59

A S CONVERSATIONS CONTINUED to swirl, Nyx struggled to understand how Shiya could be given this dire-sounding title. She eyed the bronze woman, while Rhaif clung closer to her. Jace and Krysh had their heads bowed together.

By now, Arryn had shifted over to Mirash, drawing Irquan with him. The three spoke together. It grew heated, with many glances cast their way.

Arryn pointed to Shiya. “Nee Dr?shra.”

Mirash shook her head, her eyes gone hard again. “Ye Dr?shra.”

More words were exchanged, then Arryn finally relented, broke away, and waved for Nyx’s group to huddle with him.

“What is it?” Rhaif asked. “Who do they think Shiya is? Who is this Breaker of Dragons?”

Arryn shook his head. “To answer that, you’ll need to know more of our history, a history shared between the Chanr? and their nomadic descendants.”

“The Chanaryn,” Esme said. “Our people.”

He nodded. “It concerns a thunderous battle across these lands. Some details have shifted like loose sand in the retelling, especially as our two peoples were separated by distance and time.”

“What battle?” Graylin pressed him. “Does it tie to the great war among the ta’wyn ?”

“I can’t say,” Arryn admitted. “I can only relate what our ancient sagas tell of the fight here. Lost in the mists of time, a fiery battle was waged, so heated and cataclysmic, it melted the sands to form the Shil’nurr Plains.”

Nyx stared to the east. “The sea of black glass.”

“It was fought over by an army of two gods. The forces of Ravka —bright gods with black hearts. And the Kraena —dark gods with gold hearts.”

Nyx looked to Graylin. “Eligor’s traitorous forces called themselves the Revn-kree. Which sounds very much like Ravka. ”

Rhaif nodded. “And their description—bright gods with black hearts—pretty much sums up that army out here. But what about the other force, the Kraena ?”

Nyx looked to Esme’s brother for any further details.

Arryn continued, “Both forces fought in the air above these lands, wielding dire weapons, until eventually the Kraena were defeated, their forces shattered, leaving these lands to the Ravka, to their cruel rule—which brings us to where we are now.”

Graylin frowned. “What does this have to do with Shiya and some Breaker of Dragons?”

Arryn nodded. “The legends say the Kraena were helped by one of the Ravka, someone who broke away after growing to despise their depravities.”

“A ta’wyn who changed allegiances?” Nyx asked. “That’s this Dr?shra ?”

Arryn glanced to Shiya. “The legends say Dr?shra came in the shape of a bronze warrior—a majestic woman. After the battle, the fate of Dr?shra varies, depending on the story. Some say she was destroyed when the Kraena was shattered. Others that she survived and hides among the god’s remnants, maddened and crazed by grief.”

Arryn turned to Mirash, who continued a quiet dialogue with Irquan. “A few of the most devout believe Dr?shra would rise again one day, to return to us and help us break free of the Dragon.”

“But you clearly don’t believe this,” Nyx said.

Arryn shrugged. “I will not put my fate in the hands of prophecy. Nor the lives of those I love. Not again. I’ve come to trust the sand in my face and the burn on my cheek. Nothing else. Not divinations, not the whispers in the wind.”

Nyx knew there was more to this story. From Esme’s soft touch to her brother’s arm, she knew this tale. Still, Nyx suspected there was something else fueling his skepticism.

Esme thought so, too. “What aren’t you saying, Arryn? I could always tell when you’re holding something back. You used to be god-bound. If you’ve turned your back on faith, what do you face ? What is so powerful that makes you doubt your elders’ beliefs?”

“The strength of claws against bronze. That’s what I trust.” Arryn turned to Graylin. “I told you before how the t?wee rarely travel south of the Dragon. At least not far.”

“Because of some risk to them.”

Nyx stood straighter.

A risk? Could this be of use to us?

Arryn continued, “But there is no witchery or mysticism about this. We don’t need Dr?shra to save us. I’ve seen how vulnerable the t?wee can be. I’ve seen them defeated—not by legends, but by strength of muscle and claw. That is what I put my trust behind.” He pounded a fist on his chest. “Our strength. I’ve tried to convince others, but they remain unmoved, too fearful of stirring the Dragon’s wrath.”

By now, Jace was drawn in by these words, rising from the table after talking softly with Krysh for all this time. “You’ve seen the ta’wyn defeated? How and by what?”

Arryn took a deep breath. “You must understand. There are great predators who haunt our lands, true daemons of the desert. Much like the winged beasts with you.”

“You’re referring to the mankrae. The desert sand wraiths.” Jace turned to Nyx. “They’re clearly some form of bat. We’ve discussed this before. After learning of the Chanaryn legends of such creatures.”

“That’s right,” Nyx said.

Jace continued, “We know similar colonies were seeded by the ancients, to be sentinels of flesh and memory, imbued richly with bridle-song, to help bind the colony into a whole.”

“And forge their horde-minds,” Nyx added.

