5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Caelan
A rbaaz flew towards the Firecaps as our party turned back towards Vaharilar. The line between us felt like a hook in the flesh of my back tugging me west, making the long scar that started on my shoulder blade tighten.
Staying focused on my own body and surroundings was typically the challenge when we were linked. But now, I could hardly access Arbaaz’ vision at all. The line that connected us felt thinner and more brittle than ever. When I sought to see what he saw, the picture was hazy and blurred. It appeared and blinked away again.
By the time Arbaaz reached the Firecaps, I could no longer flap his wings. He flew under his own volition and I was only a witness.
Can you hear me still, my friend?
I received no reply. But I could see through his eyes into the fiery gullet of the volcanic mountain.
The mouth was open like a sore. Bubbles popped inside, but Arbaaz could see no egg. He could not land and smoke obscured his vision. The mountain’s acrid, belching breaths dried his mouth as he breathed the sulfurous air.
Awe and horror warred in me. This pregnancy had progressed far further than Lady Nahome had expected. A god was coming alive again, and soon.
The vision blinked and faded. I reached to retrieve it as my body rode Ufuk towards the River of Madness, but suddenly, the space that Arbaaz always occupied was blank. It was as if I dug in the sands for treasure, but my hands touched nothing but granules and every hole I dug was immediately filled back in.
Panic rose in me at the strange feeling of aloneness , and I counted to beat it back.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Deep breaths.
Return to me. Arbaaz, can you hear me? Return immediately.
The break in our line had happened abruptly. It might be caused by the distance between us, but perhaps he was hurt. If so, what could I do? Nothing.
With our connection broken, would he still fly home? Would he know how? The secrets of altaya had never been written down so I had no guide to offer answers to these questions, which now (too late) burrowed like insects through my mind. I should’ve thought of them before I sent Arbaaz so far from me, but I’d been determined to see the mountain. Now I was alone—truly alone—and so exhausted, I struggled to stay focused on the heat-waves that undulated above the red sands.
Suddenly I felt eyes on me, and I spun to look back at the place where the last pebbles of the hills mingled with the desert. My eyes searched shadows and places of blinding light. But no movement rustled the last razor grasses; no horn tips spiked above the nearby dunes.
“This place is fucked,” Broker said as he rode up beside me. “I miss my vineyards. They’re shady. In case there was any doubt, you owe me a favor. Two.”
“And yet the Losians survive here. The land gives them everything they need,” I said.
Broker snorted. “I don’t see any bottles of red. And I don’t see any Losians. Couldn’t stand up to the Demonhunter.”
“They’re here,” I assured him.
Broker looked straight ahead, his breaths heavy in the heat. “Do you really think this’ll be enough?”
“All we can do is make our report. What my father does with it is up to him. But we beat them before. The dragons, I mean. We can do it again.”
“I meant enough for you to win your way out of the temple.”
I’d never spoken to Broker of my real reason for wanting to lead this mission, but as usual, he’d deduced it. While I blundered through court with a child’s inefficiency, Broker had always navigated the treacherous landscape like it was a field of fragrant flowers.
“It won’t be, you know,” he said when I didn’t answer.
This earned him a dour glare and he laughed. “It’s a very Cael solution. Stab at it until the problem disappears. Haven’t you realized yet that if you want your father to get the message, you have to speak to him in a language he understands?"
To one side of us, Baris made a quick, triumphant sound and awkwardly slid off his alwashi's back. He was the worst rider among us—the one thing he wasn’t good at. Nahome, who rode in front of him, held the alwashi still.
“What—” I began as Baris pounced on a black shape that scurried through a patch of sand. He plucked up the insect and held it aloft for inspection. It was fat and oblong, about as large as a man’s nose. A multicolored exoskeleton sparkled beneath black wings.
Baris popped it into his mouth. It crunched beneath his teeth.
Broker looked nauseous.
“Good protein, and full of water. You find them near ephredrata,” Baris supplied, pointing at a nearby plant with waxy skin and sharp spikes.
“We have plenty of food that isn’t still crawling,” Broker said.
“There’s no such thing as too much sustenance. Not when you’re putting your body through hard riding and sun,” said Junaid.
“I agree,” I said.
Baris dug through the sands and emerged with five more of the disgusting bugs. He passed one up to Nahome, who bit into hers with relish while Broker declined his.
“I really should cut back,” he said, rubbing his gut.
So Baris darted to the ephredrata and plucked some of its small yellow flowers. He offered one to Broker in lieu of the bug.
“You want your cock sucked?” Broker asked as he studied his flower suspiciously.
“Crass,” Baris muttered under his breath.
I was beginning to get antsy, glancing behind us. I’d allowed few breaks since we started home and even these moments felt long.
Broker puffed up his chest. The reddened skin of his cheeks was peeling. “What did you say?”
“Stop it,” I said sharply to them both.
“I just can’t think of another reason why someone would give me flowers,” Broker muttered.
