Chapter 13

Fewer than fifteen hundred, little more than half the companions, returned from the battles. Though they defeated a flying force more than twice their size, there was no boasting, no cheers. How could anyone celebrate when they’d paid such a high price to bring down just one of Tanas’ armies? There were many such forces marching through Moriah. The superiority of the companions in battle mattered little if they lost the war to attrition. The only redeeming outcome from the battle was that the Moriahn foot soldiers had suffered few casualties. They were moving back to the capital to regroup.

The day after the companions’ return, a scout arrived with some good news at last. The enemy force, which had landed near the port cities in the southeast, had moved further east, away from the main population centers in that region.

When a second scout reported the next day, they realized the news wasn’t as good as they’d thought. Tanas’ armies in the north had also moved east, while the eastern armies stopped their marches altogether. The enemy wasn’t fleeing but gathering. Few of the eastern scouts showed up to report more on the matter.

“They are gathering the five fastest companions to scout the cities to the north and northeast,” Corban said the morning three days after the Battle of Three Dragons.

Neviah and her friends nodded, thinking he was just passing along information.

“I want Victoria and Enya to go,” he said.

Shocked, Victoria pointed at herself to make sure he wasn’t talking about another Victoria.

“You are the fastest fliers I’ve ever seen. I need you to report to command at once. I’ve already secured your position.”

Enya and Victoria gave a quick “Yes, sir” before saying a quick goodbye and flying into the night. Asa stared after them.

“They’ll be fine,” Rafal said to him. “They aren’t going to fight, and nothing can catch them.” Asa nodded but continued to gaze into the darkness.

“You and I have other business to attend to,” Corban said to his companion before walking across the clearing into the woods. Neviah followed.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You and I have been tasked with a scouting mission of our own.”

“Where are we going?”

“Very far, into the mountains east of Moriah.”

“There are plenty of actual scouts,” Neviah said. “Why don’t they send them?”

“They have,” he said, stopping and looking her in the eye. “None have returned.”

She stared back at him, digesting this new development. Companion scouts were unequaled in stealth or speed. If Neviah and Corban were being sent, then something else was needed.

“What is it?” she pressed, searching his face for any feelings that would tell her what to expect.

“We think the enemy may have found something,” he said.

“Found what exactly?”

“There are artifacts from the Dark Days that could unleash unspeakable evils on the world. We sent the first scouts in when we received word that the enemy was digging.”

A sense of urgency immediately washed over her.

“You feel it too,” Corban said, studying her face. She nodded.

“We have to hurry,” she said as the need to get moving increased. “Every minute matters now.” Without waiting for a reply or for him to lower his shoulder, she grabbed a handful of mane and pulled herself up. In four quick strides, they were airborne. They paused only to grab provisions from camp before taking to the skies again.

As they switched from Alya’s gravity to that of the world below, she looked out over the surrounding countryside. Uru was surrounded by makeshift tents and communities. The refugees were overwhelming the city’s resources. What were they going to do when Tanas’ armies arrived?

Corban flew them south, quickly passing over Moriah’s rocky beaches and out over the ocean. Once they were out of sight of land, Corban turned east. The waves were lazily pushing in toward land, and Neviah could see their winged shadow reflected off the water several feet below.

Fear was a funny thing. Though she’d been flying often lately, her fear of heights threatened her, drawing her thoughts continually to her inevitable death. Trying not to think of the fear was actually making her think of it more. There were plenty of distractions while flying in formation, but flying with just the two of them was sending her brain into overdrive. To calm herself, she reached around to the side pouch on her pack and pulled out a hairbrush.

Even though the wind beat at Corban’s mane, it was matted with days of grime. He had been so busy that he hadn’t bathed in a week. She ran the brush through his long silver hair, starting at the top of the mane and pulling it through the knots. She smiled a few strokes later when she had a straight patch showing among the tangles.

Corban turned his head to look at her and said, “You’re not doing what I think you’re doing, are you?”

She hid the brush behind her back and shrugged. He turned his eyes back to the horizon in front of him, shaking his head and mumbling something about it being a long flight to go.

The sound of thunder brought her attention to the darkening sky. They were flying into a storm. Could lightning strike them in the air? Corban beat his wings, gaining altitude as the thunderclouds approached. They lost visibility as they entered the clouds, the moisture dampening their clothes and fur.

She had to squint against the sudden brightness as they broke free of the clouds to glide just above the storm. Every now and then, the grey clouds would brighten as they flared with lightning, accompanied by a nearly deafening boom. Just before each flash, she felt a slight vibration in her ears, and the hair on her arms stood up. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

Later in the evening, after the storm had passed, they found a mountaintop cave to sleep in. Another day of flying brought them to an island. Both checkpoints were stocked with a few dry foods and contained natural springs, which allowed Neviah to refill one of her empty water skins with fresh water. There was a barrel on the first stop filled with water from Alya, which Corban nearly drained.

On the third day of their journey, she took a long draw from a creek trickling down the island’s single large mountain. Corban drank from the large water skin he carried.

“Today, we reach the edge of our scouting grid,” Corban announced. “We need to remain vigilant. And,” he said, reaching back and running a large paw over his beautifully braided hair, “I need to maintain a certain degree of…formidability.”

“Braids can be scary,” Neviah teased.

He stared at her hard, which she thought looked so adorable with the braids.

“Okay, okay, I’ll fix it while we fly,” she laughed.

By the time she had his mane smoothed out, they were flying over land again. Huge mountains sprang up all around as they glided low between them. The valleys below were covered in dark green conifers. It was beautiful, but the scenic tour was eventually replaced by reality when she spotted a large encampment in the distance.

