Chapter 19

NINE MADNESS 1 TO AMASULU When Elin reached the Lazalu Sanctuary, she had asked a servant to deliver her message to Seimiya while she tended to the Royal Beasts. Seimiya read it while waiting for Elin to arrive. The window of her room was slightly open, and the chill night air drifted through. The scent of the outdoors mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed tea. When a maidservant finally ushered Elin into the room, Seimiya stood up from her chair. “I’m glad to see you arrived safely.” Elin dropped to one knee and bowed formally. Seimiya acknowledged her greeting and gestured toward a desk in the center of the room. A large map was spread across it. Seimiya’s eyes were on the map as she walked toward Elin, when suddenly she raised her face. “You smell lovely,” she said. “I do?” “Yes, sweet and somehow delicious.” “Oh.” Elin blushed. “My son gave me some baked sweets for the journey, and I just ate them.” At this, Seimiya’s face relaxed into a smile. Turning once again to the map, however, her expression grew serious. She had already communicated with Elin in writing and so plunged straight into the subject of concern. “The palace is here,” she said placing a finger on the map. “This is Amasulu, and here are the caravan cities.” She moved her finger to each city as she said its name. Imeelu was closest to Amasulu on the grassland highway that led straight from the eastern plains through Imeelu to Amasulu. Hoza was situated above the plains on the northern highway that skirted the edge of a mountain range, while Kasholu was situated south of the plains on the desert highway that passed through the drylands and branched off toward the kingdom of Tolah. Ulamu, which had been taken by the Lahza, as well as Ikishili and Togulamu, were located much farther east near the city of Hajan, which was once the capital of the Hajan kingdom. “Ikishili is on a road leading to the northern highway, while Togulamu is on one leading to the desert highway,” said Seimiya, “and Ulamu is on the grassland highway that passes through the plains.” The terrain through which the grassland highway passed was quite hilly in places, and although there were several small post towns scattered along the route, the only large settlements were Ulamu, followed by Imeelu and then Amasulu. “Our soldiers stationed in Ikishili and Togulamu haven’t reported seeing any Lahza troops. Nor have those in Hoza or Kasholu. We did hear, however, from soldiers in Tsualu over here.” Seimiya pointed to a small post town between Ulamu and Imeelu. “They said there’re about two thousand Lahza cavalry on the move.” Two thousand. The number seemed so huge Elin couldn’t imagine the scale. “The Lahza have been attacking both Ikishili on the northern highway and Togulamu on the desert highway quite frequently. They excel at surprise attacks, and the topography of those areas lends itself to such tactics.” Seimiya stopped and bit her lip. “Shunan once showed me some soldiers who had been wounded in battle.” Elin noticed that she used her husband’s name rather than calling him by his title, the Aluhan. “One young man had lost an eye and another an arm at Hosalu Pass, near Ikishili.” Seimiya’s words brought back a night long ago when Ialu had staggered into the Royal Beast stable, badly wounded, and Elin had hidden him. He’d told her that Shunan had brought some injured soldiers to show the Yojeh. Seimiya stared blankly at the map as if she, too, were lost in memories of the past. Finally, she took a breath and said bluntly, “As you know, I’ve rejected Nozgula’s proposal to cede Ulamu, Ikishili, and Togulamu. Shunan and his advisors thought that Nozgula, having conquered Ulamu without losing any men, would try to take Ikishili and Togulamu next and establish a strong foothold in these three cities, rather than moving to attack us directly. I thought so, too. But it appears we were wrong.” Seimiya traced her finger along the map from Ulamu to Tsualu and then to Imeelu. “As soon as he conquered Ulamu, he moved straight toward Imeelu. He’ll probably try to gain control over the highway that runs through the plains.” She tapped her finger on the place where the word “Imeelu” was written on the map. “Imeelu is just four days by carriage and only two days by horse from Amasulu, our eastern border. If Imeelu falls, it will be a disaster.” She raised her face and gazed at Elin. “We must protect Imeelu at all costs. Our largest Toda force is already stationed there, but we’ve ordered the new Toda troop to join them as well.” She paused for a moment. “Ialu must have reached there by now,” she concluded. Elin nodded. Having worked so hard to build up the new Toda force, Ialu had been appointed second in command. Elin stared at the red spot on the plains that represented Imeelu and imagined Ialu astride a Toda riding into that foreign town, home of the intelligent and beautiful Kuriu, the woman she had met in Yohalu’s hall. “Shunan has set up base in Amasulu territory,” Seimiya said calmly. “Tomorrow, I will leave the palace to go and join him.” Elin stared at her in shock. “Your Majesty?” Seimiya smiled. “If I ride out to join them, the nobles of my territory won’t be able to complain that they’ve been sent off to war.” In her smile, Elin thought she caught a glimpse of Seimiya’s grandmother Halumiya, the previous Yojeh. Seimiya pointed to Amasulu. “You’ve just arrived and haven’t had time to rest, yet I must ask you to lead the Royal Beasts to Amasulu tomorrow night. We’ve already prepared beacons along the road to guide your way.” Elin nodded. “I understand,” she said. In her mind’s eye, she saw the great river that Yohalu had once shown her from the top of a hill. The Amasulu River, across which Shunan’s ancestor, Yaman Hasalu, had ridden the Toda given him by the Yojeh’s ancestor to stop the Hajan invasion; the place near which Yohalu’s ancestor, who came from a valley in the Afon Noah, had built the first Toda village. Now she and Yohalu, descendants of the green-eyed ones, and the Yojeh, descendent of the golden-eyed ones, would converge on Amasulu, where their ancestors had first used Toda to fight for the kingdom. And to that same spot, Elin would take the Royal Beasts. 2 THE CARAVAN CITY IMEELU Imeelu spread along the edge of the River Sahfa. It was surrounded by a high wall with only two entrances: the bridge gate, with a port where riverboats could dock, and the east gate, for merchants arriving via the highway through the eastern plains. Both gates were manned by Lyoza soldiers. When the bells rang the evening hour, the thick gates closed, and no one was allowed to leave or enter until the next morning. Ialu had visited Imeelu twice before, and each time he was struck by the beauty of the white city, which seemed to float like a mirage on the slow, wide river. He guessed that the white walls of the buildings contained crushed quartz, because they sparkled in the sunlight. The thirty Toda stables scattered along the outer wall and the semicircular turrets that jutted out at regular intervals marred the city’s beauty like alien growths. The walkway on top of the thick wall surrounding the town was patrolled by Lyoza soldiers, whose numbers had recently been doubled. Ialu entered the dimly lit Toda stable with the rest of the Blue Armor unit and let his Toda slip into the Pond. “Ialu, come,” his commander, Oluku, said from behind. Ialu followed him to the door. There they quickly removed their tsuppa, thick leather leg guards, and handed them to a servant before exiting the stable. Grooms waited for the two men at the Bridge Gate, leading their horses, and held the stirrups for them to mount. The horses balked and rolled their eyes when they came close, perhaps frightened by the scent of Toda that clung to their bodies. Ialu swung himself into the saddle and gentled his horse immediately. Still struggling with his own mount, Oluku cast him a wry grin. “You must be a Se Zan after all. You look much more at home on a horse than on a Toda.” Ialu smiled. Once the commander had gotten his mount under control, they passed through the gate and into town. The main boulevard that ran through Imeelu from east to west was surprisingly broad and lined on both sides with stores that opened onto the street. But the normally bustling thoroughfare was quiet. Rumor of war had spread quicker than wildfire, and there were far fewer caravans than usual. The people passing along the streets showed great diversity in the shapes of their faces and the clothes they wore. When they reached a large building beside a temple that towered in the center of the town, the commander and Ialu dismounted and, handing the reins to grooms that came running up, climbed the broad stone stairs. Inside, their boots rang on the polished stone floor. With the sound echoing behind them, they strode toward a door guarded by soldiers. “I am Oluku, commander of the new Toda troop, and this is my second, Ialu,” Oluku announced. The guards saluted and opened the doors. Ialu followed Oluku into a large, high-ceilinged room. The windows were open, and sunshine poured in. Potted plants stood in each corner of the room, and red berries on their branches glistened in the light. In the center stood a large desk surrounded by a group of people. They all turned when the two men entered. Ialu’s eyes were drawn first to a tall musician. So that’s Rolan, he thought. He had heard a lot about him, but it was their first meeting. When Ialu introduced himself, he saw a look of surprise and recognition on Rolan’s face. Fatigue was also etched there, indicating the hardship he had been through, but his eyes held a clear light. Beside him stood an elderly woman, tall and slender, and beside her was a middle-aged man. The tattoos on their upper lips showed that they were pathfinders responsible for guiding the affairs of the city. That striking woman must be Kuriu, the one Elin told me about, Ialu thought. She was staring at him, and he bowed in acknowledgment. Her face lit up in a smile, and she inclined her head gracefully. The others on Kuriu’s side of the table were all people who wielded influence, while on the side nearest to Ialu were the governor-general, his deputy, and the general in charge of the entire Toda army in Imeelu. The latter now asked, “Did the regiment of new Toda all make it here without incident?” Oluku saluted sharply and said, “Yes, sir. They all arrived safely.” The general nodded and gestured for him and Ialu to approach. Standing beside him, Ialu saw that small wooden markers had been placed on the map. “The Lahza are now about here.” A red marker, which Ialu assumed represented the Lahza cavalry, had been placed on a spot about two days’ journey from Imeelu. “They’re moving very slowly, but we hear they’ve been plundering villages as they go, so I think we can assume they’ll continue at the same speed. Which means they won’t reach here until the day after tomorrow at the earliest.” Oluku nodded. “Are the Toda troops traveling along with them?” he asked. At this question, everyone in the room looked uncomfortable. The general cleared his throat. “That’s exactly the problem. So far, the Toda army is nowhere to be seen.” Oluku’s head jerked up. “Do you mean you’ve stopped receiving reports from our outposts?” “No. We’ve been getting messages by courier pigeon daily from our soldiers stationed along the highway. The Lahza cavalry are avoiding our Toda garrisons as they approach. Seems like they don’t want to lose any of their force before attacking Imeelu. As there’s been no combat yet, my guess is that these reports are accurate. Plus our scouts have been bringing news as well. But there’s been nothing to indicate the presence of a Toda army anywhere near the highway.” The general’s thick eyebrows came together in a frown, and he cast Rolan a quick glance. Rolan had remained silent throughout, but now his lips curved in a wry smile. “You all think I was deceived, don’t you? You think that Nozgula’s clever right-hand man, Ozkula, showed me what he wanted me to see, completely fooling me into believing I’d seen Lahza Toda Riders.” The governor-general spoke placatingly. “No one would blame you if that was true. Under those conditions, there was no way for you to check whether they had just left a few of our Toda alive and put Lahza soldiers on them for you to see.” Rolan shook his head slowly. “I may have chosen to become a musician, but I am still the adopted son of Yohalu Amasulu of the Black Armor. As such, I have seen many Toda at close quarters ever since I was a child. I am convinced that what I told you is