As the sand dunes closed us in, the feeling of being watched dissipated. Probably it was just my unnatural distance from Arbaaz that had unsettled me. I’d not felt so alone since I was a child. Arbaaz was always there in my mind, just waiting to be touched. When I was stressed, I blinked into him and calmed myself with the simplicity of his mind and the freedom of his flight.
It wasn't until evening that I felt him again. He was not there—the corner of my mind where he nested was empty—and then suddenly he was. I was so startled that I let Ufuk’s hooves slip along the sand, sending a cascade to bog down Joab.
“You all right?” I called back as I reached into Arbaaz’ mind to see once again through his eyes. The Firecaps were behind him and the hills below. I let relief flood me for a moment, but it was short-lived. The eagle was exhausted. I’d pushed his body hard for days, and he could not go on at this pace.
I wanted him immediately back at my side. I regretted having sent him away. But I’d spent half the day worrying that I’d lost him forever. I wouldn’t take the chance again.
Come back to me, but take it slow. Hunt. Soar. Regain your strength.
As I sent the command and felt Arbaaz’ relief, I prayed to the Father that I hadn’t just made another mistake.
By midday the following day when the edge of the black glass plains appeared on the horizon, Arbaaz was nearing the sands. He glided faster than an alwashi carrying a rider could travel, for which I was grateful. But he had a ways to go before he'd reach me, and we were soon to enter the most treacherous landscape Los had to offer.
The black glass plains, where Jupe’s light danced on the surface as it did on the Salt Sea, lighting it up with a thousand bright pinpricks. Not a single tree or bush grew there and the air hung with unnatural stillness. The glass was utterly flat, made of large plates, the edges laying over each other. The only sound as we crossed would be the clomping of the alwashis’ hooves on the unforgiving ground.
“Is it my eyes playing tricks, or is everything red?” Broker’s words snapped my attention back from the horizon.
“It isn’t your eyes,” Joab said.
“Hold,” I called.
Junaid and Joab drew weapons.
I stilled my alwashi and twisted, my eyes scanning the dunes. But Nahome and Baris looked up instead. Directly into Jupe’s large red eye.
I risked a glance skyward. With the ground spilling out a uniform red before us and my thoughts far away with Arbaaz and the upcoming plains, I hadn’t noticed that our red sun looked bigger than usual. I took in the whole sky.
“Ksafa is missing,” I said.
Junaid’s throat worked as my words processed.
“The foretold eclipse. Jupe has hidden Ksafa,” Nahome said. She sat utterly still on the alwashi she shared with Baris, betraying not a hint of the panic that had seized me. “Destiny has chosen to mark this moment.”
Blood pounded in my ears as her warning to my father blared in my memory like a trumpet: “The histories tell us that the Rebirth will be heralded by a rare eclipse. The crimson sun Jupe will cover his queen, Ksafa, coloring our world red, the color of blood.”
My eyes fixed on the red overseer in the sky. Not a hint of Ksafa’s warm yellow light spilled out from around Jupe’s edges. Jupe had strangled his young queen completely.
The moment drew out. The reddening of the sky deepened until I felt I was swimming in a river of blood.
“Ride,” Junaid said suddenly, sheathing his blade. His voice shook, the command almost strangled. “Ride!”
Broker, Baris and Nahome took off behind the commander, panic driving their rushed sprint towards the river. Their mounts kicked sand in our faces as they charged forward. Only Joab lingered behind with me.
“Stop!” I called, but my words were snatched away by a rising wind and buried by the pounding of hooves. Either they did not hear, or they did not obey.
There was nothing to do now; our party could not be separated.
I kicked Ufuk’s side and we lurched forward. I fixed my eyes on the horizon line. Black, instead of red. From there, the river. From there, home.
And yet it was unwise to move so fast across the sands. As our alwashi’s hooves pounded the unstable ground, it began to slither beneath us, dunes falling to valleys. It wanted to eat us alive.
I twisted to check on the others. Joab’s face was set in a grimace. The sand I moved flowed like a flood beneath his mount’s hooves, but he kept up as ever, two paces behind. At my side, hardly ahead, Baris and Nahome's alwashi struggled under their weight.
“Race you?” Baris shouted back to me. He would be the only one of us smiling right now. The blanket of red around him gave the smile a crazed look, like one my brother would make. Sand splashed up around the two of us like sharp, stinging water droplets.
But as I watched, their mount fell behind, Baris' control of his seat was not good enough for this wild race. Joab flew past them as Nahome tugged harder on the reins.
I blinked into Arbaaz’ mind. Fly to me now, as fast as you can, I commanded, and I felt his assent. His wings beat, strong and refreshed.
I wanted out of this land of death and destiny.
We reached the black glass plains. My body was jarred by the hardness of the ground as Ufuk’s hooves landed, not on collapsing sands, but on solid glass.
