the silkiness of the buoyant ocean.
Aquadragons, similar to those he’d swum with at Shimmering Lake, surged around him, blowing bubbles from their long snouts, their leafy appendages wafting as they swam circles. They flowed over his skin like the kelp forest, stroking his arms and legs. The diamond sparkled on its thong around his neck. As he rose for air, a life force flooded through his veins as if he had indulged in Chaytan’s best ale.
Fleet paced on the shore. “I feared you’d been sucked away.”
Yuma grinned. “You should come in!”
Tempest erupted from the water and shook a spray of rainbows from his coat, his mane and tail flowing like spuming waterfalls. The sea flattened to a sheet of blue. “The aquadragons recognise the scale is a gift. We will go to Tern Island tonight, as you request.”