Page 5

A s morning turned to noon, Jai’s heart hurt with a bittersweet memory as he listened to the giggling of the Valor youth when they stared at him and Feng. He recalled how little laughter his own childhood contained.

Only one, a girl paler than the others, kept her distance. Feng’s sister, Sum.

The siblings were not allowed to talk, or so Feng said. By Zayn’s decree. As much as Feng claimed he wasn’t a prisoner, like Jai he was a hostage, his sister tying him to this place and tribe. It dawned on him then that if Sum was Feng’s shackle, Winter was Jai’s.

Jai waved at Sum, but Feng pulled his hand down, shaking his head. Jai bit back a question about her, but was glad to see her smiling, playing in the grasses with what looked like friends.

A fresh gale of laughter brought memories of him and his brothers chattering in their father’s native tongue, while Balbir walked them around the palace gardens. It had been one of the few happy memories he had – yet all too brief, the Sabine putting an end to such activity swiftly.

As such, he had never been as adept at speaking it as his brothers, especially after they had been separated. After all, he’d had nobody to practise it with. But now, in the company of Feng and the Steppefolk, he felt the lost words stirring within.

Even now, he focused on the lilt and cadence of their voices, learning the subtle rhymes of their speech. He practised softly under his breath, the syllables tasting like memory. Feng, ever patient, corrected his pronunciation and encouraged him with quiet joshing.

It was strange to learn from the chatter of infants, for few others would converse openly yet in Jai’s presence. Jai tried not to be offended. He was an oddity, at the very least.

Even as the great furrow of trampled stalks stretched behind them, the Steppefolk dipped on and off the beaten path, their hands deftly collecting the small tubers, herbs, seed pods and grains that grew there. He marvelled at their keen eyes, able to discern the subtle differences in the swaying blanket of green. How connected they were to this land.

Jai remembered the deep love Erica held for her people, when he’d experienced some of her memories after consuming her dragon’s soulgem. He was beginning to understand it.

The thought of Erica was like a twisted knife in Jai’s heart, and he was forced to push the thoughts of her away. Right now, there was nothing he could do for her but hope.

Feng tried his best to teach Jai new words, once Jai had worked his way through the puerile insults he was mostly overhearing. Jai’s new companion gladly shared his knowledge, even stooping to snatch herbs from the grass, explaining the uses of each find, interjecting with Steppespeak wherever he could. Jai listened with rapt attention, amazed by the depth of their understanding of the land and its offerings. But then, Feng too was half Steppeman, like he. And he had known his parents, while Jai... had not.

One of the Steppefolk began to hum a soft, melodic tune. Gradually, the others joined in, their voices weaving together to create a haunting harmony. He strained his ears to pick up familiar words, catching a few phrases here and there. They sang of the vast steppe, of the love for their land and the mother goddess who watched over them.

Jai found himself entranced by the rhythmic cadence of the voices around him, a marching song by all accounts. At times, the song would dwindle to a whisper, a single voice carrying the melody, only to rise again as others joined in, filling the air with a chorus that seemed to resonate with the very soul of the land.

Spring had sprung, if the buds emerging from the grass were any indication, and the afternoon sun was warm enough that Jai was tempted to remove his top. Certainly, several of the men and women of the tribe had done so, with little more than beads and fallen hair to cover their modesty. But his Sabine upbringing held him back, even as his fingers nudged the hem of his tunic.

As the pair ducked to examine a tuber amid the trampled grass, the shadow of a large khiro passed over Jai and Feng, casting a momentary relief from the sun’s heat.

But the relief was fleeting, as Jai saw Zayn glowering down at him. The man snorted, and turned away, but not before his steed kicked a pile of khiro dung in Jai’s direction.

This didn’t bother Jai in the slightest, though, for Winter was rushing towards him, chain clinking, finally within sight of her master.

Catching her in his arms, Jai felt the warmth of her iridescent scales against his skin. He held her close. For a fleeting moment, the world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them, bound by a love that transcended language.

Then the moment was shattered. Zayn’s fist suddenly jerked the chain attached to Winter’s neck, pulling her away from Jai’s embrace with a sudden sidestep. Winter choked and gasped for air, her eyes filled with fear and confusion. Her claws scrabbled at the ground, tearing clods, until she fell back, dragged across the grass like a carcass.