true. Those were not our Toda. The color of their scales and their build were different, even if that difference was slight.” The general cleared his throat. “But the inside of the Toda stable was quite dark, wasn’t it?” Rolan turned to look at him. “Yes, it was. But there was the light of several torches to see by.” The governor-general raised his hand, silencing them. “Whatever the case, as I said earlier, our first priority is to decide how to defend ourselves against the two thousand Lahza cavalrymen headed toward us. At the same time, we must keep our minds open to the possibility that there is a Lahza Toda army. That will have to do for now.” After that, the governor-general and the general took the lead in discussing how to protect Imeelu. When they had reached a conclusion, Kuriu spoke up. Her tone was mild but firm. “My dear comrades from Lyoza, I and the people of Imeelu are sincerely grateful to you for protecting our city. For that very reason, I believe we should share with you the truth of our situation. May I have your permission to do so?” The governor-general nodded. “Of course, Lady Kuriu. Frank communication between us is crucial, particularly at such a time as this. Please tell us what you have to say.” “Thank you. I must regretfully inform you that it has become extremely difficult to gather goats.” Those assembled looked puzzled at first, but then understanding dawned on their faces. “You’re talking about feeding the Toda, aren’t you?” the governor-general said. “Yes. We sent notices to nomadic herders in this area requesting them to supply us with goats. But they consider their livestock precious property. Rumors that the Lahza are going to invade have spread quickly, and many nomads are heading deep into the mountains with their herds. Some of the craftier herders have come to us, guessing that their livestock will sell for a higher price. But they’re asking twice the normal rate. On top of that”—Kuriu flicked her eyes toward Ialu—“a fresh Toda regiment has arrived so we now have three times the number of Toda to feed.” The governor-general groaned. In times of war, the caravan cities were responsible for providing food for the Toda. Under these circumstances, however, this would clearly be an oppressive burden on the local people. Considering what had happened at Ulamu, they needed to avoid turning the local people against them. “I understand,” the governor-general said. “We’ll consult about this immediately.” “Thank you,” Kuriu said with a gracious smile. 3 SUBTERRANEAN RIVER By the time the council of war ended, the sun was already tilting in the sky. Ialu was following Oluku to the door, when someone called out to them from behind. Turning, he saw Rolan approaching with his lakkalu slung over his back. “May I come with you?” he asked Oluku. “I’d like to see the new Toda breed.” Oluku, who was from Amasulu and served Rolan’s father, knew Rolan well. “Of course,” he answered casually, and Rolan fell into step beside them. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said to Ialu. “I’m Rolan Amasulu.” “I’m Ialu. My wife has told me that she’s in your debt.” At this, Rolan’s eyes twinkled. “What?” Ialu asked. Rolan blushed. “My apologies. It’s just that I’ve heard so much about the swift-footed Ialu. I was expecting someone a little more imposing, not as quiet as you.” Ialu’s lips twitched in a wry smile, and Rolan smiled in return, looking a little embarrassed, perhaps realizing he’d been rather blunt. “They often say,” he added, “that man and wife resemble each other. There’s something about you that reminds me of Elin.” Ialu’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” “Yes, though I can’t quite put my finger on it.” They went down the steps to the plaza in front of the shrine. Rolan stopped and squinted up at the soaring temple. Great white pillars rose at the top of the broad staircase supporting the large roof. But it was the shape of the roof that drew the eye. Tiled with white slates embedded with blue and green polished stones, it was shaped like the prow of a ship. As he gazed at it, Ialu thought of the Shalamu people, who had built Imeelu. They had accumulated tremendous wealth doing trade on the great river. He remembered hearing that they had designed the city as a large ship and built the temple as a prayer for a safe voyage. The plaza was almost empty. On the wind, he heard a warbling so sweet and clear, he searched to see where it came from. Rolan pointed to the temple pillars. “There’s a bird cage attached to each one. What you just heard is the song of the rihan, a beautiful sky-blue bird. The god of this temple loves music, and many musicians come to donate instruments. My grandfather was a traveling musician who always came here on the festival day. And this is where he died.” The westering sun shone on the roof with a dazzling light. Shading his eyes with his hand, Rolan said, “I found him under that round pillar there. He was cut down. A tribe of Lahza warriors broke through the gate, and he got caught in the conflict. There were fires scattered all over the city that night. I was only nine and had run into the temple to escape. My father was protecting the city with the Black Armor unit when he rescued me.” He sighed and turned away from the temple. “That was more than twenty years ago.” They mounted their horses and proceeded along the main road, which was filled with foreign scents. Ialu’s thoughts drifted to the musician riding beside him, to the prosperous city over which foreign powers continued to fight for control, and to the many people who flocked to it. In some distant future, when the present became the past, would travelers passing through talk of the battle that took place here? Entering the Toda stable where the new breed was kept, Rolan winced. “What’s wrong?” Ialu asked. “Can’t you hear it?” Rolan said, still grimacing. Ialu looked at him in surprise. “You mean you can hear something?” “Well, not ‘hear’ exactly. It’s more like a sensation in the middle of my forehead.” He rested his gaze on the Toda swimming in the pond. They swam round and round, perhaps unnerved by their new environment. “We’ve also experienced that sensation,” Ialu said, “although we don’t hear it as a sound. The Toda seem to emit something inaudible to our ears. Particularly when they’re agitated. It goes away when they calm down.” While he was speaking, the Toda’s pace began to slow. “Ah, you’re right,” Rolan whispered. He lowered his hands, which he had been pressing against his temples. The Toda swam to the edge of the pond and crawled up one after the other onto a shallowly submerged ledge. There they stretched out, with their stomachs and jaws still underwater, and closed their eyes. Looking at their exposed backs, Rolan’s expression sharpened. “Is that the color of the new breed?” he asked. “Yes.” Rolan turned his gaze to Ialu and then Oluku. A fierce light gleamed in his eyes. “Their color, and their build as well, are very like the Toda the Lahza rode in Ulamu, although theirs were a little smaller.” Oluku’s brows shot up. “Are you sure?” “Yes. And now that I think of it, I heard the same sound in that Pond. Or not so much a sound as a vibration that set my teeth on edge.” Ialu and Oluku looked at each other. “But that can’t be,” Oluku protested. “We only managed to develop these Toda recently through repeated trial and error. They couldn’t have developed such Toda with the skills shared by the Steward they abducted from Oohan village.” Rohan shook his head. “You’re right that if a Steward of Oohan had raised them, they would’ve been small and black, but the Toda I saw weren’t like that.” “In Lahza,” Ialu said quietly, “there were never any rules for raising Toda. If they took what they learned from the Steward and experimented with it freely, adding their own ideas, it wouldn’t be strange for them to end up with a similar type.” Oluku stared at Ialu in disbelief. If the Lahza had raised them in the way Ialu suggested, they could have bred a thousand by now. Oluku shifted his gaze to Rolan. “I can only pray that you were mistaken in what you saw,” he said. At that moment, a soldier named Tohlu entered the stable. Although he had been born and raised in Amasulu, his merchant mother was an Asheh like Rolan. Tohlu could speak Asheh and Shalamu fluently, which made him the troop’s prized interpreter. When he saw Ialu, a look of relief suffused his face. He bowed and said, “May I speak with you for a moment?” Ialu cocked an eyebrow at him. “Me? Of course, but why?” “It may not be that important, but still, I thought I should tell you.” Guessing that it would be hard for him to talk freely in front of the commander, Ialu led Tohlu to a corner of the stable. “As I said, it really may be nothing at all, but something’s been bothering me.” “Go ahead. Tell me,” Ialu urged him. “I was just talking with the men who bring food supplies for our troops when an Asheh shepherd happened to walk by. He complained that our soldiers were letting the Toda loose in the river and demanded that we stop.” Ialu frowned. “In the river? But we don’t do that, right?” “That’s right. I was going to brush him off, thinking he was just an idiot, but we’ve been told to maintain good relations with the locals. So instead, I asked him questions and listened to his story. He wasn’t talking about the Sahfa, but a different river, in the hills far to the north. He said his goats are afraid to go near that river because it reeks of Toda. He was quite upset that the goats wouldn’t drink the water.” An icy chill spread through Ialu’s chest. A river in the northern hills! He stared at the young man for a moment, then turned on his heel. “Come with me,” he said. Striding over to the commander and Rolan, he called out to them. “Pardon me for interrupting, but please follow me.” Oluku cast Ialu a puzzled look. “What’s going on?” “One of the nomadic herders said that the water in a river up in the northern hills smells of Toda.” “What!” “I’m going to check where that river is on the map. Please come.” Oluku nodded, and Rolan fell in behind. They left the stable and entered the fort. Some scouts were poring over a map. “Could you help me a moment?” Ialu asked. The scouts looked surprised to be addressed so suddenly by their superiors, but they quickly stepped aside so that Ialu and the others could see the map. “Tohlu,” Ialu said. “Show me the river the herder was talking about.” Tohlu frowned as his eyes swept the map. “Um, I think he called it Tsukalu.” “Tsukalu?” Rolan said. “That means ‘trout’ in the local language. In the Shalamu language it would be ‘tohkool.’” He pointed to a hill a little northwest, rather than due north. “Here it is,” he said. “That’s Tohkool River.” Ialu ran his eyes swiftly along the river to see where it led, then he raised his face and looked at his commander. “I think we may have fallen straight into the Lahza’s trap,” he said. Oluku paled. The river flowed through the hills to join a tributary of the Amasulu. “The cavalry advancing along the road through the plains may just be a feint,” said Ialu. Oluku groaned. “You think they’ve drawn the main Lyoza force to Imeelu while they swing around behind us to attack Amasulu directly?” The other soldiers in the room stared dumbly at the officers. “But that’s a lousy strategy,” Oluku protested. “Even if they have their own Toda troops, they’ve never been tested in battle. To attack Amasulu where the Aluhan’s army lies in wait? And without any cavalry or archers for backup? They’ll just lose their precious Toda army.” “They may be thinking in longer terms than that,” Rolan murmured. Oluku frowned. “What do you mean?” “Amasulu is a symbol. It’s the field where the Hajan fought the battle that resulted in their defeat and destruction. For us, it’s a field of glory, but for the Hajan, it’s a field of shame. Maybe the Lahza want to demonstrate to caravan cities like Togulamu and Ikishili that they already have a Toda army capable of directly attacking Amasulu.” His face pinched, Rolan continued, “Like Ulamu, Ikishili and Togulamu were built by the Hajan. They’ve never really accepted us. If the Lahza can attack Amasulu, the place associated with the Hajan’s shame, they’re bound to move the hearts of the Hajan.” “But if they lose, there’s no point,” Oluku said. “Yes, there is,” Rolan said impatiently. “They may attack even though they know they’re likely to lose. Maybe it’s hard for you to understand because you’ve never lived with the people of those cities, but deep down, they hate the Lyoza. On the surface, they obey us because they’re cowed by the overwhelming force of our Toda army. But that just makes their resentment stronger and more twisted.” “Like the Sai Gamulu,” whispered Ialu. Oluku and the scouts jerked their heads to stare at him. He turned to them and said quietly, “I think you in particular would understand. It’s the same feeling the people of Aluhan territory have felt toward the Yojeh’s nobles for generations. A firmly rooted, complex resentment toward those who benefit like parasites from your sacrifices.” The room fell silent. “If that’s how the Hajan feel about us,” Ialu said flatly, “when the Lahza, mounted on their own Toda, charge our army at Amasulu, they’ll rejoice.” Ialu looked at Rolan. “That’s what you meant when you said they might be prepared to lose this battle, isn’t it? Even if they lose, they’ll have tested their Toda army against ours. And in doing so, they’ll have captured the hearts of the Hajan in Togulamu and Ikishili. In the long run, they have much to gain.” Rolan nodded. “Exactly! That’s what I was trying to say. I’m sure you’ve heard the Hajan expression ‘uri kimu.’ ‘Uri’ means ‘the heart,’ and ‘kimu’ means ‘to show.’ Literally, it means to show your sincerity. But it’s much harsher than it sounds. If you claim to be speaking and acting sincerely but in fact are not, the Hajan will never trust you again, ever. If, however, you do what you promise, even at great personal sacrifice, they’ll put absolute and almost fanatical trust in you. The Lahza understand this characteristic of the Hajan very well. “By attacking Amasulu, the symbol of Hajan’s shame, even though it may mean self-destruction, the Lahza will have demonstrated to the Hajan how seriously they take their past humiliation at our hands and the kind of relationship they intend to build with them.” From the others’ expressions, it was clear that his explanation still wasn’t getting through. Rolan leaned forward. “Don’t you see? The Hajan living in Togulamu and Ikishili hate the Lyoza, but that doesn’t mean they like the Lahza. While they may hate us as their conquerors, they’ve been under our protection for a long time and are used to the way we do things. They’ll have significant doubts about welcoming new rulers.” Understanding began to glimmer in Oluku’s face, and Rolan continued more confidently. “For the Lahza, the support of the Hajan, who run those three caravan cities, is crucial, because it’s a long way from the Lahza’s home base to Lyoza. A very, very long way. Without support and supplies from the Hajan, the idea of them launching a serious invasion of our kingdom is no more than a dream of a dream. They won’t get anywhere if they continue fighting small skirmishes near our protectorates the way they’ve been doing so far.” Rolan looked Oluku in the eye. “Now that we know the Lahza have their own Toda army, they can’t take Togulamu or Ikishili by surprise the way they did Ulamu. But if they can win all the inhabitants of those cities over to their side, we’ll lose the advantage we’ve enjoyed so far. Do you see?” Oluku’s eyes narrowed, and he looked down at the map. The caravan cities were very far from home. It was the people of those cities who kept Lyoza’s troops supplied with food, water, and lodgings. And it was thanks to that firm foothold that they had never before lost to the Lahza. If the people of those cities were to become their enemies, that foothold would crumble. One by one, Rolan pointed to the caravan cities. “If the Lahza can gain control over Togulamu and Ikishili, just as they’ve done in Ulamu, they can raise up an expeditionary force to attack Hoza, Kasholu, and Imeelu. And once they take Imeelu, they can attack our kingdom. “To gain the advantage over Lyoza, they need to demonstrate their sincerity to the Hajan of Ikishili and Togulamu and win them over. An attack on Amasulu, even if it means the loss of two thousand Toda and their Riders, would be a significant strike in their favor.” For some time, Oluku stared intently at the map without speaking. Finally, he raised his eyes and looked at Ialu. “It could be that this is true. But right now, it’s still just a possibility. It would be too risky to move our troops on the basis of a single herder’s report. Ialu, take several men up to this river and see if you can find any traces of Toda.” Clicking his heels together, Ialu saluted, then beckoned the others to come with him. Time was of the essence. Ialu spurred his horse toward the hills, racing the sun as it slid down the sky and dyed the grasslands red. Just as the world around him began to melt into dusk, a cluster of hills came into view. Mostly bare rock with only sparse clumps of grass, the hills were fading into mauve. Ialu found it hard to believe there could be a river among such rocky outcrops, but as he approached their shadow, the smell of water reached him on the wind. Rolan led the way over the bumpy terrain, his horse pushing through the scraggly shrubs. Following after, Ialu heard the gurgling of water. They passed through a field of waving reeds and stepped out onto a riverbank. A sweet scent wafted toward them. Toda. Ialu called out softly to Rolan, then gestured for everyone to dismount. Tying their horses’ reins to nearby shrubs, the scouts spread out in four directions and came back stealthily. “No signs of anyone here,” they reported. Ialu nodded. There may not be any men here, he thought, but the smell of Toda lingered. “Light the lanterns,” he ordered. “Cover the tops so that the light doesn’t escape. Search for traces of Toda, particularly on the stones in the river.” Even in the dark, such traces were easily found. Many of the rocks had been scraped by sharp claws. The shallows also showed the marks of multiple claws where they’d scratched the bottom, and the tracks of running Toda were discernable along the banks. There must have been so many that they couldn’t all fit in the river. At least several hundred, Ialu thought. The sun had vanished, and the icy wind seeped through Ialu’s skin. Shivering, he turned his face heavenward. Even if they rode the Toda through the night, it would take his regiment two days to reach Amasulu. Let us be in time! With this plea in his heart, Ialu leaped onto his horse, gesturing for the men to follow. 4 IN THE CAMP Hemp curtains had been stretched on poles to create enclosures on a hill overlooking the Amasulu River. Standing outside the entrance to the largest enclosure, Yohalu called out, “Elin, I have brought His Excellency, the Aluhan. We’re coming in.” The instant he grasped the curtain, however, loud growls rose from inside, and he froze with the cloth still clutched in his fist. Footsteps sounded from inside, and he heard Elin speak. “Hush now.” Although her voice was not loud, the growling ceased instantly. Yohalu, however, remained rooted to the spot, goosebumps prickling his scalp. Elin raised the entrance flap. “My apologies,” she said. “Please come in.” Yohalu cleared his throat. “His Excellency is with me. Is it all right for both of us to enter?” Elin smiled. “Of course. However, I must ask that you stay just inside the entrance without coming in any farther. This curtain is really the outer limit of their territory, and you both smell of Toda.” “Ah, I see.” Yohalu wiped the sweat from his brow and ducked cautiously under the curtain with Shunan following behind. Once inside, they were rendered speechless. A Royal Beast towered in front of them, and more stood behind it, each separated from the others by an even interval. Hackles raised, teeth bared, eyes flashing, they glared down at the two men. “Shhh-shhh.” Elin made soothing noises as if calming a child until the Beasts gradually settled. At last, they averted their eyes and began licking the fur on their chests. His face tense, Shunan whispered to Elin, “Is it all right to talk here?” Elin smiled apologetically. “Yes, but please refrain from making any sudden moves.” Shunan let out a slow breath. When angered, a Royal Beast could devour a person from the waist up in a single bite. Standing before them, Shunan felt that possibility so acutely, he could hardly breathe. “Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. I thought Toda were frightening, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. Not even when I rode on Leelan’s back all those years ago.” Shunan’s lips crooked. “I just wanted to see them, and never gave it a second thought. But now I’m petrified.” Yohalu nodded, his eyes glued to the Royal Beasts. “Me too. I still have goosebumps.” He shook his head. “They truly are the king of beasts.” Elin placed the feed pail she had been holding in one hand on the grass, and the two men looked at her as though waking from a dream. “Oh,” Yohalu said. “I forgot. Part of the reason we came here was to tell you that Her Majesty, the Yojeh, has arrived and asks if she can visit the Royal Beasts now.” Elin nodded. “Yes, certainly.” Yohalu lifted the flap and went outside. Not long after, voices approached. Hearing Yohalu warning the Yojeh to be sure to keep her voice low, Shunan and Elin caught each other’s eyes and smiled. “Elin, may I come in?” Seimiya asked. Elin reached out and raised the cloth. “Yes, please do.” Seimiya ducked inside. The Royal Beasts raised their heads to look at her, but instead of growling, they regarded her silently. “Well, that’s a surprise,” Shunan murmured. “They don’t growl at you.” Seimiya put a hand to her heart as though relieved. “You still remember me, do you?” she said to the Beasts. “I’m so glad.” Holding the Silent Whistle ready, Elin took the Yojeh’s hand and led her to Leelan. Shunan and Yohalu tensed as they watched them walk so close to Leelan they could have touched her. Seimiya raised her head to look up into the Beast’s face. Picking her harp up from the grass, Elin passed it to Seimiya, who looked at her with a surprised expression. “Please. Speak to them,” Elin urged her. Seimiya nodded. Hesitantly, she began plucking the strings. Leelan cocked her head and listened, then slowly she began to wave her head and sing notes very similar to those Seimiya played on the harp. Seimiya’s eyes widened. The sound of the harp mingled with Leelan’s song, becoming one voice. Tears welled in Seimiya’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Gently she placed a hand on the strings to still them. “Thank you, Leelan,” she said. When the Yojeh and the Aluhan left, Yohalu remained behind. He told Elin to carry on with her chores, saying that he just wanted to look at the Royal Beasts a little longer. Elin began her regular routine, but as she passed Kalu, he lowered his head and butted her in the shoulder with his nose. She staggered. “Kalu, stop that,” she said, pushing his nose away. He wanted her to pet him. The eldest son of Leelan and Eku, he had always wanted attention as a cub. Although he was now grown, he hadn’t changed. Rubbing the side of his nose, she thought that if they could return home, she’d like to give him his own territory. She was sure he’d make a good, affectionate father, like Eku. She began raking together the manure with a hoe. “Surely there’s no need to do that here in the field,” Yohalu said in a surprised tone. Elin stretched her back and looked at him. “In such a small space, to leave it messy will make them irritable. The odor of manure and urine is what they use to mark their territory. Besides, the manure tells me a lot about their physical condition.” She gathered the manure into one spot and examined it, then dumped it into a pit dug in a corner of the enclosure. Yohalu watched her silently for a while. “You seem very calm,” he remarked. Elin turned. “Is that how I appear to you?” “You mean you’re not?” he asked. Elin gave a wry smile. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” Yohalu grinned. “I see. But there’s no need for you to worry. I doubt you’ll need to fly the Royal Beasts. Although we asked you to come here, the defenses at Imeelu are impenetrable. Even if the Lahza have a Toda army, such untried troops couldn’t possibly defeat our battle-hardened forces.” Elin listened silently, resting her hoe on the ground. “Although I’m sure you object to us breeding Toda at all,” Yohalu continued, “the new breed has incredible mobility and striking capacity. With them on our side, you’ll never need to fly the Royal Beasts to war.” Elin shifted her gaze from Yohalu and looked up at Kalu beside her. “From the day I lost my mother,” she said quietly, “I decided not to believe in lasting happiness, but instead, to prepare for the misfortune that was bound to come. That’s how I have lived my life.” A faint smile touched her lips. “I don’t like to be caught off guard by fate. I’m really a coward at heart.” “That’s an important mentality,” Yohalu said gently. “But tonight, you can rest easy. I’ll have them bring you a nightcap to help you sleep.” Elin smiled. “Thank you,” she said. After Yohalu left, the breeze creaking in the branches of distant trees and the flapping of the camp enclosures sounded loud in Elin’s ears. She walked over to Leelan and pressed her face against her belly, just as she had done when she was a child. The soft warmth of Leelan’s fur and the rumble of her breathing calmed Elin’s mind like waves lapping the shore. To live was such a simple thing. This thought rose in her mind, then receded. Elin’s eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps running by the enclosure where she slept. It was still dark but the shadows of people outside, backlit by torches, flitted across the curtains. She reached for her clothes, which lay folded beside her pillow. She had just finished dressing when she heard a man’s voice. “Lady Elin, are you awake?” “Yes,” she responded. “You are requested to come immediately. I will wait here to accompany you, so please come out once you are ready.” Slipping her feet into her shoes, Elin stepped outside. “I’m ready,” she said. “Please lead me there.” Whatever had happened, it had thrown the whole camp into an uproar. Lanterns burned brightly in the large enclosure that housed the Yojeh and the Aluhan, and grim-faced soldiers surrounded it. When Elin’s arrival was announced, the flap was raised immediately. It was so bright inside that her eyes were momentarily dazzled. “Elin, over here,” Yohalu said. He took her arm and drew her to the large table in the center. The Yojeh and the Aluhan stood across from her flanked by the warlords of Aluhan territory. The nobles from Yojeh territory stumbled into the space after Elin, many of them rubbing swollen eyes, as if they had been rudely awakened from a deep sleep. From their disheveled hair and hastily tied belts, it was clear that many of them had never had to get ready on such short notice. To be summoned in the middle of the night like this would have seemed very rushed indeed. After confirming that everyone was present, the Aluhan said, “A short while ago we received an urgent message via Lord Yohalu’s hall. A report arrived there by courier pigeon from a lookout tower on the banks of the Makan River. A host of Lahza was seen coming down the river mounted on Toda.” The nobles erupted in loud exclamations, but the Aluhan’s solemn voice cut through the clamor. “The two thousand Lahza horsemen advancing through the plains appear to have been a ruse. The enemy’s main force is heading straight here to Amasulu.” The nobles froze, robbed of speech. With his eyes fixed on their faces, the Aluhan said, “I’ve already explained the situation to our commanders and ordered the Toda troops that remained here to prepare to move out to the Amasulu River. The main force will be led by Muhan of the Black Armor, son-in-law of the lord of Amasulu.” When the Aluhan finished speaking, the Yojeh looked at each of the nobles. “It’s time to go to war,” she said. The nobles stared at her with stunned expressions. Until this moment, they and their families had condemned war as unclean, while believing it was their inherent right to profit from bloodshed. Each family had been ordered to send one representative. Many had chosen to send their second or third sons, but some, afraid to lose any of their heirs, had come in person, leaving their eldest in charge. The Yojeh urged them to look at the map. “You’ve all brought a company of archers with you. Lead them upstream from where our Toda troops will defend the river.” She pointed to a spot on the map. “The forest cover is quite thick here, making it hard to land. To leave the river, the Lahza will ride beyond this point to the shallows downstream. Tell the archers to shoot the Lahza as they ride their Toda past them.” Looking at their pale, silent faces, Seimiya continued, her voice firm. “Once you’ve positioned the archers among the trees, lead your cavalry to close off the rear of the Toda troops. The city of Amasulu must be defended at all costs.” She waited until they had nodded their assent, then turned toward Elin. “Elin,” she said. “Stand by on the hilltop with the Royal Beasts ready to fly at a moment’s notice.” She paused for a moment, her fair porcelain-like features taut and strained, making her look like a stranger. “I’m sure the seasoned troops of our kingdom will never be defeated by the inexperienced Lahza,” she said. “But even so, we should be prepared.” Elin returned her gaze steadily. “I understand,” she said. “Your Majesty,” Yohalu said in a low voice. “Please allow me to speak as a former member of the Black Armor. At this time of year, the temperature drops dramatically before dawn. Our Toda won’t move until the air warms up, even if we pull on their horns and order them to. I’m sure those ridden by the Lahza are the same. The Lahza will likely have made camp and be letting their Toda rest on the riverbanks.” The Aluhan nodded. “Yes, before dawn will be the perfect chance for the archers to catch them off guard.” The Yojeh waved a hand at the nobles. “You heard him. Gather your men and move out!” The nobles bowed, then hurried from the room. After watching them leave, the Aluhan turned to the warlords. “You know what you need to do. They won’t be able to manage on their own. Take your archers there, too.” The men saluted and left. Elin was following after them when the Aluhan called her name. She stopped and looked at him. “Rest until dawn,” he said. “It’s quite far from the Makan River to Amasulu. The enemy won’t reach here until after sunrise.” “Thank you,” she said. “I will do so.” She bowed deeply to the Aluhan and the Yojeh, nodded to Yohalu, and left. The night air was cold and clear, and her breath turned white. Far off across the dark plains she could see the low shadows of the mountains. And far beyond them was Ialu. Stay safe, she thought. The words rose in her mind like a murmured prayer. If they could end this battle quickly, Ialu wouldn’t need to fight. Just for now, she was glad that both Ialu and Jesse were far away. Turning to the soldier who had guided her here, she said, “Before going to bed, I wish to visit the Royal Beasts.” The soldier nodded and set off at a quick pace. When she reached the Royal Beast enclosure, Elin went inside and looked at the sleeping Beasts one by one: Leelan, Eku, and their son Kalu, and those captured from the wild, Nola and Tohba, and the youngest, Lesseh, Kaseh, Osseh, and Fuseh. Alu, who was pregnant, and her mate, Ukalu, as well as Mina, who had recently injured her leg, and Leelan’s youngest cub, had been left behind in Kazalumu. But even the small number of Beasts here could butcher hundreds of Toda in moments if they weren’t restrained. Elin looked up at Leelan, who slept with her jaw nestled in the fur on her chest. Will all that training work? She had drilled them to respond instantly to her commands. If her theory was correct, her ability to save them depended upon their complete obedience under any conditions. For most of her life, she had wanted to free the Royal Beasts from the prison of the Silent Whistle and the Canon, yet for the last six years she had done just the opposite. The moist night air caressed her cheeks. A faint blush of color touched the lower edge of the sky. Soon it would be dawn. Once day broke, the war would begin. She might have very little time left. Chills spread up from her knees, and she began to shake. She strove to remain calm, but the fear that lurked behind her rational mind and twisted in her gut spilled over, shaking her in its grasp. Unable to stay on her feet, Elin crumpled to her knees on the grass. Curling up, she buried her head in her arms with a moan. I don’t want to die. She couldn’t die and leave Jesse behind. Not when she knew how that would grieve him. There was so much she still hadn’t taught him, so much more she wanted to say. She longed to hold him in her arms just a little longer, to walk beside him as he lived his life. She wanted to be with him and Ialu, wanted all three of them to live and grow old together. Ialu … She clung to his image in her mind. She screamed to him in her heart. Help me … No one could change this situation. She was here by her own choice. She knew that, yet she couldn’t quell her agony, her longing to reach out for someone. Hugging herself as if clinging to Ialu, who was now so far away, she wept. There was a snort behind her, and something nudged her in the back. Looking up, she saw Leelan’s face looming above her. Leelan stuck out her huge tongue and licked Elin’s face. Elin pushed her muzzle away with both hands, but still Leelan didn’t stop. Slowly and deliberately, she licked Elin’s arms, her hands, her face, just as if she were a newborn cub. What’s she thinking, Elin wondered. Overcome by a strange sensation, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to Leelan. As she did so, an old memory surfaced. Leelan had done this before. Long ago, when she had plucked Elin up in her mouth and flown her to safety. She had lowered Elin onto the grass at the top of a hill and licked her all over, refusing to let anyone near for a long time. A warm feeling oozed from a point in Elin’s chest and spread through her body. Two different creatures can still connect like this. Despite the insurmountable gulf between us, we can still reach out and touch each other. This bond. It would probably never have been formed in the wild. As a member of the human herd, she should never have longed for such a connection. It was this relationship that had caused everything to warp and twist. But still … Elin opened her arms wide and hugged Leelan’s muzzle, praying that some of what she felt would reach her. Leelan had given her so much, so very much. Leelan rumbled comfortingly for a while, then gradually the sound receded. Slowly, Elin removed her arms and sat down on the grass, gazing at the sky. A strong wind seemed to be blowing across the heavens. Clouds flowed by, blocking the stars. Elin thought of all the countless lives under that sky. Mites burrowing in the earth, winged insects dancing like dust motes in the air, honeybees, fire ants, and humans. All those lives breathing in this darkness like myriad pulsating points of light. In its struggle to pass life on to the next generation, the human herd had extended its territory to the ends of the plains, spreading across the earth like stars scattered across the heavens. She was just one human among many; her life, just one brief moment. What would she achieve with that life before she vanished? Herds of different creatures intertwined in an infinite number of ways, so that she couldn’t even tell what or where her tiny hand was touching. Would the actions she was about to take change anything? Beginning with all her mother had given her long ago, she had received so much from the many lives she’d encountered along the way. Cradling each gift, she had carried on, thinking, always thinking, to reach this place. All this is what I’m made of. She opened her arms toward the heavens and took a deep breath. The smell of night expanded inside her. A thought rose and quietly filled her mind. May all things be set free. All those things entangled in the long stream of history. May the Royal Beasts be released to soar in this illimitable space. May Jesse, Ialu, and I be freed from the fetters forged by the inexorable flow of time. Because that is why I came this far. She lowered her arms away from the dark, endless void through which she and the Royal Beasts had often flown. Nestling herself between Leelan’s legs, she buried her face in the Beast’s belly. Wrapped in the scent of this creature with whom she had shared so much of her life, Elin closed her eyes. 5 THE KALENTA LOH In the afternoon of the day that Elin reached Amasulu, two men and a woman dressed in deep-hooded gray robes arrived at the Kazalumu Sanctuary. When the guard demanded to know who the three travelers were, they responded that they were Elin’s distant relations. Of the three, two had green eyes, which convinced the guard that they spoke the truth, and he allowed them into the school, although he accompanied them to the headmistress’s office. As he led them down the corridor, which echoed with the sounds of teachers’ voices, the guard glanced repeatedly at the third traveler, a woman whose face was once again hidden by her hood. When she had removed it a moment earlier, the guard had been startled by her eyes. Impossible, he thought to himself. It must’ve been the light. They reached the headmistress’s room, and he opened the door to let the travelers pass through. When the woman removed her hood, he took one last look at her eyes. He had not been mistaken. One of her eyes was green, but the other was golden. When he was told to report immediately to the headmistress’s office, the first thing that occurred to Jesse was that something had happened to his mother. Breaking the school rules, he dashed down the hall and burst into the room. Three strangers sat by the hearth. They turned to stare at him. Esalu beckoned him to her side. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she said, “This is Elin’s son, Jesse.” The three strangers rose, regarding him solemnly. Jesse looked at them, wide-eyed. Green eyes, and golden, too, he noted. All three were tall and slender with finely chiseled features. The man on the right was elderly while the one on the left was young. Both somehow resembled his mother. But the one who drew his attention was the middle-aged woman between them. The light from the window clearly showed that her right eye was green while the left was golden. The green-eyed Ahlyo and the golden-eyed Yojeh. Suddenly, Jesse remembered a strange tale he had read in his mother’s diary. “Are you Kalenta Loh?” he blurted out. Their eyes widened, and Esalu jerked her head to stare at Jesse. The elderly man gave him a stern look. “Did you hear that name from your mother?” he asked. Jesse nodded hesitantly. The man’s eyes were hard, as if he thought Elin had told her son something she shouldn’t have. “Well, only sort of,” Jesse added hastily. “I overheard her talking to Her Majesty, the Yojeh, about it.” At this, the visitors and Esalu looked satisfied. “I’m Nason,” the elderly man said to Jesse. “I’m an Ao-Loh, one of the People of the Law. But these two, as you guessed, are Kalenta Loh. They have traveled for several months from a valley deep in the Afon Noah to meet your mother and the Yojeh Seimiya.” With a determined set to her jaw, Esalu interrupted. “As I said earlier, is it not sufficient that I alone hear what you have to say?” Nason shook his head. “I knew before we came that Elin had already left. We must see her and the Yojeh as soon as possible. But I have taken time from this precious mission specifically to come and see this young man.” He looked at Jesse, a bitter smile rising to his lips. “You don’t know me, but I know you very well. I have watched you all these years as you snuck through the forest to spy on your mother when she was training the Royal Beasts, although the soldiers kept such a strict guard that I couldn’t speak to you.” The hairs rose on the nape of Jesse’s neck, and his eyes narrowed. “I was close to your grandmother and have talked to your mother before. I watched them both break the Law and take the path to destruction.” Anger flared inside Jesse, and he scowled at the man. Seeing his expression, Nason turned to Esalu. “You see,” he said. “Look at his face. He’s still young, yet he’s his mother’s child. These two must share what they have to say with this boy now. If we wait until after his mother is dead, his mind will be closed, and he’ll be unable to judge clearly. This is the critical moment when we may still prevent him from following in her footsteps. That’s why I asked them to come here with me.” As Jesse listened, the words in his mother’s diary clicked with the words this man had just spoken. Fury welled up from the pit of his stomach as he remembered who Nason was and what he had said to his mother. “After she’s dead? So I won’t follow in her footsteps?” Jesse shouted. “How dare you, old man! No matter what you say, I’ll follow her! Do you expect me to listen to someone who treated my mother the way you did!” Nason looked at him unperturbed. “And so, like your mother, you’ll take countless lives, including your own?” he said quietly. Jesse flushed bright red and tried to retort, but no words came. “If we don’t stop her,” Nason continued, “your mother will end up killing thousands and meet a horrible end. I brought these two here to prevent such a tragedy.” He sighed. “The Ao-Loh have abandoned hope for your mother. With the number of Royal Beasts and Toda you have now, we expect that several thousand people will die if there’s a battle. While that’s a terrible tragedy, it’s still small compared to what happened on the other side of the Afon Noah. If your mother dies here to atone for her sin, she’ll take the Handler’s Art with her to the grave, and no one else will be able to ride the Royal Beasts. If she dies now, neither Seimiya nor you will be able to fly them as you please. My people see this timing as a blessing, and so they’ve chosen not to intervene.” His voice faltered, and he stopped to take a breath. “But if possible, I would rather save thousands from dying.” Anguish rose in his face. “I realize now that when I told your mother about the catastrophe, I should have told her the whole truth. If I had told her then, she might have chosen a different path. But at the time, I thought I shouldn’t because to do so would be to reveal that Toda can be bred by humans.” He shook his head slowly and sighed. “In the end, my precaution was not just in vain, it made things worse. So when I learned that these two had left the Afon Noah and were traveling the Road of Mist to reach this country, I offered to guide them.” The two travelers, who had been listening to him speak, barely stirring, looked at each other. “Nason,” the younger one said, “may we share the rest ourselves?” His voice was resonant with an odd inflection that sounded as if it vibrated deep in his throat. Nason nodded and gestured with his hand for them to go ahead. The young man turned to face Esalu and Jesse. “My name is Lyoza. My mother here is Sohyon. We have come from Paleh, the valley.” “Lyoza? Sohyon?” Esalu whispered. “I thought Sohyon was Elin’s mother’s name.” Nason shrugged. “It’s a name heard often among the Ao-Loh, although no one I know is named Lyoza.” Esalu nodded and turned to the young man. “Lyoza. The same name as this kingdom?” He nodded. “Yes, so I’ve heard. For us, Lyoza is a very common name. Do you know where it comes from?” Esalu shook her head with a puzzled look. “No. I didn’t even know there was a source for it.” “I see. In that case, I should start there. Although, to be honest, for us this tale is no more than a legend. We don’t know how much of it is true.” The woman beside him spoke up, her voice soft. “But first, you should know that while we share the same roots as the Ao-Loh, we’re not one people. We’ve stayed in limited contact with people like Nason, here, but we never leave the mountains the way he and his people do. The Ao-Loh call us the Kalenta Loh because our ancestors who survived the catastrophe chose not to wander as they do, but rather to settle in one place and live in peace. To them our name means ‘the ones who remain in the valley.’ But for us, the name Kalenta Loh means ‘the ones who survived.’” She paused and then continued quietly. “Our homes are scattered in the mountain range you call the Afon Noah, the mountains of the gods. We’d never been to this side of the mountains, so until now, we had no idea what kind of lives you lived, what oral histories you had, or what kind of worldview.” Esalu suddenly seemed to notice that they were still standing, and she gestured for them to sit. When they had taken a seat, the woman continued. “Concerning the origin of the name Lyoza that my son mentioned earlier, this legend is the one that has been passed down in my home village. It’s deeply connected with the young woman named Jeh. “After Jeh left the valley, she used to send a message strapped to the leg of an ochiwa every year to share news of her life. This custom of exchanging letters by ochiwa continued even after she died. If there’s anything that has connected my people and yours, it’s just these letters. “But even though an ochiwa still bears a message to us every year, at some point in the past, the words written in that message changed to a language we couldn’t read and the content became very short. To be honest, these messages have become more of a ritual than actual communication for our people. According to legend, our ancestors believed that the same thing must have happened on the other side of the mountains due to the passage of time.” She glanced at Nason. “Talking with Nason, that riddle was solved. It seems that the script you used suddenly became reversed.” Esalu frowned, but Jesse let out a little yelp. He blushed as everyone’s eyes turned to him. “Sorry, it’s just that I realized something. My mother used to write while looking into a mirror. I always thought she was writing in a secret language, but now I know she was writing in your language.” Nason sighed. “That’s right. It was Jeh, the founder of this country, who created the mirror script. But then, for some reason, she taught it to the people here as their regular script. I don’t know why she would have done so.” Nason looked at Jesse, then at Esalu. “Our people, of course, still write the same way we used to. Elin probably learned that way of writing from her mother, Sohyon. But the descendants of Jeh forgot how to read and write it.” “Ah.” Esalu murmured. “That knowledge was lost in the fire set by the Sai Gamulu.” The woman smiled politely. “Yes, it seems so. But we knew nothing of it. Because of that, we viewed the message borne by the ochiwa simply as a New Year’s custom, and returned it with the scent of flowers while offering our prayers for the happiness of Jeh’s descendants in that far-off land. However…” She stopped and looked at her son. He nodded and took up the story. “This year the ochiwa came not only in the new year but also again in early summer. Moreover, it came bearing urgent questions written in our own language. Surprised, we consulted about what to do.” Lyoza smiled at Jesse. “You see, to answer the questions asked by your mother and your ruler Seimiya, we needed to write such a long explanation that it wouldn’t have fit in the tube borne by the ochiwa.” “Also,” Lyoza’s mother chimed in, “as I told you before, we’ve been out of touch with your people for so long that we weren’t sure how to explain.” Her son nodded. “Their questions seemed to be about something that happened so long ago it was more a myth or a folktale. We couldn’t understand why they would be asking us such questions now. And they sounded so desperate, like they were sending a plea to the gods. We were quite bewildered.” Esalu nodded. “I see. If you hadn’t had any contact for centuries, their message must have seemed to come out of the blue.” The woman’s face softened. “Exactly. We realized that the best way to answer would be to send someone over the mountains to meet whoever wrote that message. To be frank, not everyone agreed it was necessary. But I felt strongly that if someone had sent that ochiwa believing in the promise of our ancestors to help them in need, we should go to them.” Jesse gripped his knees with his hands. The words of this kind woman touched his heart, and he felt his chest grow hot. “Thank you,” he said, bowing his head. The woman looked at him as though startled. She smiled gently, but her expression quickly turned to one of regret. “I’m sorry,” she said huskily. “If we had come sooner, we could’ve met your mother before she left and stopped her. Until we met Nason, we had no idea what was going on in this country.” Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but Esalu cut him off. