Page 51

A cool breeze tore at Jai’s hair as he rode through the darkness, the lights on the horizon growing ever brighter. He breathed in tandem with Baal, entering the half-trance, letting the mana flow through his body.

Across the Great Steppe, Jai could now see a hurricane of mana, countless motes drifting on an unseen, unfelt wind. This was the sight that greeted him every morning when he soulbreathed. There was so much more mana here. Just as when he’d been in the forest. As if the plants themselves produced it, like a golden rain falling in reverse.

He thanked the heavens for it, as it had been far easier to refill his core here, when compared to the barren lands of Porticus.

Beside him, Winter leaped and chittered, her wings flapping with every bound. With one great leap, she glided for a few moments, before they drew to a trembling close, and she wasback to racing through the grass once more. By now, shewas tall enough that her head breached the top of the grass, for she was as large as a pony.

Jai looked on in wonder. He had dared to wish that one day, he could ride upon her back. Much as he had come to love riding through the steppe, he dreamed of dancing amid the clouds, the great expanse of the grasslands beneath him, like a swathe of emerald rug.

‘Come on, Winter!’ Jai called out. ‘Let’s see who gets there first.’

He kicked his heels, urging Baal on, and the beast responded in kind. Jai held onto his charger’s shaggy mane as they hurtled over the grassland, Winter barking excitedly as she bound beside him. Each time she flared her wings, gliding on the wind, she caught up to him, and he shouted his encouragement, pulsing his feeling down the invisible cord that bound them.

‘On!’ Jai cheered. ‘On, on!’

He had to get back home. Feng would know what to do.

Jai was a khan of a Great Tribe for Mother’s sake. And right on the Caelite’s doorstep. Surely he could buy her freedom, and that of the Huddites.

The problem was time. Who knew how long it would take for the Caelite to find buyers for Erica? Two weeks was a lifetime. He’d been sold to the Kidara, retaken his throne, joined his clan with the Valor and Keldar and staved off the threat of the Tejinder in less than two weeks—

Jai’s stomach plunged, the world turning dark as he fell. Pain ripped through him as he slammed onto stone, Baal’s great weight choking him.

He stared up, at a circle of dark sky above him. And Winter’s head, peering out from its edge. His mind caught up with him. He was in a pit.

Pain. Deep and aching, coming from his legs. He heaved, pulsing mana into his arms as he shifted Baal off his chest, hearing the splintering of wood as he did so.

He sat up, gasping like a beached fish, unable to fathom what he was seeing.

Baal was dead. Speared through his body in a half-dozen places, from the sharpened stakes at the pit’s bottom.

Jai’s leg was skewered through the thigh, the broken spar of wood jutting out from it. He stared at it, unbelieving, pain screaming so loud he could hardly think.

He gripped the stake, and pulled. Blood spurted, thick and fast, and Jai could hardly stop it as he pressed his hand over the wound. With shaking fingers, he managed to burst some of the healing spell’s golden light upon the jagged hole, enough to seal it, and stem the flow of blood. If he’d had any less mana, he would have surely bled to death.

That was little comfort as Jai fell back from the effort, feeling the dregs of his mana that were all that was left in his core. He groaned with pain, feeling his other injured leg beneath him. It had not been speared through, but crushed beneath Baal’s weight. He used a sputtering of the healing spell to heal that too. It was fragile, but the pain faded to a dull ache for now.

Jai cursed, and struggled to his feet, groaning. There was little space within the pit, for it was narrow. He cursed again, and cut Baal’s saddlebags free, tying them about his waist. Then he turned to the wall, as Winter wailed down at him.

The walls were sheer, and lined with a strange combination of clay, mortar and flat slate, seemingly to keep the pit from filling with water. Baal’s body too was covered in clumps of desiccated grass, and the shattered remains of a mat of woven reeds.

A simple trap – one he should have spotted from the yellowing colour of the grass they had used to cover it. If only he’d been paying attention rather than fretting about Erica. How was he going to—?

Clumps of soil rained down from above, and Jai looked up.

‘Winter, no!’

But it was too late, the dragon leaped down, her wings flapping frantically, filling the air with dust as she scrabbled from wall to wall, before reaching the bottom.

Now Jai was sandwiched between khiro and dragon, coughing and choking on the dust-filled air. He tucked his face into his shirt, waiting for it to settle.

He groaned, and pulled Winter close to him.

‘A fine mess we find ourselves in,’ Jai whispered, knuckling her where she liked it, just behind her ever-growing horns. ‘What bastard put this thing here, eh?’

He knew it could not be one of the khiroi-riding tribes. They would never hunt khiroi this way. Nor would any that respected the beasts of the steppe, the way they did.

No, this would be the work of the Caelite or the Mahmut, Jai was sure of it. Their beasts lived not in the grasslands, but in the lower ranges of the mountains. This was meat for terror birds. They cared not where it came from.

Winter purred with consternation, peering upwards, and Jai followed her gaze. And there... he saw them. A face, staring down at them, shrouded by the dark of night.

Then... the patter of feet. A squawking sound, not unlike the noises Winter made. And then the tearing of grass, receding.

‘Winter, help me up,’ Jai growled.

He pushed his fingers into the walls of the pit, his soulbound grip making short work of the mortar there. Water seeped from where he wormed his fingers in, but he was able to haul himself up by his arms alone.

It was hard work, even with his soulbound strength and Winter pressing her head against his rump. Soon enough, though – his face a mess of soil and dust – he emerged from the pit.

He drew his blade, staring at the broken strands of grass as Winter scrambled out behind him. He wanted to follow, but the trail headed away from the Kidara.

Jai swallowed down the temptation. He took a step and almost collapsed. His leg could hardly bear his weight. Winter nudged her nose beneath his arm, and he leaned upon her.

He hopped on his leg and even that was agony. And it would stay that way, until he had enough mana to heal himself. Hours and hours of soulbreathing.

He could not afford that. Not with whoever he’d seen looking down at him, running off for help. Jai needed to get out of there. Fast.

Except fast wasn’t an option.