Jai felt his face contort with rage.

‘Bastard!’ he bellowed at Zayn.

Zayn turned, his hand resting upon the hilt of his sword, his eyes dark with challenge. Though he did not speak, the air between them became charged with the unspoken threat of violence.

Jai’s anger threatened to boil over, but the sight of Sindri observing the scene forced him to bite back further words. Jai turned his back instead, spitting into the grass.

Now it was Zayn who spoke, cursing him with a snarled word. Jai already knew its meaning.

‘Half-breed!’

Jai ignored him, but the rest of Valor watched until a snapped order from Sindri set the others moving once more. Jai tried to think of Winter as he took a few breaths. For who knew if Zayn would not take out on her what he was forbidden to do to Jai?

Feng avoided Jai’s gaze as Jai caught up to him, but muttered beneath his breath.

‘You would do well to avoid Zayn’s ire. Should the Kidara refuse you, the Valor will find another buyer if they have no use for you. One that might not be so welcoming.

‘Or he might simply get his wish and get to kill you.’

Jai shrugged at the threat, still simmering with rage as he stared at the man’s retreating back. Only then did he notice something peculiar.

Zayn held no reins. Yet the khiro seemed to be moving with a mind of its own, weaving between the mounted warrior vanguard as Zayn conversed with his comrades.

Of course. Zayn was soulbound to it – what need could he have for reins? Jai looked closer.

He wondered if there was a reason it was so much larger than the others, draped in dark, shaggy fur that cascaded over its hulking form. Its feet, like massive dinner plates, effortlessly supported the behemoth’s weight, while its conch-like ears twisted back and forth. The sheer presence of the beast seemed to command respect, as if acknowledging a force of nature brought to life.

‘Why is it so big?’ Jai asked, trying to distract himself from plotting Zayn’s comeuppance.

Feng glanced at Zayn’s mount before answering. ‘That is an Alkhara – the largest among khiroi, akin to the head of a lion’s pride or an alpha direwolf. They are bigger, darker and bear a silver streak in their tails. Alkhara are the strongest and most dominant of their kind. Every wild herd has one. Many tribes do not.’

Jai looked at the impressive beast. It was no wonder his father had chosen an Alkhara as a sigil for his tribe. He remembered now, Balbir speaking the word Feng just used. But he had long forgotten when, or how.

‘And how did Zayn come to possess such a beast?’

‘Most Alkhara among our tribes are born and raised tame, nurtured by our people before soulbonding with a chosen warrior – those who are respected for their strength and wisdom. But sometimes, a young warrior like Zayn will seek to tame a wild Alkhara during their riting, to soulbond with it.’

‘Is that what a riting is?’ Jai asked.

‘Not always, but for some it is the taming of a beast and gifting it to the tribe – it is usually returned to them. For most who choose this path, they seek a khiro doe, for they are far smaller and more docile. A warrior wishing to make a name for themselves might take on a khiro bull. Zayn... he was bravest of all. He took on an Alkhara, and brought it to the Valor.’

‘He was not of the Valor before?’ Jai asked.

Feng shook his head. ‘Zayn and Sindri were orphans both. They formed a tribe years ago, before they were conquered by the Valor. Sindri married the former leader, and upon his passing, she inherited his position. Thus, she rules.’

Something struck him then. ‘How can they keep you and your sister apart?’ Jai asked. ‘Surely they of all people understand.’

Feng looked down. ‘They treat her well enough. But I am too valuable to them, so they keep my leash tight. Without me, they could never trade with as many tribes as they have. Nor sell their wares to the traders of the Phoenix Empire.’

Jai stared at Zayn’s retreating back, feeling the rage building within him once more. Feng prodded him.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he hissed. ‘An Alkhara-bound warrior is a rare power. Even for a dragon-bound prince such as yourself.’

Jai didn’t doubt it. But it told him one thing: unless Winter learned to fly, and grow to three times her size... there was no way he’d escape here. Otherwise, Feng might have done it first.

His best and last hope was to be traded back to the Kidara tribe. And he had to do everything possible to make that happen.

‘From now on, we must only speak in my father tongue,’ Jai said. ‘I have to learn, Feng.’

‘Then I will teach you,’ Feng replied in the language of the Steppefolk.