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she said, “So if the Royal Beasts attack the Toda army, a catastrophe will occur. Is that correct?” With a pained expression, the woman nodded. “Yes.” Esalu leaned forward. “We tried to imagine every possibility and trained the Royal Beasts to respond to Elin’s commands no matter what the situation. Won’t that mean she can prevent it?” The woman shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t think that’s possible. Because when the Royal Beasts come in contact with an army of Toda, they go mad.” Esalu threw on her mantle, but her fingers fumbled on the strings at her throat so that she couldn’t tie them. She clicked her tongue in disgust. Her hands were shaking too badly. Sohyon’s tale kept running through her head, and she couldn’t keep herself from trembling. She clicked her tongue once again. She’d forgotten how far along she was in her packing. She paused and took a deep breath. “Honestly. Pull yourself together,” she told herself. Sohyon and the others had planned to take the mountain roads to keep out of sight, but Esalu had stopped them and told the guard to bring her a fast horse. If she rode through the night, she would reach the palace a little after noon the next day. Having finally managed to tie the strings of her hood, she slung a cloth bag over her shoulder. She turned to make sure she had put out the fire in the hearth, when she heard a knock on the door. “Miss Esalu, everything’s ready.” It was one of the custodians. “Coming.” She opened the door and was confronted with the man’s worried face. “I gave Jesse the saddle as you asked, but do you really intend to fly?” Esalu frowned. “What did you say?” “You told Jesse to put the riding harness on for you, didn’t you?” “Absolutely not! I’d never do such a thing!” The man’s face blanched. “But Jesse said you did. He’s taken the riding harness to Alu’s stable—” Without waiting to hear the rest, Esalu broke into a run. Her knees hurt, but she gritted her teeth and rushed toward the Royal Beast stable. The sun had set, and the evening star was beginning to twinkle in the sky. Beneath the blue vault of night, she could see the stable door standing wide open. Backlit by the lantern inside the stable, a huge black shadow ducked under the lintel and into the open. “Jesse!” Esalu screamed, just as the shadow spread its wings. It sank onto its haunches and then shot up into the sky. For a second, Esalu glimpsed the tiny form of the boy clinging to the Beast’s back. Then Alu turned and vanished into the night. 6 THE MORNING OF THE BATTLE The wind moaned in Jesse’s ears. When he raised his head, it slammed him in the chest and threatened to blow him off. It was hard to breathe. He pressed himself against Alu’s back and clung on tight. He had to use not just his arms but his whole body to keep from being ripped away. Worse still, it was freezing. Even with his thick gloves, his hands gripping the harness were so stiff with cold he could no longer feel what he was holding. He had thought it would be easy to ride as long as the harness was on. What a mistake. Yet his mother seemed to ride the Beasts so effortlessly. For years, he had watched her fasten Leelan’s harness and fly into the sky on her back. When he realized that they had to warn his mother as soon as possible, he had immediately thought of riding Alu to get there. Alu had been restless when he was fastening her harness, as though she sensed that something was unusual. Once he was on her back and told her to fly to Lazalu, however, she seemed to recognize this familiar order and flew without protest. His heart had thumped wildly in his chest when she leaped into the sky. The ground fell away abruptly, and when he could see the whole of Kazalumu from the air, he had felt like letting out a loud cheer. But now, he was frozen and sore all over. It was so painful, he wanted to cry. If it weren’t for the urgent need to warn his mother, he would’ve asked Alu to turn around and take him home. Pressing his face into Alu’s soft, warm back, he closed his eyes and turned his thoughts to his mother. Mom. You mustn’t fly! The story told by the woman with one green eye and one gold was far more terrifying than the one his mother had written. The woman had spoken as though telling a folktale to her grandchildren, but Jesse had been so petrified his head had gone numb. If the Royal Beasts went mad, then all their training, no matter how thorough, would be useless. Icy cold gripped him at the thought of his mother being torn apart when the Royal Beasts clashed, of his father crushed beneath the Toda. As for Toda bred by men, when faced with Royal Beasts would they really undergo the transformation that woman had described? He must stop his mother. But even if she knew that the Royal Beasts would go mad and the Toda would undergo a horrible change, she would probably still fly. She’d still fly to show everyone what would happen. If so, then I’m the one who must stop it. Like the young man Lyoza in the woman’s story. But he must not think about what would happen if he did what Lyoza had done. Otherwise, he’d be too afraid to go through with it. He must not think … Just then, he felt a change in the way Alu flew and heard her gasp for breath. A chill spread through him. She was pregnant. Such a long flight would take its toll on her. “I’m sorry, Alu,” he said, stroking her back. Her wings slowed and made loud flapping noises, but she flew on. “I’m so sorry, Alu. Just a little longer. You can do it.” How much farther was it to Lazalu, he wondered. Below him, the earth was dark except for the occasional village where a few lights were shining. He tried to remember the time his father had taken him to the capital many years ago, but the scenery viewed from the air was quite different from that viewed from land, and he had no clue as to where he was. He could only pray that they would reach Lazalu soon. Finally, in the distance, he saw a broad cluster of lights. Alu’s wings began to beat more strongly. Drawing on her last reserves of strength, she flew toward the Lazalu Sanctuary, which she knew so well. When they landed, Alu dropped down on her haunches, as though exhausted. Men came rushing out, alarmed by the noise. They stood staring from a distance as Jesse slid from Alu’s back. He landed on his feet, but his knees buckled, and he ended up on his bottom. A stocky, elderly man approached cautiously and asked, “Who are you? Is this one of the Royal Beasts from Kazalumu?” Gasping for breath, Jesse answered, “I’m … Jesse … Elin’s son … from Kazalumu.” The man’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” “Is my … mother here? I have to … see her … immediately!” The man’s face clouded. “Your mother’s no longer here. She left for Amasulu with the Royal Beasts.” For a moment, everything went dark. Jesse pressed his forehead against his knees and tried desperately to breathe. A cold sweat broke out on his face. Raising his head, he said, “Amasulu … It’s east … right?” The man knelt and patted Jesse on the back. “Yes, but you can’t fly right now. If you need to tell your mother something, we can send a courier pigeon.” “Courier pigeon?” Jesse whispered. “Yes. It’ll reach Amasulu by dawn.” Trembling, Jesse said, “That won’t work. I have to go myself.” “You can’t.” “Yes, I can. If I rest a little first.” The man shook his head. “You may be all right, but that Royal Beast is in no condition to fly. That’s Alu, isn’t it? Her belly seems a little swollen.” Jesse looked up at Alu. Her tongue was lolling out, and she was panting heavily. Her face showed just how hard the flight had been for a Beast bearing young. Impatience burned Jesse’s chest, but he couldn’t force the exhausted Alu to fly any farther. Elin woke with a start to the sound of a shrill whistle. Dawn had already broken. A chill wind bearing the scent of rain brushed against her cheeks. Thick clouds streamed across the leaden sky, but no rain fell as of yet. Shafts of sunlight streaked from a break in the clouds, and the cloth enclosure shone a dazzling white. That she had slept so deeply came as a surprise. True, she had been exhausted, but that was not the only reason. The uneasiness that had gripped her for so long seemed to have vanished. All worries, fear, and anguish had sunk to the bottom of her mind, leaving the surface as still as water. Listening to people bustling about the camp, Elin stepped outside and gazed down upon the broad plain of Amasulu. Cloud shadows raced across it. The wide Amasulu River wove through those shadows, light glinting on its surface. From its upper reaches, dark log-like shapes rode its waters. Toda … Foreigners straddled them, red feathers flickering in their hair like flames. Their number was overwhelming. Elin wondered if the archers sent by the nobles to intercept them had had any impact at all. The Yojeh and the Aluhan stood side by side watching them come. One step behind, Yohalu kept his eyes fixed on the river. Seimiya turned as Elin approached. Her face pale and tense, she looked at Elin but said nothing. A stray wisp of hair danced in the wind, touching her cheek. Elin stood silently, watching troop after troop of Toda glide down the river. Raindrops fell randomly at first, then turned into a thin sheet of water that joined earth and heaven. The gray autumn fields glowed dully, and waves chopped the river’s surface. Rain shrouded the boats pulled up along the banks. Seimiya never took her eyes from the invading Toda hosts even when a servant brought her an umbrella. Yohalu’s son-in-law led the Aluhan’s Toda troops, and he had drawn them up on the near bank to shield the farm villages and the city of Amasulu behind from the invaders. With the main force still in Imeelu, there were perhaps only a thousand Toda Riders assembled below, yet to Seimiya, they still seemed to outnumber, at least slightly, the enemy forces speeding down the river toward them. “It’s all right,” Shunan murmured. “It looks like we’re evenly matched in numbers. If that’s all they’ve sent, we should still come out on top.” Seimiya nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little. Just as the invaders approached a landing spot, Shunan raised his right hand high. Below the hill, a hand-flag rose in answer. Like a flock of butterflies taking to the air, a flurry of flags flapped in succession, heading in a straight line toward the Aluhan’s troops. When the last white hand-flag shot up, the blare of hundreds of war horns shook the earth and ascended into the air. The troops advanced to envelop the enemy Riders as they clambered from the river. Dust and water swirled into the air and spread outward as the two Toda forces collided. Shunan suddenly leaned forward with a puzzled frown. “Wait a minute. What’s going on?” From his vantage point, it looked like the Toda formation had begun to warp. Instead of falling upon one another with tooth and claw, they seemed to be circling each other as though reluctant to come in contact. At first, he couldn’t see what was happening through the thick haze of dust and mist, but once the entire enemy force had emerged from the water and begun moving ponderously toward the hill where he stood, he could make out their movements more clearly. “But that’s … impossible,” he whispered. The wind blew wet strands of hair into his eyes, and he shoved them aside. “Toda. Do they not attack their own kind?” The beasts weren’t fighting. Although the Riders grasped their horns and pulled frantically, trying to steer them, the Toda reared or shied away whenever they drew close to one another. “But why?” Yohalu said hoarsely. The rain had plastered his gray hair to his forehead. “They’ll rip one another to shreds if there’re more than ten of them in one Pond.” “It might be because this is an open space,” Elin said. Everyone turned to stare at her. “In a Pond, they attack one another because their territory is too small to support more than ten. Here, they have lots of room, and it’s not their territory. Maybe that’s why they won’t attack one another.” Even as she said this, however, she felt there was more to it. Frowning, she looked down at the Toda. Although it was hard to tell at first because they were moving quickly now, it seemed as though they were maintaining an equal distance from one another. Whenever they came too close, they bounced away, like two magnets when their poles repel each other. It reminded her of the way Royal Beasts behaved when they flew too close to each other. A soundless sound … Ialu’s words came back to her. Men felt a low buzzing in their ears when they rode the new breed of Toda, he had told her. Their teeth ached and their skin crawled. Her heart began to pound. The Aluhan’s men protecting Amasulu were mounted on the new breed. What if the Toda ridden by the Lahza shared this same characteristic? As the Toda struggled to avoid one another, resisting their Riders’ attempts to make them attack, multiple swirling eddies began to form within the mass of beasts gathered on the plain. Figures began to spill from the edges of the eddies. One after the other, Toda bearing enemy Riders with red feathers in their hair were ejected from the vortexes. They stood looking dazed at first, but once they grasped the situation, they turned their mounts and charged straight toward the city of Amasulu. At that moment, everything changed. Quick-witted Lahza Riders burst from the edges of the swirling of Toda. Caught off guard, the Aluhan’s troops tried to follow in pursuit, but their mounts rebelled, turning and twisting to avoid approaching the Lahza’s Toda. The eddies broke, and a thousand enemy troops stampeded toward the city with the force of an avalanche. Cavalrymen stationed beyond the city’s outer wall began chasing the Lahza, arrows flying from their bows. But they only succeeded in killing a few Toda Riders. They couldn’t slow the thunderous charge. “Elin!” Seimiya swung around to look at her. With a quick nod, Elin turned, but then she stopped and looked back at Seimiya and Shunan. “Promise me one thing,” she said, her voice strained. Raindrops trickled down her cheeks. “Please. Promise you will witness what takes place today and never again conceal what happens. So that everyone can know the truth and think for themselves. Promise me that the truth will never again be hidden.” Seimiya placed a hand over her heart. “I promise to do what you ask,” she said. Elin held her eyes, then bowed deeply and ran to the enclosure where the Royal Beasts waited. 