This time, the hummerlets offer no complaint as we head to the opening of the cave. We step out into the moon-swept plain and everything seems…far cleaner. The dust has settled, the lake smooth and slightly cupped, as if it was subtly drained during the quick rainstorm. I frown, heading toward it, when Fortiss’s hand snaps out and grabs me by the bicep.
“Talia,” he whispers. I glance at him sharply, then turn to see what has so captured his attention.
The cone of dust that I had so carefully formed on the ledge is still there, which ordinarily wouldn’t be much of a surprise…except for how it’s changed.
“That can’t be right.” Never taking his hand from my arm, Fortiss moves us across the entryway to the cave until we’re right next to the small cone, no larger than the size of my palm. When we reach it, he leans forward and plucks it up off the ledge with his gloved hand, turning it over in his palm before offering it to me. I hurriedly replace my own glove and take it from him. It’s solid stone.
“What is this?” I whisper.
Fortiss doesn’t reply, but strides toward the edge of the ash lake, hesitating only briefly before stepping out onto it. I can hear the clunk of his boots on its hard surface.
“It’s solid. Solid stone. Like cement.” He taps his boot experimentally, and a dull thud echoes around the shallow bowl. “All that ash and dust in this basin…you add the slightest bit of water, and, with this heat, it turned to solid cement in barely a quarter hour.”
I stare down at the cone, weighing it in my hand. “We were covered in that dust, especially me. If I’d been outside when it started raining…”
Both of us turn to watch the gamboling hummerlets as they bob and weave near the front of the cave. I look up, but no, we didn’t miss some grand manor house when we stumbled in the first time. There’s nothing but the craggy side of the mountain facing us with one rude cave-like opening.
“You think it’s going to rain again?” I ask nervously.
“Probably, yes. I think we should get up to the top of the ridge as fast as we can and see what we can see. Then we can explore the caves without worrying so much.”
“Fair.”
The wind picks up as we mount the craggy trail, and every chance I get, I brush more of the rock dust from my clothes, my hair. I tuck my gloves into my belt and spit into my hands to clear yet more of it from my face. Fortunately, my saliva isn’t enough for the ash to harden into stone. I’d never thought I’d be terrified of getting caught in a rainstorm, but now I think it’d mean certain death.
Finally, we reach the top of the ridge, and Fortiss lets out a startled cry. I scramble up beside him, then take a sharp step back.
“No,” I whisper.
A massive heap of a Divh lays curled up in a circle in a basin not dissimilar to the one where we crash landed. It looks like it’s been here for easily a century, its enormous body covered over with a thick layer of cement, the ebony sections of its carapace barely visible now.
But it hasn’t been here a century. Wings that once allowed the mighty creature to soar high above the Protectorate all the way to the Blessed Plane are now caked in rock, and its long slender tail spiked at the end curls almost to its head. The creature is almost as large as Gent, and I know it to be one of the deadliest, most fearsome Divhs I’ve ever encountered.
The great scorpion Divh commanded by Lord Protector Rihad.
We stare, dumbstruck at the sight…
And then it moves.
“Talia! No!”
I barely hear Fortiss’s cry as a sudden anguished wail of pain and loss unleashes in my mind. I can’t think—I can hardly breathe—but I know this cry isn’t coming from Gent or from any of the Divhs that are bonded to me. It’s coming from Zhang.
Zhang. I never knew the name of Rihad’s scorpion. I never wanted to ask, especially once my gender became known.Warriors could speak of their Divhs among themselves, but a woman in the Protectorate could be killed if she so much as sounded the name of one of these great creatures out loud.
How many centuries have we lived under such lies? And for what? Forwhat? Because women were better connecting with Divhs? That was our big crime? Not that we were better warriors, not that we were stronger, braver, or better at strategy. But because we couldconnectto these mighty creatures and understand what they need…
What they need.
Another blast of despair washes over me, and I slip, tumble, and fall down the mountainside until I reach Zhang’s head. The hummerlets race up to me and spin around in noisy celebration as Fortiss trails behind me. He stops short as I drop to my knees, coming level to Zhang’s half shut eye.
“Why are you here?” I whisper, lifting a hand as Zhang exhales heavily.
“Talia! Careful.” Fortiss bounds up to me, pulling me forcefully away as a burst of fluid coats the ashy bowl before me. The rock dust burns away.
“Everything about Rihad’s scorpion is death,” he warns. “Its very breath is poison. So is its blood, and so is its skin.”
“Him,” I say quietly, straightening. “His name is Zhang, and he breathes poison because it burns away the rock dust in front of his eyes and doesn’t let it harden to stone. He’s been trapped here, unable to leave, unable to return to the Blessed Plane, Fortiss. When Rihad went down a month ago, he didn’t send his Divh home. He sent himhere. Zhang crashed into this basin, just like we did, but he didn’t recover in time before the rains came. He’s been trapped here ever since.”