The redness of the sky stood out more here with the black ground twinkling with red light. The world had become a vision of blood and ash. This is what it will look like someday if the dragons rise again. The Mother is warning us.
We raced on. It was spans to the shore of the river and nothing chased us, and yet I knew that we would run for as long as our mounts could take it. I glanced back again to see Baris and Nahome keeping up. They made up the rear, but followed on with determined faces.
Then the glass below our feet began to shake.
“Fuck!” Joab cried.
Kells’ stream of curses was more creative.
“It’s another quake!” Nahome shouted.
I could hardly hear her over the rumble of the Crust.
Before me, a mount whinnied and reared up. A body hit the ground, armor clanging. It was Junaid. His alwashi raced off, leaving him on the ground with Broker riding close behind. The Lord of the Belly tried to turn to avoid trampling the commander, but his mount’s hooves slipped on the glass. A terrible snap sounded and his alwashi tumbled forward, ankle broken. Broker’s face was comically surprised as he and his mount fell, their limbs entwined like their fates. The alwashi landed on his side, crushing Broker beneath his weight. Broker roared.
“All dismount!” I shouted. “Everybody off their mounts now! Get low to the ground!”
Following my own command, I pulled Ufuk up hard and swung my leg over his side. I nearly slipped on my descent, for he danced erratically, trying to keep his balance. His eyes were wild and afraid.
My feet planted on the ground and I held on tight to my reins. If I let Ufuk go, he would bolt, and it would be a long walk back to the river. But I could not get low to the ground when I held him so close. A single unexpected movement from him would crush me.
The ground pitched. Broker’s alwashi rolled, legs flailing. The sound he made was the terrible keening of a dying animal. But as he shifted, Broker managed to squeeze out from beneath him. He didn’t stand; perhaps his own legs were broken. He backed away on shaking palms. Beside him, Junaid was rising to his feet. He took a low stance, his fingers splayed out at his sides for balance.
Joab had reached me and dismounted. He drew his scimitar and kept a grip on his reins with his other hand.
But where were Baris and Nahome? I could not see them. The plains were no longer flat. As I watched, hills formed beneath them like beasts rising from an ancient sleep to stretch their limbs.
Thunder cracked. But it did not come from the sky. It was the Crust that coughed and shuddered like an old man rolling over in his sleep. The sound, like heat thunder, was accompanied by a particularly vicious tremor. I looked down to see a fissure appearing in the glass before my feet. It spread, splitting the land apart as the quake continued.
“Watch!” I roared, my eyes wide as they followed the crevasse appearing in the glass. It was a thin gap at first. It teased me with a view of the ancient red sands beneath. Then it spidered. Smaller cracks branched off the main fissure and spread like greedy fingers. It was a mouth opening to swallow us down and feed us to the rising gods.
“Move, move!” Junaid shouted. He stood closest to the fissure. He prepared to leap away, but a spider branch turned and came for the old commander. It passed beneath him and spread until his legs were split too wide. At the last moment before his consumption, he launched to one side, wincing as he fell hard on his left shoulder.
Broker was still on the ground, but the crack was not coming for him. Instead, it split him off from the rest of us.
“Baris!” I called, seeking the lost nobleman.
But the rumbling of the Crust and the cracking of the land drowned out my voice. The once-flat realm heaved and roiled, vomiting sharp shards and hungry sands. Crystals of glass that had lain flat since last there were dragons turned on their sides and rose into the air like the spikes of a crown. The sand beneath surrounded them like moats that separated us from each other. A sudden lurch threw Joab away from me and he jumped a widening gap to get back, losing his alwashi. The only flat blocks left were the islands that our fragmented party clung to, apart but still alive.
Sand seethed up from the crack between me and Broker. His island twisted and shifted away, a crystal shard rising to block my view of him. Baris and Nahome were gone; I knew not where. And Junaid could not be reached. He shouted to me as the shuddering land pulled him away.
I’d thought Junaid overcome by panic at the time, but his command to run when the eclipse began had saved our lives. If we’d been in the sands when the quake hit, we’d all be dead.
I sent my sight into Arbaaz, using his eyes to track the quake to its place of origin.
The Firecap Mountains, of course.
I risked an unbalancing glance at the sky. It was still a deep crimson. Ksafa’s warm light was stifled behind Jupe’s leering red orb. Destiny had us in her grip, and she was not finished with us yet. We stood alone in a foreign land, caught in the birth pains of a long-dead god reborn.
But we were not alone.
A demon rose from the land before me as if he’d been waiting for his motherland to break and spit him out. He was wrapped in loose red fabrics that protected his skin and blocked his face from my sight. Red and black horns rose from his head outside his wrap. They were the largest I’d ever seen, rising thick and twisted from his skull. The only other thing I could glimpse of him beneath his wrap were the red slits of his eyes. Red as the crumbling sky.
And he was not alone.
Another demon appeared beside him, and then another.
Swearing, I drew my scimitar.