Chapter 16: Qilani II.

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  Along the Sotria river, Month: 94, Year: 226.

  Qilani stood in the shallows, her clothes dripping with foul-smelling water. Something slimy clung to her hair; she flicked it away without daring to learn what it was. At least they had escaped, and Princess Sulaye was beside her, fingers curled tight around her hand.

  Water poured on top of her from the sky, the air was damp and cold, filled with scents she could not name. Green shapes rose from the mud, taller and wider than any mushroom she had known in Kalista, likely not even mushrooms at all.

  Are they … Plants?

  She looked around, then stared upward, and her breath faltered.

  Is that the sky?

  An endless expanse stretched above, crowded with countless lights and shimmering paths of color. Part of it vanished behind the towering green growths or dark moving silhouettes that poured water down on them, as though the surface world itself wanted to clean her and to move from her spot to learn its secrets.

  Drawn to a patch of open ground, she stepped forward, but her foot struck something beneath the water. She bent to retrieve it, glimpsed metal flashing in the dark, and she found a dagger waiting for her hand.

  Her awe of the world around and the dagger in her right hand was interrupted abruptly by a pull in her left hand. “We should return to where the rest are,” Sulaye said, her small voice trembling. “What if Princess Ashani finds us?”

  “Of course, your highness.” Qilani lifted the dagger by its hilt, comforted by the weight of the cold metal and the idea of having something to defend herself and Princess Sulaye if need be. She examined its strange craftsmanship, wondering who had carried it and why it was here.

  She heard a voice from the dagger call for her, then darkness.

  When she next opened her eyes, she was aboard a wooden ship. The river groaned beneath it, and the workers of Kalista lay huddled in sleep. Sulaye breathed softly against her shoulder. If someone had asked her last month where she imagined herself by now, Qilani would have never guessed it would be: on the surface, sleeping on a Haksari ship that sailed the Sotria River.

  Qilani eased herself free, letting the princess’s head settle gently onto a folded cloth. She slipped between the sleeping workers, careful not to stir a single one. The warmth they shared faded with every step she took toward the corridor.

  By the time she reached the deck, her breath had turned to mist. Ice drifted past the hull in broken shards, and the fields along the riverbank lay silent under the darkness of the long night.

  She reached for the dagger, wrapped in an improvised sheath at the side of her right thigh, the same blade she’d lifted from the stream the night they abandoned Kalista. Its edge gleamed, ordinary but unsettling. Not blessed by Auron nor holding any other apparent form of magic, yet somehow not silent.

  Qilani tucked the dagger away again. The night pressed in around her, colder and darker than the tunnels of Kalista had ever been, colder and darker even than the rainy night when they had been forced to flee Kalista.

  A soft voice broke her thoughts. “It’s freezing. Why are you out here?”

  Sulaye stood at the doorway, hugging her arms to her chest.

  “Princess!” Qilani startled. “I only wanted to stretch my legs. But you’re right, it’s freezing. Come, let’s go back inside.”

  The princess gasped. “I’ve never seen the long night from outside the tunnels,” she whispered.

  Qilani followed her gaze. Above them, the great traveler Auron stood before Solenya, swallowing every bit of light that should have warmed the day. Without Auron blocking the sun, it would have been bright and cloudless; instead the world lay dark, barren, and growing colder with each passing breath.

  Even Auron’s usual radiance was gone. The giant planet loomed like a void in the sky, a circle so dark it refused even to let the light of the stars come through.

  I wonder if Zulanah is seeing this sky, Qilani thought. No… hopefully she’s somewhere warm, and under shelter.

  “I couldn’t keep my promise again,” Sulaye whispered.

  Qilani frowned gently. “What promise, princess?”

  “I promised Wahali I’d take her flying.” Her voice cracked. “But she’s in Kalista and I’m here… is she even safe?”

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  Qilani knelt so their eyes met and wrapped her arms around her. “You haven’t failed, princess. Captain Tekira, Onahi, me, everyone. We’ll do everything we can to set things right. Just like before.”

  “Do you promise?” Sulaye asked, wiping tears from her cheeks.

  Before Qilani could answer, a loud sound split the silence.

  Davuuuu! Davuuuuuu!

  The warning horn sounded from the mast, a sound meant to summon every ear on the ship.

  Davuuuu! Da! Davuuuu!

  Another blast answered from the shoreline.

  Qilani and Sulaye hurried toward the rail on the opposite side of the ship.

  “There,” Sulaye whispered, pointing across the dark water.

  Walls and buildings crowded the riverbank, unfamiliar shapes and lights against the darkness. Qilani had never seen a Haksari city before; she’d only heard they built mostly on the surface, beneath open sky instead of underground. The rumors were true, and yet the sight still unsettled her. It seemed too still and too quiet, despite the many shapes atop the walls. Perhaps because of the cold, or the darkness, almost the entire city had somehow fallen asleep.

  “I wouldn’t know, your highness,” she murmured, “but I think we’ve finally arrived.”

  The princess signed, “Finally. I was getting so cold.”

  Qilani drew her close, rubbing warmth into her arms. “Not much longer, your highness. I bet it's warm inside.”

  Footsteps echoed across the deck, some light and human, others heavy and uneven, belonging to the creatures the Haksari rode, the ones they called horses.

  What had been a motionless deck now bristled with activity. Heavily clad Haksari emerged from hatches and accompanying ships, tightening straps, checking weapons. Far ahead, torchlight seeped out from the city, held aloft by figures Qilani could not yet distinguish.

  Amid the commotion, Qilani finally spotted familiar faces. Lord Ottelio shouted orders over the din while Onahi stood off to the side, watching as Haksari men and women hauled crates and sacks toward the unloading ramp.

