Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“They return home to wage a vicious war.”
“Stop.”
Alexandra thunked her head against the wall in her dark room.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Again and again and again. She’d do anything to blur the images of the eyeless dead, and they—them—him—a son will soon return home for his vicious war.
“Augustus,” she whispered, eyelids pinched shut.
“Yes.”
“Will there be sea monsters?” she asked in the pitched tone of a child. His ship was on fire. All, all, all is lost.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunk.
“Find the lost who wished not to be found. Do you see?”
Wait.
Mother.
Wait.
Wait.
“Wait.” The word hissed between her teeth and through the room like a snake’s breath.
She found them and he found her and she is returned and she is someone else. “Eva.”
“Yes.”
“The pieces, they’re all falling into place.”
“Reclaim a connection to love that will strip the power of a mended crown.”
“I can’t see that one.” Not yet.
“You will.”
She would.
“Do you like your gift, my precious?”
A long silence stretched, heavy with breath and dark and dust.
Then—
“I’m going to make you burn.”
An unforgiving cold bit through Kai’s thick furs as the wind howled through the jagged peaks of Black Spear Mountain.
Dryja shook the thick snow layer from her fur and snorted a plume of steam that turned into frozen clouds.
Her heavy hooves crunched across the white terrain, and her thick spikes gleamed under the pale sunlight.
Kai tightened her hold on the reins, and the silence wrapped around her, broken only by the memory of Atsadi’s words, spoken mere days ago. “Usti is the least of our concerns.”
Who would do this to their people, and why would Usti help them?
It was a blessing from the gods that things weren’t as bad as initial reports had stated.
Shadow Water clan had worked fast, and thanks to their quick thinking, the reduction in their water supply only affected some of the lower caverns.
Rationing would be essential in the coming months, however, prioritizing the needs of the healers and the beasts.
This made living together tense but manageable for now.
Atsadi reported to Kai daily regarding the structural damage—a situation he was monitoring closely.
He didn’t have to, but trust had to start somewhere.
It was through him that Kai learned that the sabotage had caused cracks and fissures in the stone supports.
Rising Moon’s builders worked night and day to reinforce the damaged sections, but the work was slow and delicate.
While the main aqueduct remained operational, the auxiliary lines had been compromised, leading to fluctuations in water pressure.
The strain of diverting resources would eventually catch up with them in different ways.
Food supply was becoming a concern as Steel Arrow put more effort into clearing debris than hunting.
Outside trade also dropped in priority while White Spirit focused on internal trade, ensuring distribution didn’t favor one clan over another.
Kai increased security throughout the mountain. No one could do anything without a warrior from Silver Wolf scrutinizing their actions. This heightened tensions, but Kai prioritized safety over comfort. It was better to be safe until this matter was resolved and Usti’s plot was uncovered.
If only she could start her interrogations.
She’d tried—she damn near punched Inola Rising Moon during that meeting.
Without full council support, Kai couldn’t hold Usti or anyone else for mere suspicion.
She needed proof, no matter how small. They might have been more open to Kai bringing him in, but he was a matriarch’s son and firstborn, and that demanded a certain level of respect.
Some council members also argued that she had to focus her resources on protecting the remaining aqueducts.
Another act like that could devastate them.
“Ask Atsadi for help,” Fala had suggested last night. Once she heard the intentions behind his friendship with Usti, she leapt to his defense and thought Kai was wrong to threaten their union. “He’s done everything you’ve asked. He’s stayed away from Usti. His loyalty is to you.”
Kai wanted to believe that—she did. But what if this was all an act? This could be a diversion.
No, for the time being, she would keep things as they were.
Besides, her mother and Misae White Spirit had quietly suggested to Kai that there was another way to handle this.
Tonight, at the clan meeting, Kai would call on the matriarchs publicly to allow her the leniency to begin interrogations.
The people were frightened—they wanted the saboteur caught—and the pressure might force the full council to agree to her terms.
By tomorrow, the men who stood for Usti would be gathered and questioned, and Kai would finally have her answers.