7 MADNESS Perched on Leelan’s back, Elin plucked her harp, and the Royal Beasts rose as one into the sky. She hadn’t plugged their ears. There would be times when they couldn’t see her hand gestures. If she wanted to coordinate their movements, sound was the surest way to communicate her commands. It was a gamble. If a Toda Rider blew his Silent Whistle, the Royal Beasts would fall from the sky. But she knew that the Riders would have plugged the ears of their mounts. They would have left their whistles hanging from their chests, rather than holding them in their mouths, so that they could call out to one another. And earplugs couldn’t block the song of the Royal Beasts. When the Royal Beasts attacked and the Toda rolled over, the Riders would have almost no chance to let go of the horns and blow their Whistles. Even so, to be on the safe side, Elin with Esalu’s help had repeatedly tested just how far the effects of the Silent Whistle could travel. It was much farther than the “ten adult steps” she had been taught at school, but she now knew instinctively the distance needed to prevent the Royal Beasts from being paralyzed. Leelan’s hackles rose. She had caught sight of the Toda troops ahead and entered fighting mode. The others also bared their fangs. Filled with a savage fury, they were tensed as taut as bowstrings, but they kept to the speed Elin had commanded with her harp, resisting the urge to accelerate. Repeated training with Toda in the wild appeared to be paying off. The city of Amasulu spread out below, and the Royal Beasts flew swiftly over the clustered buildings. The Lahza force had reached a farm village on the plain outside the city walls. In seconds, the Toda had trampled through the recently harvested fields and plowed into the storehouses. The wooden walls cracked and burst. The farmers had already left with their tools to take refuge within the city, but their livestock remained behind. White feathers flying, hens scattered before the onslaught, only to be crushed underfoot. A thousand Toda fell upon the wooden houses of the village. Fences and buildings collapsed in a churning cloud of dust that left only wreckage in its wake. The horde of Toda sped toward the city without slackening its pace. Archers on the wall showered them with arrows, but although enemy soldiers fell, this had no effect on the Toda. Once they reached the wall, they would quickly scale it with their sharp claws and pour into the city beyond. The Lahza would conquer Amasulu just as they had planned. Soaring across the city, Elin could see people climbing onto roofs, clinging to one another as they stared at the invading force. The Toda mustn’t clear the walls. If a battle between Royal Beasts and Toda was going to cause a catastrophe, then she must stop the Toda forces before they reached the city. Otherwise, the people would be slaughtered. The Royal Beasts reached the outskirts and flew beyond its walls. On the plain below, the Toda raced toward the city. Steeling herself, Elin plucked a different sound on her harp. In response, the Royal Beasts tilted their wings and began their descent. How will it start? And at what distance? She now guessed that the calamity must have been caused by some kind of sound emitted by Toda and Royal Beasts when they came too close. Somewhere, an invisible boundary existed. Whatever happened would start when they crossed that line. Leelan led the way. She dropped toward the advancing horde, emitting a long, trailing whistle. As the high-pitched sound echoed through the air, the Toda in the front lines reared upward and flipped, landing belly-up. Their Riders were crushed beneath them before they could even scream. Alighting on the hapless Toda, Leelan began ripping their flesh, taking her time. The smell of blood assailed Elin, and she heard the crunch of breaking bones. Leelan lowered her head, hunching over the Toda to feed. Over Leelan’s shoulder, Elin saw the face of a dead Lahza warrior. His eyes were open wide, as if surprised. He looked so young, not even twenty. Elin screamed at Leelan. “Up! Up! Get away from the Toda you’ve killed!” With a sulky expression, Leelan spread her wings. Nothing happened. Even though we came into contact with the Toda. As this thought was flitting through her mind, Eku and the other Royal Beasts, which had spread out over the Toda horde, began dropping from the sky while trilling a high, piercing melody. The Toda, their bodies mutated by hakujisui and repeated breeding, were now face-to-face with their natural enemy. Overcome by fear, they emitted a voiceless scream. When the Royal Beasts’ song collided with that scream, it all began. The Toda host morphed. Pressing against one another, the Toda picked up speed. Each one leaned into the other as though the angle of their bodies had been perfectly measured to move in a circle. They revolved in a clockwise vortex that generated a thick cloud of dust. The cloud rose and radiated outward, but it contained more than dust. The Toda, a thousand strong, burst into a high-pitched wail like wind shrieking through a cracked pipe. Rather than one long sound, it came in short, repeated bursts that grated on the ear. Each time Toda bumped one another, a secretion triggered by fear and excitement spurted from the gaps between their scales. This was swept up with the dust and dispersed like mist into the air. The Toda Riders suddenly arched backward as if they had been struck by lightning. Bodies rigid, lips puckered like the mouths of fish unable to breath the air, they bounced about limply on the backs of the running, shrieking Toda. Although she didn’t know why, Elin was certain that every single Rider on those whirling Toda had died. Something strange was happening to the Royal Beasts as well. Lesseh and Fuseh recoiled from the Toda they were attacking, springing into the air. They twitched and flapped like shrimp, opening their mouths wide as though in a scream. Shaking their heads, they shrieked soundlessly, yet still they plunged back among the Toda as though pulled by an invisible string. Elin stared mesmerized by the sight when suddenly she felt her body lift. Leelan was swooping down toward the Toda. “No!” Elin shouted, but Leelan didn’t stop. Elin saw Toda with Riders’ corpses lolling on their backs, rushing toward her. When Leelan hit the layer of whirling dust, a mist touched Elin’s cheeks. Pain shot through her face as though it was being pierced by a thousand needles. She screamed, but something caught in her throat as she inhaled. She couldn’t breathe. The searing needles of pain swept beyond her face to jab every inch of skin. Instinctively, Elin leaned back, pulling with all her might on the riding harness. Leelan shook her head and, with a voiceless cry, twisted her body and soared upward at an angle. The same voiceless cry burst from the other Royal Beasts as they writhed in agony. The soundless sounds overlapped one another, resonating and repeating as they collided with the Toda’s screams of terror. Crazed, the Toda charged round and round in circles, and the Royal Beasts, wings tilted, revolved with them. Earth, grass, and feathered hair ornaments were whipped into the cloud of dust, which roared as it gyrated upward. Rain steamed like smoke and swirled, whistling, up into the air. Caught in this maelstrom, the bodies of the Toda Riders were reduced to mere objects that would never scream again. Blinded by tears, Elin desperately plucked her harp. Even that sound seemed warped to her ears, but Leelan responded. Groaning, she flapped her wings and twisted her body, fighting to break free of the vortex, then flew up into the heavens. “To the sky! To the sky! To the sky!” Elin plucked the strings so hard she worried they would snap as she tried to pull the Royal Beasts back from the maelstrom. By the time the strings finally broke with a twang, Eku had joined them, and Nola, Kaseh, and Tohba were struggling to follow. But for Kalu, Lesseh, Osseh, and Fuseh, it was too late. They had already gone mad. Blood spurted from their eyes, ears, and noses, yet they continued their wild circular flight. At that moment, the Toda that bore the Aluhan’s troops finally caught up with the Lahza force, and the four Royal Beasts dove down into them. The Aluhan’s Toda were swept into the frenzy, joining the others in their anguished scream. Who was from Lahza and who was from Lyoza no longer mattered. Every living creature on the plain, man or beast, pulsated in unison as they were swept up and crushed within a mortar of ever-magnifying fear. The Royal Beasts, the berserk Toda, circling and undulating like a whirlwind, became one tortured mass. Blind and deaf to the world, the mass smashed into the city’s outer wall. “There were no longer any victors or losers.” As he pressed his face into Alu’s back to protect it from the rain into which they flew, the woman’s words kept ringing in Jesse’s brain. “When tens of thousands of Toda collided with thousands of Royal Beasts, this is what happened. The Royal Beasts went mad. Men and Beasts touched by the mist generated by the Toda were killed instantly. Buildings collapsed, crushing women, children, and babies beneath. In minutes, the deadly mist that rose from the horde had covered the land. “For the few that survived, there were no enemies and no allies. When Lyoza saved them, our ancestors banded together and, leaving the ruins of that country, fled deep into the mountains. Since that time, the golden-eyed and the green-eyed ones have lived as one family.” Lyoza was the name of the younger brother of Jeh, the woman who had flown the Royal Beasts and caused that great catastrophe. At the cost of his own life, he had finally stopped the Beasts attacking the Toda. A hundred people had been saved. Jeh left the valley and built another country, giving it her brother’s name. Mother … Surely nothing bad will happen, Jesse told himself. His mother probably hadn’t flown the Royal Beasts yet, and even if she had, she’d survive. But he couldn’t suppress the horrific images that kept bubbling up like foam in his mind. No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t keep them down. He prayed that he would find his mother in Amasulu. Alu couldn’t go any farther, not when she was pregnant. The rain had lessened and no longer struck his face. Raising his head, he saw clouds hemmed with gold. It seemed like a good omen, and he felt his heart lighten. 