Chapter 5
AMAIA
“Amaia,” came the voice, followed by a jostling of my shoulder. I gasped, shaken awake, though it was a mystery how I’d fallen asleep to begin with.
Brune’s hooded eyes were peering off to the left of me, into the yawning darkness of night.
“Look.”
After nearly three constant days on Elthika-back, with very little sleep or privacy, all I wanted was to plant my feet on the ground and never leave it again.
My back hurt something fierce, an unpleasant crick in my neck from being hunched down in an awkward position while sleeping in the saddle.
The constant rhythm of the Elthika’s flight made the hard leather of the seat press into places I would definitely feel in the coming weeks—places I could already feel ache.
I was bruised, I knew. Just like I’d been when I’d first started riding on the backs of pyrokis, only I had a feeling this would be worse.
We were still flying, into the dead of night. While the moon was nearing full brightness, there was a heavy cloud cover tonight that obstructed nearly all of its light. Before I’d fallen asleep, I could make out the tops of trees and the dull shimmer of lakes as we flew over them.
But when I turned my gaze to follow Brune’s, I pressed forward, against the steel of the rail that kept us safely enclosed on the seat.
Just when I thought it might never end, I saw lights below.
A village? I wondered, my lips parting in hopeful, excited awe.
In the distance I saw towering, darkened mountains, their tips and cliffs clean and sharp like blades.
Below were forests, thick and seemingly impenetrable.
When a misty cloud passed by the moon, I saw the light reflect off what I thought was a tumbling waterfall, so massive that I swore I could feel the spray thousands of feet off the ground.
And nestled into a flat valley on the edge of a forest, bracketed by mountains, was a village, not unlike a saruk in Dakkar. An outpost. I could make out the shadowed dwellings and larger structures illuminated by soft golden light.
When I felt the Elthika tilt, swinging in a sharp left to circle back around, I felt my heart leap in relief.
Maybe tonight I would be able to sleep on the earth.
And I never wanted to leave it again. I wanted to press my cheek into the hardened ground, and I would be thankful for the stillness, the calm.
Next to me, Brune groaned, “Thank Kakkari.”
In the front row of the cramped seat saddle, I eyed the backs of the two darukkars’ heads.
They’d said not a word to either of us, had barely even spoken to one another.
Now that we were descending to the village, I realized I had no inkling of an idea of what I was supposed to do once I got there.
But at the moment, I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get off this dragon’s back.
Tomorrow I would worry about the blue-eyed Karath, whose smoky voice had whispered through my mind like a touch. Tomorrow I would worry what that would mean for us, for our mission.
Tonight, however? Food and sleep.
When the Elthika landed with a hard thump onto the earth—in a large clearing a few stone throws around from a perimeter fence, I saw—I nearly sobbed with giddiness.
Brune nearly tumbled again as he clamored down the dragon’s outstretched wing.
At the bottom, he did trip and fall, but he seemed relieved, lying on the ground for a moment, even though the darukkars merely stepped over him.
I was the last to descend, brushing my hand against the Elthika’s scales, thinking that I was grateful it had worked so hard to get us to this place. Its breathing was labored, as if the long journey had been strenuous on it too.
“Please tell me we’re staying put now,” I heard Brune say in a tired voice to the Karag who’d been at the helm of our Elthika. “Please tell me this is Grym.”
“This is not Grym,” the Karag grunted back. “But we are staying.”
Not Grym? I wondered, frowning, my legs shaking as I navigated the large wing of the Elthika. When my feet hit the ground, I could swear my whole body vibrated in pleasure, even as I crouched down beside Brune.
“You all right?” I asked, placing my hand on his back.
I felt his sigh vibrate his entire body, running up my arm.
“Lysi,” he replied. Yes.
He pushed himself up from the ground, and I helped him stand until he found stability in his trembling legs again.
