I decided then not to tell her about our own battle. What would I even say happened? I could barely explain it to myself. “We were only concerned for you. What happened to the Eagle Rider?”
“We managed to critically injure the enemy enough to force his retreat.” Her eyes narrowed. “But they’ll be back. We must leave this area immediately.”
Shazeera fell into line behind Kamil, and the two warriors flanked us as we kept a fast pace west. Reflexively, I kept reaching for the bond with Shazeera again, like prodding a sore over and over with my tongue. Every time I found silence on the other side, it felt like a noose slowly tightening around my neck. What had I done?
Hours passed. Withour camp location over one hundred miles from Queen Jazela’s canyon city of Nazeeran, it was a hard three days on horseback. General Isa and the others didn’t make small talk, so at least I was spared from having to act like I wasn’t rapidly dissolving into a puddle of fear.
What if I can never talk to Shazeera again?
I had never heard of a Zephyrian being able to use magic that could cause a daughter and her horse not to be able to communicate. They were entirely without magic. That left only the wind power I had called upon. And though it had been terrible in its strength, calling upon it had also done something to the bond between Shazeera and me.
Which meant I was responsible for damaging—possibly even destroying—the bond between us.
What if I broke our bond forever?
I shuddered at the thought. I had never heard of a daughter or son breaking their bonds with their horses while they were still alive. The only time it happened was when either the human or the horse died—something that occurred far too often because of the war.
A memory hit me then, of Ama providing mental healing to a daughter named Cassia who lost her bonded mare during battle. Only it hadn’t been to arrows or a sword.
Cassia’s words drifted through my mind again, the pain echoing.The eagle landed on top of my mare, and I knew it was crushing her under its weight. She screamed as its talons raked down her back. I tried to get up…tried to go to her. And then…She’d swallowed hard, her voice thick.The eagle sank its talons into her throat. The last thing she said to me in my mind was, “I love you. They’re coming. Run. Live.” It was the other Children, you see. A small group of warriors had heard my mare’s screams and released a torrent of arrows on the eagle and its rider. The eagle released my mare and flew away—neither of them were even injured. They killed her as easily as a falcon kills a rabbit.
The horror of watching the eagle’s talons tear into her beloved horse must have been a soul-crushing loop in her mind. The loss of her mare had made her a shell of a person. Ama worked with her almost every day for two years before she even was able to smile again. A severed bond only made the grief harder to bear.
We lived under constant threat of this happening to our horses or the people we loved, but the fact that I had brought this on by using a strange power I didn’t understand gutted me. I couldn’t blame our enemy.Ihad done this to us.
The wind whistled past my ears, cooling my sweaty neck as though trying to ease my mind. But I couldn’t take comfort from it, not when there was silence at the other end of my link to Shazeera.
That night, as we camped in darkness, we didn’t dare light a fire. Our horses lay on the ground, and we leaned against them for warmth. At my back, Shazeera’s steady breathing was asfamiliar as my own, but the lack of communication between us felt like a missing limb. I gazed up at the sliver of moon and thousands of stars, glad that we didn’t have more light as tears slipped down my face.
After offering me bread and honey, which I couldn’t bring myself to eat, General Isa and the other five warriors fell asleep almost instantly.
I thought of Ama, with a fear that prickled over my scalp. We hadn’t gone very far before we had been set upon by that first Eagle Rider. Had Ama and the others been attacked, too? Had she regained consciousness? Or was she still strapped helplessly to Nafalla? Even if Ama had woken up, without her ability to shield, she wouldn’t have been able to defend herself much more than I could with a bow and arrow. Surely if the others had all been killed—if my own mother had been fatally wounded by an eagle attack—I would have sensed it. I may not have been able to wield earth magic, but I was of the Sorayan line just like all the others in my tribe. Their blood would have cried out to mine.
Or if not to mine, then at least to General Isa’s.
I squeezed my eyes closed, desperately wishing I were able to discuss any of this with Shazeera. After a moment, she shifted so that her whole body was curled around mine. I wrapped my arms around her neck and pressed my face into her mane.
My mind replayed over and over what had happened with the Eagle Rider, thankful that we were alive. I prayed that the Earth Mother would allow the bond with Shazeera to be restored, even though I had used a power completely unknown to our people. I prayed that Ama and the others hadn’t been attacked like we were. As always, I didn’t hear even a whisper of answer from the Earth Mother.
The last of my hope unraveled inside me, thread by thread.
So that night, I prayed to anyone who would listen to please, please help me. Help my bond be restored with Shazeera. Help me to never have to use that power again.
“Help,” I whispered to the wind as I finally relinquished my hold on consciousness.
It was onlynatural to have a dream about eagles after nearly being killed by one. Only, the terrible thing was, it wasn’t just a dream, but a memory.
Shazeera and I had traveled to the Ridgeline Foothills over a year ago, when our camp had been stationed closer to the tree line. While Shazeera grazed beside a waterfall, I had climbed to the top and stumbled into the middle of a giant eagle’s nest.
In my dream, I could see the nestlings. One of the babies peeped, a sound so small and innocent it drew me in against my will.
There were three of them, their downy fluff gray instead of the golden plumage they would have as adults. The largest of the three looked at me, its dark eyes meeting mine. It ceased peeping, and did nothing but watch me. In the dream, as in real life, I found myself reaching out to it. The truth was that I had always been drawn to all things wind and sky. And this included a morbid fascination with giant eagles.
It took a hesitant hop toward me, its gaze never leaving mine, and I didn’t dare shift a muscle. I kept my hand steady as it came closer. The breeze picked up, ruffling its down and pulling more of my hair loose around my face. Another hop, and I could just feel the soft feathers of its head. I knew what was expected of me as a Child of Earth. These nestlings would only be small and helpless for a short time before growing up to become mortal threats to my people.
But I couldn’t imagine causing any harm to these little ones. Instead, I gently petted the chick’s soft head, and it let out a happy peep.
In the distance, a screech echoed. I froze as cold bloomed like frost across my skin.
