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“Not anymore!” Daine said emphatically.
Onua grinned. “I have trouble seeing you play soldier, even so odd a soldier as the Riders turn out.”
Later, tucked into a bed next to Miri’s, Daine thought Onua was probably right. It must be hard, having to account for every minute of the day as the trainees did. Why, she’d never get to meet any new animals!
Dozing off, she woke abruptly, feeling trapped. At first she didn’t even remember where she was. Sitting up, she looked around: the five girl trainees were in their beds, asleep. The barracks were silent.
If she didn’t get some air, she’d suffocate.
A window opened over her bed. She pried the shutters apart in time to hear a watchman’s distant cry: “The midnight hour, and all is well!”
Her bed was too soft after so much sleeping on the ground. She cursed under her breath and took blankets and pillow to the floor That at least was firm, and the air was cooler too. She waited for sleep again.
Miri turned over and said clearly, “But I love to ride.” Daine sat up to peer at her. The girl was fast asleep.
She lay back. The badger’s claw weighed heavy on her chest. When she turned onto her side, the thong half-choked her. She eased it and closed her eyes. Sheets and blankets rustled. A blond girl who had snubbed her in the baths snored. Another tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before she settled. Outside, Daine heard a dog’s bark.
A headache grew in her temples. She missed having animals close by. At home, she’d had a ground-floor room. Even in winter she left the shutters open a crack, and never slept cold. Her friends always kept her warm.
Disgusted, she grabbed her breeches from the chest in front of her bed. Her traveling gear was there, including her bedroll. It was the work of a second to dress and stuff her feet into boots. With her bedroll under her arm, she slipped downstairs and outside.
The night air was a relief. She inhaled the scents of field and forest happily, feeling sleepy and content as she crossed the open pasture. The tree that had sheltered the shy ponies that afternoon was there, the ground underneath mercifully free of manure. She spread out her bedroll and, already half-asleep, crawled in. Cloud lay down to support her back. Someone—a pony she didn’t know—lipped the foot of her covers.
“This is much better,” Daine said. “Good night, everybody.” Falling asleep, she knew the free ponies had come to stand nearby and keep her company.
In her dream, she walked down the road with Onua. Instead of ponies, they led people—the trainees—in chains. The night air was thick and sour, and marsh creatures made an incredible noise.
The noise stopped abruptly, cut off. Onua halted. “What’s that?”
A stench fell on them in waves. “Stormwings!” Daine cried.
She was awake and sitting up. Dawn shone between clouds in the east. The ponies milled nearby, restless and afraid. She drew a deep breath, feeling air pour into her chest like soup. Lurching to her feet, she peered overhead. The sky was empty, but that meant nothing. They were coming.
She dragged her boots on and ran for the building; the ponies ran with her. “Ho, the barracks!” she yelled, knowing she was too far away. “Riders!” On the second floor a window was open—her own. “Miri! Onua, wake up!”
A tousled head appeared. “Daine, what’s wrong?” Kuri yelled.
“Get Onua!” Daine screamed. “Tell her Stormwings are coming!” She gasped for breath. At her back she felt wrongness surge.
Kuri vanished from the window. The girl turned, knowing she could never reach the barracks in time. They rose from the trees, the sun’s first thin rays striking off metal wings. The familiar stink fell over her.
Zhaneh Bitterclaws led her flock, homing in on Daine. “Kill it!” she screeched. Her left eye was a black and oozing ruin. “Kill this beast!”
More than fifty Stormwings stooped to the attack. Cold with terror, Daine crouched against the ground. Cloud reared, ordering the Stormwing queen to come down and fight like a horse. Steel claws groped for her as the mare struck at the creature with her hooves. The ponies crowded around Daine, lunging at the Stormwings when they came too close.
Goddess, Horse Lords, get me out of this and I will never, ever sleep without a bow again, she promised.
Tahoi raced onto the field with a pack of hounds, all of them as big as he was. More dogs followed, baying. Seeing rocks nearby, three of them as big as her fist, Daine grabbed them. Her first struck Zhaneh Bitterclaws square on the nose.
“There, you monster!” she yelled, shaking her fist at the Stormwings. “Come close, so I can do it again!” A little dog that came with the hounds wove in and out of the ponies’ hooves to bring her more ammunition.
Black fire filled with silver lights wrapped around a Stormwing. The creature struggled, trying to throw it off: the fire crept into its mouth and blew it apart. More clouds of black fire chased Stormwings to kill them.