Brune looked around, peering at the perimeter fence and the plethora of Elthika that had landed with their riders nearby. “If we’re not in Grym, then where are we?” he wondered.
“No idea,” I breathed out, wiggling my toes in my boots, needle pricks zinging down my legs from the cramped riding seat.
“This is their outpost for the rider season,” came one of the darukkar’s voices.
I turned to look at him. He was handsome—a full-blooded Dakkari male, from the looks of him…and from the sweeping tail that brushed the ground. One of the Dothikkar’s loyal guards.
“We haven’t gotten a moment alone, so let’s take advantage,” came the other guard’s softened voice. His reddish-brown hair was curled around his tipped ears, his golden eyes flashing in the moonlight.
“I’m Ryak,” the first guardsman said. He had hooded eyes, the color red. His black hair hung to his shoulders, half of it pulled back from his face, secured in a bone clip. I thought it impressive it hadn’t fallen out for the duration of the flight. “This is Nevin.”
“Brune,” the farmer’s son chimed in, placing a hand over his chest.
“And you’re Amaia,” Ryak said, turning his gaze on me before cutting it back to Brune, baring his teeth in a half smile. “We know.”
I heard Brune’s hard swallow, felt the slap of his tail against my leg again.
I hugged my arms around my waist. It was cooler here than in Dothik this time of year, and all I had were the clothes stuffed in my travel pack.
“What are we meant to do, exactly?” I asked Ryak quietly. Because I had a feeling he was the one in charge, not Nevin. If I hadn’t come, it would’ve been my brother at Ryak’s side.
“Whatever we tell you to do,” Ryak answered simply.
I frowned, my shoulders tightening at the cold arrogance in his voice. The way he’d said it set my teeth on edge. And whether it was my exhaustion or frustration from being here in the first place, I didn’t know. Even I knew to hold my tongue, but I simply didn’t care in that moment.
“I came here as a favor to my brother,” I said with gritted teeth. “I did not agree to take orders from one of the Dothikkar’s pets. If you don’t have a plan you can give us, then what in Kakkari’s name are we doing here?”
“Watch yourself,” Ryak murmured, observing me with narrowed eyes. “In Dothik, I could cut out your tongue for speaking to me that way.”
And it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to try it, but I took in a deep breath, especially when I felt Brune’s tail swat at me, this time seemingly intentionally.
“My apologies,” I said woodenly. I added, “Darukkar.”
Ryak let out a sharp breath through his nostrils as he regarded me, tipping his chin back. We would not get along. I could already tell that outright.
“Just relax,” Ryak told me. Told us both. “Get an understanding of your assigned positions. Then we’ll talk.”
They aren’t telling us something, I thought. But it didn’t make sense because I knew my brother wouldn’t have deceived me about coming here. He wouldn’t have lied to me about my purpose here.
So why did I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, especially when I saw Nevin exchange a look with Ryak as they turned from us both?
Brune met my eyes. He shook his head, looking at me beseechingly, as if asking if I was nuts to speak to a guardsman that way.
“Dakkari!” came the voice. A female rider, one I’d seen speaking with the Karath a couple days prior before he’d taken off on his Elthika. I hadn’t seen any sign of him since, which was relieving. Maybe he wouldn’t even be here. Wherever here was. Maybe he was back in Grym, where he belonged.
The rider was beckoning us over, near the fence perimeter of the village. A crowd had started to gather, people inspecting us and murmuring to themselves, despite the late hour.
It was difficult to wrap my head around the fact that I wasn’t in Dakkar anymore. I was in a place where very few of my people had ever stepped foot.
There was excitement at the prospect, especially in regard to working in an Elthikan hatchery. But there was also fear. And now an even deeper sense of paranoia if we were caught doing…whatever the hell we were meant to do.
Only a season, I reminded myself. Take advantage. Then you can go home. Back to your family, back to your pyroki. Back to your life.
And Kiron would be safe.
I felt better knowing that. And so I followed behind Brune when he started to approach the perimeter fence.