She pointed it out to Corban, who lowered their flight path until they were skimming the treetops. They banked away from the encampment toward a large, bare mountain. It looked out of place among all the other peaks covered in vegetation.

Corban suddenly wheeled them around and descended into a sparsely wooded area. When they were on the ground, he made the sign for silence and inched forward to the edge of the trees. Beyond the forest was a clearing and mountainside clear-cut of trees. Though the field was devoid of the larger foliage, it was far from empty. Large boulders and debris littered the entire area. It looked as if a giant tiller had run up the side of the mountain.

“Explain,” Neviah signed.

Corban grabbed a strange-looking pinecone off the ground. It was blue and greasy-looking. The Chayya pointed at the mountain, then the pinecone. He broke off the top of the pinecone and pointed between it and the mountain again. Someone was leveling the top of the mountain.

They froze as a tremendous crack thundered through the valley. Neviah looked up to see a car-sized boulder tumbling down the cliff face. It followed the curve of the hills sloping away from the mountain and rolled straight toward them at a tremendous speed. Corban launched them into the air as the boulder’s path became clear to him. It crashed through the trees below them like a giant bowling ball toppling pins.

Corban flew north and began a methodical scan of the surrounding area. Each side of the mountain revealed similar desolation. They had to swing wide when they came upon its eastern face. Hundreds of weather-stained tents of varying sizes were strewn all over the forested area. Tanas’ colors, red and white, adorned several standards. The camp occupied the only ground free of debris. Sure to stay out of visual range of the enemy, Corban flew back and forth several times to take in the layout of the encampment. His eyes were able to see great distances without aid, but Neviah had to pull out her newly issued telescope.

Between the camp and the mountain was a smaller camp that had even shabbier tents. A crude log wall had been constructed all around it. Was it meant to keep people out or in? Maybe the missing scouts were there.

She spotted a steep path zigzagging up the cliff face. There was a pulley system to the side of it. Indiscernible material was being lifted to the top of the mountain, counter-weighted with another lift carrying large rocks.

Corban looked back at her, pointed at his eyes, then at the top of the mountain. She nodded. They needed to know what the excavation was all about. Had the enemy found an artifact? If so, what did that mean?

Corban circled around to the opposite side of the mountain from the encampment. He flew away, deeper into the valley, before turning back to face the behemoth. Rising steeply into the air for several hundred feet and flapping hard enough to make Neviah wonder if she had just suffered whiplash, Corban carried them high into the air. Then, he swooped down toward the earth below.

Their speed increased until they leveled out, the terrain flying by in a blur. By the time they reached the wasteland before the mountain, they were speeding like a bullet, only exposed for the few seconds it took to cross the open ground. Corban hurtled toward the mountainside, showing no signs of slowing.

“Umm!” Neviah let out when she was sure they would smash into the unyielding rock in front of them. At the last possible second, Corban tilted his wings, and they were skimming up the side of the mountain. The ground flew away from them as they climbed ever higher up the side of the cliff.

To calm her racing heart, Neviah pretended like the side of the mountain was actually the ground. Instead of calming her, the thought made her dizzy. Why couldn’t the enemy be looking for artifacts in a tunnel somewhere? Or in a nice quarry?

So perfect was Corban’s speed and timing that by the time their momentum was spent, he had only to step onto a jutting rock without so much as flapping his wings. There was a cacophony of sounds echoing from the area above them. Stepping from Corban’s back and making it a point not to look behind her, Neviah slowly climbed the angled rock in front of them.

Close on her heels was Corban, the only thing between her and the open air behind them. Metal could be heard chipping away at rock, which only grew louder as they neared the excavation. A rock the size of Neviah’s head suddenly appeared over the edge in front of them. She held up her arm to deflect the blow, which would have been useless if it had not been for the Forest Shield. The shield appeared just in time to deflect the rock with a loud crack, knocking her backward. Corban’s strong arms scooped her up and side-stepped the rock as it tumbled out over the cliff.

They froze for a moment, looking like wax figures on exhibit. The crack of the rock against the shield had been deafening. Pebbles tumbled from above the steep stone they occupied as a head peeked over the top. Neviah didn’t know what to do as she met the eyes of a large black man holding a pickax. Then came the biggest surprise of all. The man winked at her and disappeared from view.

Neviah felt Corban’s muscles relax before he set her down. She looked at him, confused. He looked at her as if she were an idiot.

“He is Moriahn,” he whispered.

Neviah remembered the fenced camp they had seen down in the valley. Maybe every black person in that world was Moriahn.

“They are prisoners,” she said.

“Tanas’ men are using them for slave labor.”

“Even in this world,” she mumbled while shaking her head.

“What?” Corban whispered.

“Are we going to rescue them?” she asked, switching to sign language.

“No,” was the return sign. Corban did not elaborate but instead motioned for her to continue up the rock.

As she peeked over the edge of the rock, she saw the man who had winked at her a few yards away. His back was to them, and he was chipping at a large boulder dangerously close to the edge. Torn clothes covered in gray dust hung in rags over his muscular frame. She turned her eyes from the man to the rest of the dig site.

The entire peak had been flattened. Several holes speckled the terrain as some workers dug deeper into the softer areas of the ground. Nearly a hundred Moriahns were scattered around the cleared mountaintop, most swinging a pick or shovel while others hauled debris to the cliff edges. Intermingled with the Moriahns were a handful of guards with the emblem of the red horseman on their breastplates and swords in hand. Men with cocked crossbows stood sentry at the far side of the clearing, the greatest deterrent for a revolt.

Neviah ducked down out of view while Corban had a quick look. Yells erupted, causing Corban to drop his head below the crest of the rock.

“Did they see you?” she signed. He shook his head.

“They found something,” he whispered. His face was stoic, but the trepidation was obvious in his tone. “Something large.”