Darkmoon came, saddled and trailing his reins. He leaped to seize a Stormwing by the leg. Shaking his prize like a terrier, he snapped its neck.
Other war-horses followed. Behind them ran Sarge in only a breechclout, armed with a fistful of javelins. He threw the first with a yell. Daine gaped when a Stormwing dropped, trying to drag the weapon from its chest. The black man fixed on a new target and waited for his best shot, as calm as he’d been at lunch. Each time he threw, a Stormwing went down.
Onua raced onto the field in her nightgown, her small bow and quiver in her hands. She had an arrow on the string: lining up her shot, she dropped the Stormwing that was her target. Zhaneh Bitterclaws saw the K’mir and screeched her triumph as she attacked.
Daine yelled. Half of the animals went to Onua, ringing her as the others ringed Daine. More horses and dogs leaped the fence to cover Sarge.
Purple fire—Alanna’s magic—appeared, weaving a net around a pair of attackers. They screamed and beat at it uselessly: it dragged them to earth and the hounds. Thunder that was more than thunder pealed. The dogs howled—Daine clapped her hands over smarting ears. The Stormwings shrieked, trying to do the same thing with their steel feathers. Blue lightning darted from the top of the field, consuming each Stormwing it struck.
Near the fence a bearded man in shirt and breeches was the source of the blue fire. It shone around him, and pooled in his hands. Beside him was Alanna, dressed as he was, for riding. Numair was there too, in what looked like a nightshirt. Fire lashed from their hands—purple for the Lioness, black for Numair—to cut the enemy in two.
Zhaneh spoke in her odd language and began to climb; those that were able followed. A wall of their own fire wrapped around them, coloring them scarlet with an edge of gold light.
The bearded man threw a fistful of blue. The red shield consumed it, but the man continued to hurl bolts until the monsters were specks in the sky.
Daine’s knees buckled from exhaustion and shock. Numair came down the rise, looking as tired as when she had first seen him as a man. “I said I’d see you again,” he joked, leaning on the tree.
She grinned at him. “You timed it perfect.”
Darkmoon and the other horses, ponies, and hounds sat where they were, trembling with nerves. Many were cut and bleeding, but—miraculously—none were dead.
The bearded man crouched beside a Stormwing corpse. He must have discovered their smell: he sneezed and put a hand over his nose. Alanna and Onua went to him, Onua leaning on Tahoi for support. A liver chestnut and an iron gray horse nuzzled Sarge, making sure he was in one piece. Daine giggled, and found she was getting the same treatment from Cloud.
Numair offered Daine his hand. Cloud supported her on her free side, and a stranger mare let Numair prop himself on her. “The trainees usually wait till they’re away from the palace before starting any wars,” Numair told her. “The nobles will complain you got them out of bed.”
Daine looked up at him, worried. “Will I get in trouble?”
Sarge had heard. He laughed. “Let ’e
m complain. It’s good for them to be up in time for breakfast.”
When she was calmer, she thanked the dogs, horses, and ponies who had come to her rescue. Only when the men who worked in the palace stables and kennels arrived to retrieve their charges did she return to the Rider barracks.
“Should I go help them?” she asked Onua as she cleaned up. “Some of the animals were hurt. They’ll need stitching and bandaging—”
“Calm down,” the woman said. “There’s a sorcerer attached to each of the stables and kennels, to do any healing. Your animals will be fine.”
Daine followed her to breakfast, envious. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing, to be able to wave her hands and put an end to a creature’s hurts?
Evin and Miri besieged her with questions as she joined them. Why was she in the field? Hadn’t she been scared? Why did the animals fight for her and Onua? She answered as well as she could, but when Padrach and Farant came to ask the same things, she felt embarrassed.
After breakfast, Sarge ordered the trainees to report to the horse meadow for cleanup. Daine helped Kuri to clear a ground-floor storeroom, freeing it to serve as her bedroom. Its best feature was a door to the outside she could leave open. Other than that, it was tiny, just big enough to hold a bed, a storage chest, a chair, and a small table.
That afternoon she helped the trainees saddle and ride their new mounts. By the time everyone took their days-end bath, she was exhausted. She was content, at supper, just to listen to her new friends talk. Afterward, as the trainees got ready for their night’s lessons, Onua beckoned.
“What’s up?” Daine asked.
The K’mir led her to a room across the hall from the mess. “There’s somebody who’d like to meet you.” She opened the door. “I brought her,” she announced, following Daine inside. “Are we late?”
