Those are horses, she said. They are used to carry humans and those who ride them share a special connection.
Do humans bond with these horses like you can with my kind? Raffa asked.
Sort of. The bond between humans and horses is different, but they are respected among our culture and not used as a food source.
You speak like you know the human culture better than the elf culture.
I do. I was raised as a human and didn’t learn I was elfish until a few months ago.
Did you have horses as a human?
Maija chuckled, I got a horse once I moved to the mainland, but not when I was growing up on the Kewian Islands. There aren’t any horses there.
There are plenty of horses here, Raffa said, seeing the urban sprawl grow. Are you sure they would be angry with us if I ate one?
I’m positive, Maija said. These people live their entire lives with horses. They depend on the horses and are recognized as the horse lords of Kartania. No other culture has such a strong connection with horses.
I wonder what they taste like? Raffa asked.
You will have plenty of food to eat when we reach the ocean. There are fish beyond counting in the shallow waters along the coast.
Raffa silenced his desire to eat as they soared several hundred feet over Aquina. As a child, Maija recalled hearing how the nomadic tribes on the Bareback Plains had come together to form the city at the heart of the grasslands. She could see people staring up at them from the backs of horses and waved at them but couldn’t tell if they saw her. They were likely shaken at the sight of such an enormous dragon. This was one of the reasons why Maija had instructed Raffa to remain well out of archery range.
Once past the horse lords’ city, Maija and Raffa continued traveling through the light of day. Looks like I don’t have to keep a secret from Anders after all, Maija said to Raffa.
If you had let me eat back there, I might have had the energy to take us to the coast faster, Raffa grumbled.
Maija smiled and said, I think she will be receptive to you.
A long silence followed her comment, then Raffa said, That is my hope.
Through the night, Maija began to nod off in the saddle. Several times she caught herself just about to fall over sideways. The sensation would send a burst of adrenaline through her body and she would stay alert until her fatigue caught up with her again. With the sun breaking the darkness, they finally caught sight of the grasslands giving way to the breaking coastline of the Bareback Peninsula.
With Raffa descending toward the coast, Maija thought she could sense a magical being nearby. When they landed on the dry sand above the breaking waves, Maija felt the sensation was much stronger now, a presence like that of Anders and Zahara. Her heart dropped, feeling like it was pushing deep into her stomach, so much so that she felt sick.
I can feel it, too, Raffa said, becoming aware of the being.
Maija began to search the sky and said silently to Raffa, My sister was bonded. It’s possible we’re feeling her magic.
We need to hide, Raffa said. Quickly, under my wing.
Maija did as he asked, climbing off his back and huddling close to his chest. Raffa’s expansive wings blotted out all of the dimming starlight. She stood in total darkness.
What is it? Can you see? Maija asked after several minutes of silence.
Dragonriders, Raffa answered. I see three in the distance. Shield your mind and do not speak until I say so.
Maija formed the protective walls around her mind that Ivan and Anders had taught her. She waited in the darkness hoping the unknown riders would not spot them.
Chapter 75
Max and Tony
“And you’ll tell the others?” Max asked.
The woman from camp nodded, her dark, knotted hair falling into her wrinkled face. “I’ll pass your message along, don’t worry; we’ve been hard set on returning anyhow.”
Max stepped away, about to move on to tell others along the outskirts of the Revolution’s camp about Anders’ message. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned.
The elderly woman he had just spoken to looked at him with expectant eyes. She asked, “Has anyone warned the men?”
“Which men?” he asked.
She pointed her arthritic finger up the forested slope to his right and said, “Many of the men have gone to their fort to celebrate.”
“How far is it?” he asked, guessing that nobody had gone to warn them.
“It’s not far. There’s a natural bench near the ridge. You’ll see it if you head straight up from here,” she said, motioning to the tree-covered hill.
He thanked her and started walking through the trees.
The slope steepened quickly as Max trudged on with tired legs. Slowly he hiked more than a thousand feet before the slope plateaued through the trees above. Breathing heavily, Max grumbled to himself, “Not far, eh? I’ve got two sore cheeks that say differently.” As he stepped out onto the natural bench, he could hear muffled shouts and whoops carrying through the quiet air.
Following his ears, he walked toward the voices and soon saw a log structure standing in a small clearcut. He wondered if this structure was meant to serve as a stronghold for the Revolution if anyone were to smother them below. Even kurr would tire charging up that slope, he thought looking down the steep incline.
With a burst of funneled barroom noise, two men stumbled out of the fort, sloshing mugs in hand. One of the men lifted the wooden cup to his lips and tilted his head skyward, spilling more onto his full beard than he drank.
Great, Max thought with dread. They’re already drunk.
