18. The Journey to Babilon
The Journey to Babilon
A few minutes later, the four of us lingered outside the hangar, standing in front of the largest dire horses from the stables. Packs were slung across their wide backs, full of the sheer material the Marshal had ordered us to wear and first aid kits, which medic Sara had made a show of packing.
Sara gave Axel a kiss on the cheek, then sidled up next to me. “Good luck on the mission, Zora.” She showed me a thumbs-up, nudging me like we were close friends.
I tried to smile back, but my face had gone stiff; shame killed.
Just another disagreeable Northern peasant.
Sara stumbled away, her hair blowing on a strange gust of magic. Looking around with confusion, she fell back into formation beside the rest of the soldiers who were watching us leave. I exhaled with relief.
The culprit smirked beside me.
“Chug the Mage juice before you leave,” the Marshal said as soldiers handed each of us a wooden jug, including Tarantula. “You all need your strength.”
The twins greedily sucked on the straws.
I stared at the jug in my hands, and next to me, Tarantula did the same. He slowly brought it up to his lips. So did I. He drank, hollowing his cheeks, and I sipped as fast as I could, trying not to gag.
The twins placed their empty canisters down on the soldier’s tray, wiping the scarlet cherry juice off their lips with contented sighs. Trying not to throw up, I sucked harder on my straw, and judging by the way Tarantula’s face turned green, he felt the same, but he kept drinking.
“Done,” he spat as he dropped his canister.
“Same,” I said quickly as I took a big gulp and put down my empty tankard, trying not to puke. “A tie.”
His nostrils flared. “No, I clearly won. Thou were slower than me—”
“No, you’re mad. I just beat you.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as I gloated.
He’d finished first, but if I could make him think that I really thought I’d won, then that would enrage him and would therefore technically be a win for me. Mentally tormenting men is surprisingly enjoyable.
“You both winners,” Squire chirped, and seeds fell out of his mouth onto my saddle (not helpful).
“Quiet, miniature bird,” Tarantula snapped.
“Don’t you dare speak to him like—”
The Marshal clapped her hands loudly, cutting me off as she looked between us with a pointed expression.
“Good luck on your mission, Mages. Remember, the freedom of Westmere depends on you.” She made the symbol of the one Democratic Commonwealth and stared at me, shaking her head, trying to convey a silent message.
Yeah, I get it. The quest.
Grabbing the saddle, I jumped up. My horse neighed, tossing its head back, silver snorting from its nose as I patted its sleek muscles. Squire chirped with excitement and flapped over, standing sentinel on top of its head, ready to lead the way on another grand adventure.
We cantered as a group at a quick clip out into the desert.
My braid bounced while I struggled to adjust to the brutally fast pace. We were practically flying. Lightness bubbled up inside my stomach, and I laughed despite all my worries. My heart raced with adrenaline as I leaned down low to be more aerodynamic.
Chains reflected light as Tarantula galloped beside me, close enough to reach out and touch. Or kill.
I steered my galloping horse away from his.
He followed.
Squire swiveled his head around, feathers fluttering as he looked back and forth between us, our horses neighing with discomfort at the proximity.
“Get away from me.” I kicked in my heels and tried to lose him, the world blurring.
I needed space to plot.
“No,” he said coldly and matched my pace like he could read my mind. Apparently his sole purpose in life was to annoy me. He was a master of his craft.
The twins spurred their steeds ahead, kicking up sand behind them as they charged forward. They were the only ones who’d traversed to the South before and knew where we were going. They led the way across the sand, toward the canyon.
We settled in for a long, hard ride, but the side of my face prickled as I felt Tarantula’s blistering stare. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to keep my eyes forward.
When we got to the steep canyon, the twins guided us south. The river rushed far below, and magic tingled along my fingers. Pure relief. There was something reassuring about rushing water. The world wasn’t just a barren desert, even if that was how the Scorpion Hole made it feel.
We rode along the smooth stone of the canyon edge for hours.
On each side of the river, stone buildings were carved up into the cliffside, torches lighting the windows.
Rope bridges hung long and dangerous across the canyon, connecting both sides.
I peered over the neck of my sprinting horse.
The desert Communes were like nothing I’d ever seen before.
They didn’t have to build walls like the North because the rock naturally enclosed them.
I leaned farther, half off my saddle as I squinted at the awe-inspiring architecture.
“Sit up straight, Ravenal.” Tarantula pulled forcefully on his reins as he herded my horse away from the canyon’s edge.