Jace nodded. “These colonies exist in the Myr swamps and out in the Frozen Wastes. So why not here?” He turned to Esme’s brother. “Arryn, can you describe how these bats—these mankrae—attack the ta’wyn ?”

“They always strike in the air. When the t?wee are most vulnerable. The wraiths attack lightning fast, in packs of three or more. They come in screeching, which seems to confound their prey. I’ve seen it myself. The t?wee writhe in the air, the bronze melting under that assault. Once their target is weakened, the mankrae dive in and tear it asunder.”

Nyx had witnessed something like this before, in the Frozen Wastes. The Spider—a malleable Root—had melted under a barrage of bridle-song, unable to hold his bronze form when assaulted.

Arryn added a warning to his story. “But it’s not just the t?wee who are the mankrae’s prey. The beasts kill many of our people, too.”

“As do the Myr bats of my home,” Nyx said. “They’ll kill any threat to their nests in the volcanic Fist.”

“But Bashaliia’s colony is of one mind,” Jace reminded her. “I don’t think that’s true here.”

“Why do you think that?” Graylin asked.

Jace pointed to Arryn. “He told us already.”

Arryn scrunched his face. “I did?”

“From the legend you just shared.”

Nyx understood, stepping back as if struck by the insight. “The Kraena —the dark god with gold hearts—they were the mankrae, only combined into one godlike mind, a powerful united force. When the Revn-kree arrived to seize the turubya, the colony fought back.”

“Aided by a ta’wyn rebel,” Graylin added.

“The Dr?shra, ” Esme whispered.

Nyx continued, “But the bats lost that battle. Arryn told us they were shattered. From that description, it sounds like the horde-mind must have been destroyed, leaving only a loose colony of wild bats, striking out at anything.”

Jace nodded. “Their attacks upon the ta’wyn in the air could just be territorial, but I wonder if there remains some trace memory of an old enmity that still burns in their hearts.”

Graylin turned to Nyx, his eyes brighter. “If this is all true, could you reunite the colony, help establish a new horde-mind?”

“Like you did with the raash’ke,” Jace added. “With such an ally, we might have a chance to lay siege upon the mountain.”

Nyx bowed at the immensity of this task, at the impossibility.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” she warned them. “Remember, I didn’t reforge the raash’ke horde-mind. I helped kill it, to rid the colony of the poisoned taint of the Spider. It was the only way to free the raash’ke from the Spider’s control. Only afterward could that mind rebuild—slowly and on its own. I had no part in that. Even still, it will take many decades, possibly generations, before even a rudimentary horde-mind reconstitutes in that colony.”

Jace winced, plainly recognizing she was right.

She swung her gaze across the group. “How can we hope to do that here? We don’t have the time, the knowledge, or the strength.”

No one had an answer.

Except Esme.

“We must try,” she said softly, looking at her brother. “If there’s any hope for a future.”

Nyx closed her eyes. She rubbed a finger between her brows. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right, but I don’t see how we can do it.”

“Ell masha opaline wry sas,” Esme intoned. “It’s a Chanaryn phrase known to all nomads. All trails start with a first step. ”

Arryn nodded. “It is usually followed by Vas reech a’hen e yow teest. ”

Esme smiled. “Which warns, Don’t look too far ahead or you will trip. ”

Nyx nodded. “In other words, get moving and worry about everything else later.”

Esme shrugged.

“All right, then let’s do that,” Nyx said. “Not like we have much choice. The first step on this road? To find where the mankrae nest.”

Graylin turned to Arryn. “Do you know where that is?”

“Roughly. To the east. Directly across the glass sea from Tosgon. Where the cliffs of Samskrag crumble into the Evdersyn Heep, a labyrinth of mesas, ravines, and broken glass. But it’s death to travel there, even without the threat of the mankrae.”

Graylin turned to Nyx, leaving this decision to her, demonstrating his newfound trust.

“We go,” she said, then nodded to Esme. “We take that first step.”

“I’ll help guide you,” Arryn said, but he offered one further caution. “But the mankrae might not be the greatest danger found in the Heep. There may be one even more dire.”

Jace frowned. “What is that?”

Arryn looked to Shiya. “I told you before about the stories concerning the fate of the Breaker of Dragons. Some claim Dr?shra still lives out there, broken and crazed, hiding among the shattered remains of the Kraena —among those shredded shadows.”

“Among the mankrae,” Esme whispered.

Arryn nodded. “In the Heep.”

“But I thought you put little stock in such legends,” Nyx said.

“I didn’t before now.”

A commotion drew all eyes to the sweep of the blanket by the door. A Chanr? rushed through, speaking rapidly, carrying a scope in hand. Arryn and Irquan confronted him, challenging him.

“What’s wrong?” Jace whispered.

Nyx suspected the answer.

Breathless and grim, Arryn returned with confirmation.

“The Dragon… it’s waking up.”