3
YUMA
The rain pounding against her hat brim thudded in her ears. The sky, even wider than the endless steppe, was covered in black clouds. There were still hours to go until the sun set, but the world had already entered a strange night.
“… can’t… this…”
Aidan, who had painstakingly made his horse climb up the hill to her, could scarcely be heard over the sound of the rain.
“What? Come closer, I can’t hear you!” Yuma shouted, gesturing at him to approach. With her other hand, she gripped Falco’s reins and a handful of his mane. Falco, whipped by raindrops, shifted with displeasure and restlessness. His black coat looked somehow blacker when soaked with rain.
Aidan’s horse took a few steps closer. Rivulets of rainwater poured off Aidan’s hat and his short gray mustache. The light hit just the right side of his face, which was permanently unmoving and had a blue tinge; the lighting made him look even more serious than usual.
“We can’t go farther like this. We need to signal the Grim King and pay his due!”
The clouds and rain were indeed a sign that the Ruler of the Merseh Steppe wanted his share. The rains would not cease until oroxen were given over to him.
Yuma bit her lip. Down the hill, their herd of oroxen surrounded the kitchen carriage, both herd and carriage protected for now by the song of the Host. Lightning flashed in the clouds ahead, dimly lighting up the ground below, making the oroxen uneasy. They were a hundred times as massive as she was, but they were also as skittish as rabbits. Once the Host exhausted himself and the thick strands of rain started hitting their backs, the oroxen would flee every which way.
Northward, thirty herders were striking camp, collapsing tents and putting away bedding. There was still plenty of grass in these parts for the oroxen to graze, and they could easily spend another moon here. As long as the Grim King didn’t interfere.
Aidan shouted, “Chief! You must send the signal of supplication! We have much ground to cover before we leave the Grim King’s backyard!”
Yuma brushed rainwater off her coat and firmly shook her head.
“We shall not!”
Not this year. The Grim King must learn that harming his people would mean harming himself. Aidan half opened his lips and murmured something but gave his horse a kick and descended back down the hill.
There was a strange movement on the edge of her vision. Turning to her right, she saw that a patrolling horse had fallen on therain-flattened grass. Her horses were well-trained, but a younger one might have been spooked by this crushing weather. Its cries would be enough to determine how seriously it was hurt, but it was impossible to hear anything over the rain.
She could hear Falco’s hooves splashing in water, though. There was not a river or stream in this region, only the tall grass that grew up to her waist, and yet the land was flooding. Did the Grim King not care about anything other than his tyranny? Would he not be troubled if they all drowned?
Yuma gave a long sigh as she realized that her hat only limited her sight and was not shielding her from the rain. She took it off, hooked it onto her saddle, and gave a kick into the sides of her horse. The rain pounded her scalp as Falco shot like an arrow through the falling curtains of water.
“Chief!” young Rizona shouted, the first to recognize her as she approached the group of herders.
“Rizona, whose horse was that? Is the rider hurt?”
“Jed, it’s Jed’s…”
But Rizona was not looking at the fallen horse. Her eyes were gazing above, as if following a bird.
Yuma realized the other herders were also looking not at her but at the sky. She followed their gazes, and there was indeed something up there darker than the dark sky. A great roar sounded like thunder through the rain.
Without hesitation, Yuma grabbed the crossbow that hung on the left of her saddle and aimed at the shadow above. She pulled the lever on the bottom, hearing the bolts click into place. Without blinking away the rainwater in her eyes, she pulled the trigger. Almost at the same time, the shadow shrieked once more.
Something fell from the sky onto the fallen horse with a thump. A bloodied Jed. He gasped and moved slightly—still alive, but only just. Yuma pulled the lever and aimed again.
Just before she could shoot, someone shouted, “It’s coming!”
The black shadow swooped toward them at enormous speed. Before Yuma could even command her horse, Falco leaped out of the way, just dodging the giant thing that landed right where they’d been.
It was not a bird or a bat, though it resembled both. As large as an orox, it was covered in scales. The monster got up on its hind legs, spread its webbed wings, and roared. A smell of rot enveloped them, a stench of death not even the rains could wash away. From its snake-like, four-eyed head unfurled a blue tongue.
The herders reared backward on their horses. Jed, who had fallen from the sky, was barely breathing. Yuma fired her crossbow. The monster flinched, but it was impossible to tell if her weapon mattered at all. The Grim King’s dead servants knew nothing of pain or fatigue until they died again.
“What are you all doing? Draw your bows!”