8 THE SILENT WHISTLE Elin couldn’t hear. Sounds came to her, but they had no meaning. Her mouth gaped as she gulped for air. Even trying to open her eyes was agony. Tears streamed from them, and her lids twitched uncontrollably. She managed to force them open a crack but could see only a wobbly band of light. When she wiped away the tears, red blood from her nose stained her palm. That color was the only thing she could see clearly. The gray clouds covering the sky flowed on the wind, and a ray of golden light fell through a gap onto the earth below. It dappled the gyrating, undulating sea of crazed beasts. Kalu, Lesseh, Osseh, and Fuseh rose and fell, arcing over the Toda as they attacked them over and over. Each time they attacked, the Toda tried to escape, only to collide with one another. Panicked and crazed with pain, the writhing mass of Toda, no longer distinguishable as individual beasts, slammed repeatedly against the outer wall of the city. Those in the rear continued to throw themselves against those that were already pressed limply against the wall. With each impact, stone dust rose like a cloud of white smoke. The main gate to the city shuddered. The thick slabs of cedar, which fit seamlessly together, groaned, and the iron spikes that fastened them loosened from the frame. As Lesseh swooped down yet again, the Toda below twisted violently and crashed against the gate. Its heavy bolt snapped, and the gate splintered. Bursting open, it was trampled beneath the Toda that poured into the city. Those that stumbled or fell were crushed underfoot, while the rest plowed down the wide street, toppling the trees along the boulevards. Above them swooped the Royal Beasts. Fuseh dove down and sank her fangs into a Toda’s back, then suddenly reared, her body contorting and twitching. She toppled to the ground like a stone and did not move again. Wild with pain, their faces streaked with blood, Kalu, Lesseh, and Osseh threw themselves repeatedly against the Toda, the source of the noise that was driving them mad. Archers defending the city let loose a hail of arrows from the windows and rooftops of two large buildings facing the main gate. But they merely pierced the corpses of the Lahza warriors still lolling in their saddles. Toda crashed into the buildings where the archers stood, and a thick mist rose. Archers collapsed at the mist’s touch. Dropping their bows, they plummeted to the ground. The strong wind and intermittent rain diluted and dispersed the mist, but even so, those who had sought refuge on the roofs began to cough. If the wind changed direction, the mist would kill them, too. All this Elin saw from a world where sound had vanished. She knew that she must stop Kalu and the others. As long as they kept attacking, the Toda in their terror would continue to emit the deadly mist. But the four Royal Beasts were now deaf to her voice and blind to her gestured commands. Elin raised her eyes to the heavens and wept. She had known this catastrophe would happen. She had told herself that to witness it was the only way through to the future. But for the beasts and men dying in agony below, there was no future. She clenched her teeth to hold back a scream. She had to stop them. Now. This was no time for weeping. The mist that rose from the frenzied Toda as they tried to flee the Royal Beasts was deadly. Toda in the wild, and even the army of Toda on Tahai Azeh, hadn’t emitted any poison. But the Toda whirling below were clearly generating a toxic mist. Elin bit her lip. They aren’t the same as Toda in the wild or the ones on the plains of Tahai Azeh. They were bred by the hands of men. She remembered what Ialu had said. When the new breed of Toda were agitated, the men around them not only became quick-tempered and violent, but also went into convulsions if they came in contact with their bodily fluids. Over several generations, breeding must have resulted in more concentrated toxins, while fear or anger accelerated the Toda’s metabolism. When the panicked horde pressed against one another, the poison spurted from their bodies and dispersed as a deadly mist into the air. The Royal Beasts and the Toda. Unless she could sever the chain reaction of fear and madness, the toxic mist would continue to spread. She had to end the madness before that poison wiped out the entire city. Eku, who was flying beside Leelan, shuddered. Even at this distance, the screams of the Toda were reaching him, Elin thought. Something in that sound was driving the Royal Beasts insane. She had to get him and the others to safety. She raised her hand high and waved it repeatedly. “Eku! Go! Get out of here! Nola, Kaseh, Tohba! Fly!” Eku looked at her hand, shook his head once, and flew away, heading straight toward the hill. Nola, Kaseh, and Tohba followed. When they were just tiny specks far away from the whirlpool of Toda below, Elin saw another tiny speck hurtling toward her from the hill. For a moment, she thought that Eku must be flying back, but she realized immediately that it wasn’t. She peered at the approaching figures, trying to make them out, then gasped. Jesse? Impossible! Why? Elin spurred Leelan toward him. Soon she could make out his face. He was clinging to Alu’s back and staring at her. Shifting his gaze to the Toda and Royal Beasts below, he moved his hand and brought something toward his mouth. When she realized what it was, Elin cried out. “Jesse! No!” Jesse wept. Below him, the gentle, timid Kalu had gone berserk. Fangs bared, drenched in blood, he fell upon the Toda, ripping them apart. Lesseh and Osseh were slamming their bodies against Toda, slashing and writhing as they tried to pull themselves away. His eyes full of tears, Jesse looked at his mother. As she drew nearer, he raised the Silent Whistle that hung at his neck and placed it to his mouth. It felt cold against his lips. His mother was yelling something, trying to stop him, he guessed. He could end this. All he had to do was fly into the midst of the Royal Beasts and blow. He knew that, but he couldn’t do it. If he did, Alu would fall to her death. And her unborn cub would die with her. Leelan and Elin raced toward him. He saw his mother raise her palm and heard her yell as she waved her hand. Instantly, Alu swerved aside and flew up into the sky. “No!” Jesse screamed. “Alu, no!” But Alu didn’t stop. She passed Leelan who was on her way down. For a moment, Jesse saw his mother’s face, ghostly white, then she was gone. He twisted his body, trying to follow their flight. As Alu banked away, he saw his mother bend forward to whisper something in Leelan’s ear. The instant Elin saw Jesse raise the Silent Whistle to his lips, she knew what she must do. Thank you, Jesse, she thought. As they passed each other in midair, she seared his face on her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Let’s go, Leelan,” she murmured in her ear. “Let’s go to your children.” Leelan obeyed without protest. Watching her back as they descended, Elin wept. If you’d never met me, you could’ve escaped this fate. It was Elin, not Leelan, who had rebelled at the idea of this Royal Beast ending her days dozing in the meadows of Kazalumu. Yet even if she could live her life over again, she would probably choose the same path. She would’ve tried to free the Royal Beasts to live as they would in the wild—to mate, bear young, and die. Remembering the life she had shared with Ialu and Jesse, a warmth spread through her. The pool of beasts filled her sight, undulating, swirling, colliding. Leaping into the thunder that rose from the crashing bodies and flying between the frenzied Royal Beasts, Elin raised the Whistle to her lips and blew. Like a thread that has been cut, all sound vanished. Kalu and the others froze like statues, wings spread wide. Rocking from side to side, they dropped to the ground. The Toda froze, too, then collapsed on the spot. For as far as the Silent Whistle reached, every beast toppled over, severing the chain reaction generated by the screams of the Royal Beasts and the Toda. When the Royal Beasts hit the ground, they smashed into the Toda with the sound of shattering bones. Elin had blown the Whistle in Leelan’s ear. She froze, wings spread wide as her body hurtled to the earth. Elin’s hair rose. The wind whistled in her ears. The Toda had fallen outward, leaving a hole in the middle of their ranks. Elin saw the ground rushing toward her and squeezed her eyes shut. The next moment, Leelan slammed into the earth. 9 ASH-COLORED CITY By the time he reached Amasulu, Ialu could see small specks flying in the air above the city—Royal Beasts. They dropped from the sky like eagles attacking their prey, then flew up and dropped, again and again. “Move it! The battle’s already begun!” The commander blew his war horn, spurring on the Toda and their Riders, who had raced through the night without stopping to sleep. Ialu rode beside the commander, and together they plunged into the river. Spray shot up into the air, drenching them. Beyond the white curtain of water, they could see horsemen galloping, not toward the city where the battle was taking place, but toward the river. One of them pulled ahead of the rest and waved his arm frantically, shouting at the approaching Toda troops. “I’ll go on ahead,” Ialu said. He urged his mount to the riverbank where the horseman waited. When Ialu was within hearing distance, the man yelled, “Stop! Don’t go to the city!” Frowning, Ialu said, “What do you mean? Get a grip on yourself!” The Rider took a deep breath and tried again, his shoulders heaving. “The Toda and the Royal Beasts! They’ve gone mad! Anyone, friend or foe, who gets caught up in that whirlwind spits blood. It crushes everything in its path. Turn back, or your Toda will be driven insane!” There was a wild look in his eyes. “When the Royal Beasts attacked, the Toda went totally berserk. And then so did the Royal Beasts, with blood gushing from their eyes and noses. You’ve got to turn back!” Fear stabbed Ialu’s heart like an icy blade. Elin … He took a quick glance at the Royal Beasts, swooping and soaring between earth and sky, then leaped from his Toda and whacked it on the back to turn it toward the river. Running over to the horseman, he shouted, “Lend me your horse! And tell the commander over there everything that happened!” The man tumbled to the ground. Ialu leaped into the saddle and took the reins. Squeezing his thighs against the horse’s flanks, he pressed his body against its neck and spurred it to a gallop. It was a swift steed, and the autumn fields raced by. Speeding across pastures churned into mud and littered with the splintered fragments of shattered farmhouses, Ialu closed in on the horde of Toda. It looked like an enormous, shapeless lump. As he approached, the scent of Toda mingled with the stench of blood and offal. Particles of fine dust pricked Ialu’s throat, and he coughed. His horse balked and reared, rolling its eyes. Ialu pulled back on the reins and retreated a few steps to survey the scene before him. The city’s outer wall trembled, and smoke rose above it. The main gate had burst inward, and Toda were flooding through the opening. Those still outside were being pushed along, and their Riders, both friend and foe, were trapped within the seething mass, their faces raised in agony. Within the walls, Royal Beasts swooped down again and again to attack the Toda, while high above them hovered a single Beast. Ialu leaped from his rearing horse and broke into a run, the howling, stabbing wind at his back. A strange odor pricked his nostrils as he neared the wall. He held his breath and climbed over the fallen Toda, slipping through the gate into the city. At that moment, all sound ceased. Shadows plummeted to the ground. Looking up, Ialu saw the enormous winged beasts fall from the heavens like stone. On the back of one fluttered a familiar robe. Then the Beast collided with the ground. “Elin!” he screamed. He ran toward the spot where he had seen her fall, her hair flying in the wind. Wails of mourning rose into the sky, like wind whistling through broken pipes. The surviving Toda raised their heads to the heavens and cried as one. Alu had alighted on top of a tall building. She stared motionless at the ground, without raising her voice in answer. Jesse stood in the saddle gazing down, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Mom! She had to be down there somewhere among the broken bodies of the Toda and the Royal Beasts. But if he flew Alu there, she might drive the remaining Toda crazy again. Making up his mind, he slipped off her back. “Stay here, Alu,” he whispered, his voice shaking. He ran along the roof, searching for a staircase. The only one he found was broken in places. He climbed down it gingerly, clinging to the wall, occasionally sinking to his hands and knees as he searched for a foothold. At the bottom, people milled about fearfully inside the entranceway, but Jesse ignored them and ran outside. The wind was so strong, he could barely stand. Fine dust stung his face, and when he tried to breathe, it stabbed his throat. Hacking violently, he staggered and flailed his way through the dust toward where the Toda raised their mournful cry. Blood-drenched Toda lay with their bellies pressed against the ground. Those that were still alive didn’t even glance at him when he passed. On their backs, bodies drooped like rag dolls, their arms and necks contorted into impossible positions. This scene stretched on and on, all the way to the main gate. In the ash-colored landscape something moved. Someone was striding toward him, pushed by the strong wind as he climbed over Toda carcasses. Jesse stood wide-eyed, gazing at his father. In his arms was Jesse’s mother. Her body hung limply. Jesse stared at her pale skin and at his father’s face. The wail of the Toda ceased abruptly. Silence enveloped the city along with the gray dust.