I made a mocking face at him. What is his problem?
He rolled his eyes at me as the sun dipped lower.
“Let’s play a game,” Ella called suddenly over her shoulder. She rode a couple horse lengths ahead of us. “I spy something pink.”
“The sunset,” Axel drawled.
Ella nodded. “I spy something white!” she shouted.
“That cloud,” I yelled, and Ella looked back. I pointed at the only one in the sky.
She nodded sagely. “Exactly—you read my mind.”
“I spy something evil,” I said dryly.
Ella furrowed her brow with confusion, and Axel looked meaningfully back at Tarantula.
“Thou fail to amuse me, jester.” A gust of silver wind exploded from Tarantula.
Axel made a Shield and blocked it just in time, twisting in his saddle, expression annoyed. “So damned rude,” he said.
“You get the point,” I said to Axel.
He smiled. “I know.”
“Stop talking to each other,” Tarantula ordered as he rode closer to me.
“Oh, get over yourself.” I subtly pulled on my reins and led my sprinting steed away from Tarantula. He immediately followed, staying close. The short distance was unsafe at this pace. All it would take was one horse to stumble and we’d be thrown to the ground.
I fingered the hilt of my bone dagger, holstered around my thigh, and debated the merits of stabbing him.
“Try it,” Tarantula shouted over the wind, still way too close. “I dare thee.”
I unsheathed the dagger and flung it at him because I wanted to.
A metal chain flashed in my periphery as his shackled wrist shot out with impossible speed, catching it easily. Bone glinted. “Oops,” he drawled as he lazily flipped my dagger one-handed with disturbing agility. “Thou missed.”
I sat up straighter in my saddle, hips rocking as I faced forward, and refused to give him my attention. Maybe he’ll forget I exist. He shouldn’t have been able to react quick enough to catch it from such a short distance away, on a moving horse, but he did. He’s an abomination.
Ella leaned over her horse’s neck, her auburn hair whipping behind her as she glanced back at me with a furrowed brow. She blanched as she saw Tarantula casually spinning my knife.
Axel maneuvered his horse so he was between Tarantula and his sister.
“Are you okay?” Ella mouthed silently at me, even though Tarantula could definitely read her lips.
I started to shake my head no, but my steed jumped over a boulder and my stomach rose with giddiness.
Laughter bubbled up my throat. Just like that, I struggled to remember why I was upset.
Rule of survival: Remember to enjoy the ride.
“I’m wonderful!” I shouted, putting both of my hands in the air, relishing the adrenaline rush as my braid whipped behind me, stomach swooping.
Head clear of thoughts, I was back in the moment.
What a glorious time to be alive. This was almost as fun as snowboarding or falling from a helicopter.
I tipped my head back and laughed louder, savoring the distraction.
I kept forgetting that freedom was a state of mind, and I wasn’t living in a cage.
We’re flying.
Everything blurred as we picked up speed.
A hand wrapped around my arm like a vise. What in the damned? Tarantula rode beside me, powerful hips rolling as he leaned over and held me in a punishing grip. “Stop playing around. Grab on to your reins!”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” I kicked, urging my horse to run away from his.
We veered together.
“Now, Ravenal!” He pointed my dagger at me threateningly.
Our horses neighed, snapping at each other.
Ella shouted something, and Axel cursed.
I gripped my reins with both hands. Tarantula scowled, reluctantly relinquishing his grasp on my arm, putting some space between us.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.
“Thou!”
“I’m not speaking to you.”
“Thou just did.”
Is it really wrong for women to murder men?
Time passed as the desert sand thinned out, low cactus plants sprouting from dirt and rocks.
They grew taller as we headed farther south along the steep canyon.
Hooves pounded in the night. Darkness fell, and starlight filled every inch of the sky.
The temperature dropped as space glittered down on us. A full moon hung large and red.
“Are you done, spider?” I snapped.
Hours had passed, but Tarantula smirked as he continued to play with my dagger.
Diamonds winked from his throat. He spun the knife dexterously between his fingers, his hips still moving with graceful power as he easily matched the rhythm of his steed.
In contrast, sweat dripped down my spine, and I struggled to keep the pace, my lower back burning as my muscles cramped.
“Art thou done being difficult?” he asked.
“You’re a blight on Antichthon,” I said.
“That’s actually a good song title,” Axel added.
“Jester, I told thee not to speak,” Tarantula said coldly.
Axel raised his middle finger.
Tarantula saluted him back.
“You’re the worst,” I mumbled.