Dryja’s massive head jerked to the side, and Kai followed her gaze.
A flicker of shadow fell against the snow.
“Easy, girl,” she murmured, patting Dryja’s thick neck.
She didn’t want to overreact; it could be her Stormguard. They split up as always and came together when it was time to return to the mountain.
The oxbeast shifted beneath her, muscles rippling.
The wind picked up again, whipping Kai’s long braid over her shoulder. Every part of her tensed—something wasn’t right.
She adjusted the bow strapped to her back, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. The weight of the bone-pommeled blade at her side had never felt more present.
Shadows darted between trees and the snow-covered rocks a mile out.
The wind howled once more, carrying the faintest scent of smoke.
Someone had lit a fire.
Fools.
Kai put a horn to her cold, stiff mouth and blew, her heart a steady but powerful drum.
The call echoed through the frosty air, deep and resonant like the rumble of distant thunder.
The sound seemed to come from the very bones of the mountain before rising to a long, echoing note that made the snow tremble from tree branches.
The call wasn’t just a sound; it was a warning, a summons, and a promise. The time for battle was near.
The shadows of at least a dozen men sprinted out of hiding and moved for the mountain’s entrance.
Kai dug her heels into her oxbeast’s flank. “Home, Dryja. Go!”
The beast whirled, her great head and horns carving the frozen air, and tore across the terrain. Dryja’s powerful body, honed by years of training, brought them well ahead of the invaders.
A mile from the entrance, her Stormguard came together on their beasts, riding alongside each other with weapons at the ready. They asked no questions—there would be time for answers later.
Soon, the massive, weather-beaten columns of the ancient ruins rose from the snow, half-buried or shattered, their once-ornate carvings worn smooth by wind and ice. Kai sent a second horn call ahead to where her warrior sisters guarded the mountain from the crumbling floors.
Kai drew an arrow and notched it to her bow.
To her right and left, her warriors prepared for the battle ahead.
The Broken Axe sisters, Tiponi and Pamuy, twirled battle axes out of their sheaths.
Poloma Quiet Rock spun her poison-tipped spear through the mist above her head before tucking it beneath her arm.
Otekah Silver Wolf, bow and arrow drawn, faced the world with her most feral smile, while Niabi White Spirit pulled ahead on her oxbeast, taking a path to their left as if a single entity.
Kai’s subtle presses of the knee against Dryja led the beast onto a massive staircase that was uneven and coated with ice. They climbed toward the ridges leading into the mountain’s embrace.
In minutes, her Stormguard Legion stood at the ready from different levels of the ruins, facing the misted path below.
The Silver Wolf females who’d already been stationed within left no space unguarded, arrows drawn back by steady arms. They wore the silvery-gray pelts of mountain wolves fastened by bone clasps, and every cloud of breath came in regulated intervals.
Snow blanketed the pass below, and a dense fog hung low in the air. The lines of soldiers appeared like wraiths, their formations uneven as they trampled through the foreign terrain, some areas several feet deep with snow.
They want to close us in, but this isn’t their land.
It’s ours.
Kai smiled. These men might have stood a chance in another land with a more seasonable climate.
Iron breastplates sat over layers of leather and wool, and the harsh wind blew the horsehair atop their helmets across the narrow eye openings in its closed-face design.
Their tunics stopped at their knees, and their leather boots only came up to the tops of their calves.
Worse yet, there was a visible tremble in the sword arms.
By contrast, her warriors held steady and calm. They wore toughened leather lined with fur and sturdy boots made to cross ice. Thick belts cinched their waists, holding all manner of weapons and tools. The toughened leather bracers along their wrists were adorned with swirling, flowing designs.
“By your leave, Commander,” Otekah said to her left, drawing back her bowstring. She had her first target already picked out.
Kai pulled back her own string, her muscles at home with the tension. “Make these males regret ever looking upon our mountain.”
Arrows pierced the fabric of low clouds and through the vulnerable leather of the targeted men.
Niabi and her beast raced along the steep mountainside, the White Spirit female raining arrows down on the exposed soldiers.