The rider waited until all four of us where there.
She peered at the group that had gathered.
Karag looked no different than we did, especially in Dothik where bloodlines mingled.
Some had darker skin, some lighter. Some had tails, some did not.
The coloring of their eyes were all different shades, catching in the moonlight—some blue, some yellow, some red, some brown.
There were both young and old. Children hiding behind their parents’ legs to peer up at us with wide eyes. I smiled down at a boy who couldn’t have been more than five years, and he turned his face to bury it into his mother’s hip, shy.
I thought of my own mother, hoping she wasn’t too worried about me.
My heart was beating quickly, uncomfortable with so many eyes on us after the long flight we’d had.
“These are the exchanges from Dakkar,” the rider announced to the crowd. “And since I know you lot love the gossip, let me assuage some of your curiosity.” She pointed to the guardsmen. “Ryak and Nevin. They’ll be trying their hand at rider training this season.”
I heard snickers and murmurs rise up from the crowd, and I nearly arched in satisfaction at what a blow to Ryak’s ego that would be.
“Better head back to Dothik now, boys,” came a roughened voice. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourselves.”
Laughs erupted, and the female rider bit out a sharp, weary sigh.
Ryak spoke, his arms crossed, voice firm: “I’m claiming an Elthika, or they’ll send my lifeless body back home. There are no other options.”
“That’s if there’s a body to find,” came another voice. “A death fall at Tharken? You’ll be splattered into pieces.”
I nearly shuddered, thinking of Kiron.
“Enough,” the female rider said. She gestured over to me. “This is Amaia. She’ll be training at the hatchery.”
Dozens and dozens of eyes turned to me, momentarily freezing me in place when I was still imagining the horrific vision of my brother falling off the back of an Elthika, his mouth in an open scream.
I inclined my head, dropping my gaze. Luckily no one had anything to say. No baby dragon maulings of their handlers in the hatchery, apparently.
“And this is Brune. He’ll be working the outer croplands for the season.”
Brune’s tail was flicking in apparent nerves, braced for barbed words. His shoulders relaxed when he received none.
“Right.” The female rider sighed. “Rider acolytes”—she gestured to Ryak and Nevin—“you’ll stay in the bunks for now. Erm, Syris? Where is she?”
“Here, Myzalla,” came a soft, husky voice.
A female stepped forward as the crowd parted, dressed in a thick brown dress that brushed the tops of her booted feet.
She had long indigo-colored hair, as dark as the night sky, braided in a neat plait.
Her eyes were yellow, and there was a deep scar running vertically through the outer left of her lips, leaving a gash like a thick seam.
“Ahh,” the female rider murmured. Myzalla, I would endeavor to remember. “You have room in the hatchery, yes?”
“Yes, Beyla stayed in Grym for the season.”
“Good. Take Amaia and get her settled there. Bring her to Tarkosh in the morning.”
My gaze connected with Syris, and she gave me a hesitant smile, one I returned.
“And Brune…Nysa and his son have agreed to let you stay with them for the season. You’ll be working with them closely.”
An older Karag male stepped forward, his silver hair tied at the nape of his neck. There was a streak of mud on his black trousers.
“Well, what are you waiting for? I’ll be sleeping for two days, so no one bother me,” Myzalla barked. Laughs rose from the crowd. I knew the dozens of Karag who were in attendance couldn’t possibly be all of the village we’d seen from above…but it was late.
“Good luck,” I said to Brune when he turned to me.
“See you around?” he asked.
“Of course.”
Then with a deep inhale, though eager for a bed and a meal, I approached Syris, who stood waiting on the outskirts of the crowd.
“You must be tired,” she said when I reached her. She was shy, a little uncertain of her words, which were spoken as if they were a question.
“I am,” I said.
“Follow me, then,” she said after studying me, her eyes flickering across my face. “I’ll show you to your new home.”