  The ship slowed to a halt. Ropes shot across the gap, weighted by heavy metal hooks that clanged against the dock before being pulled tight, anchoring the vessel against the river’s pull.

  One by one, the Haksari disembarked with their horses beside them, boots and hooves thudding across the wooden platforms.

  From several steps away, Onahi noticed them and signaled sharply. She ascended the stairs in quick strides.

  “Princess. Otto and I will be the first to enter. We haven’t been officially granted passage, and we need to show good intent.” Her gaze flicked to Sulaye. “Your presence will help. Please, your highness, come with us. They must see we pose no threat.”

  Sulaye pressed herself behind Qilani.

  “Please, princess,” Onahi insisted.

  Sulaye nodded, though hesitation lingered in her eyes.

  “Is this the place?” Captain Tekira strode toward them.

  “Yes,” Onahi said. “The city is ruled by Lord Ottelio’s family… in a way.” She quickly explained the situation: she, Qilani, the princess, and Otto would enter first to request permission from a Haksari lord named Achello.

  Tekira raised a brow. “And you want me to wait?”

  “Captain…” Onahi shifted her weight. “The Haksari tend to be distrustful of us Drakvari.” She said hesitantly. “Drakvari warriors make them especially uneasy. I'm sorry, but their instructions were… specific. Please, allow us to try first.”

  Tekira’s jaw tightened, then relaxed. She nodded once, curt but accepting. “Very well.” She looked at Qilani. “Please, watch over the princess.”

  And so Qilani and Princess Sulaye followed behind Lord Ottelio and Onahi, flanked on all sides by Haksari riders on horseback. They moved through a broad corridor hemmed in by high walls, each lined with a dozen archers waiting in eerie silence.

  Sulaye drew closer to Qilani’s side. Lord Ottelio and Onahi paid no mind, already lost in a fast-paced discussion in the tongue of Solenya, an unfamiliar language that Qilani could not untangle.

  Qilani watched Onahi walk ahead, her gauntlet reflecting torchlight from the walls, images moving on the almost perfect mirror that covered the dorsum of her hand. Onahi was of the worker caste like herself, but she was older than Qilani and they had never met in Kalista. Nevertheless, several voices had been gossiping about Onahi on the ship: how the timid and unremarkable worker had taken the assignment no one else dared to, living in the Haksari city of Ferano to teach the language of Auron to the children of important Haksari groups.

  A quarter-year later, she appeared to be a different person: a skilled archer with unnerving control of her blessing; her prowess in the rescue mission had been praised even by Kalista’s warriors.

  Zulanah would have leapt at such an assignment, Qilani knew. But after a childhood filled with warnings about the Haksari and their violent nature, Qilani wasn’t sure she would have accepted it herself.

  Despite all the stories she’d heard about the Haksari, Lord Ottelio and Onahi seemed perfectly at ease with one another. He shook his head; she answered with a smile. Then both suddenly glanced her way, switching to the familiar tongue of Auron.

  Oh no, they caught me staring, Qilani thought, looking away too late.

  Onahi spoke first. “Hey. I can call you Qilani, right?” Qilani nodded. “Good. So… what would you do if a stranger pulled your tail out of nowhere?”

  Qilani blinked. Where did that come from? “I’d get angry,” she said. “Probably slap them.”

  Onahi looked triumphant. “See? It 's obvious.”

  “It is not obvious,” Ottelio muttered, already appealing to a mounted Haksari rider at his side. Qilani couldn’t follow the argument in the tongue of Solenya, but the woman sided with Onahi, judging by the laughter of Onahi and the way Ottelio buried his face in his hands.

  What strange argument did I just get into? Qilani thought.

  Her questioning ended abruptly as voices erupted from the walls. Lord Ottelio traded words with the guards posted above, and soon the gate rose to let them through.

  Her thoughts were cut short by shouting from atop the walls. Lord Ottelio called back to the Haksari above, and after a brief exchange the gate before them groaned upward, granting passage.

  Qilani’s gaze darted around. She had never set foot in a Haksari city, she had never even walked the surface until this month. Now she was being escorted straight into what felt like enemy ground. Faces appeared in windows of two- and three-story buildings, peering down at them as if they were some circus freak. Doors scraped shut behind them, locks turning, shutters closing, the whole city bracing for… something.

  Sulaye tugged at Qilani’s sleeve. “How do they keep those lights on?” she asked, pointing to the glowing orbs lining the path atop tall metal posts. They weren’t mushrooms, and they clearly weren’t fire. Qilani had no idea how they worked.

  “Magic, your highness,” Onahi said, glancing back with a soft smile. “They extract it from plants, refine it, and use it to power all sorts of things, those lamps included.”

  Qilani encouraged Sulaye to study the lights, better than paying mind to the curious, wary gazes watching from the windows.

  From behind one of the lamps, a small winged creature darted into view, hovering beside the light in quick, nervous strokes. Qilani followed it with her gaze in wonder. She had seen many odd insects since leaving Kalista, but none at all since the long night had begun, most had surely taken shelter from the cold.

  The creature settled on her shoulder. Its wings shone like sheets of silver, its small body golden and reflective as metal. The creature leaned toward her skin, apparently seeking heat.

  It seemed to pose no threat, so Qilani allowed it to remain there.

  Past yet another set of walls rose a structure that towered above the rest. It bore the unmistakable air of a place where decisions were made.

  “This is their castle, your highness,” Onahi murmured. “Not nearly as large as Kalista’s palace, but it fills a similar role.”

  “Does their Queen live there?” Sulaye asked.

  “No, your highness.” Onahi shook her head. “It's only kind of the same idea, but not exactly. I'll explain later.”

  Qilani and Sulaye kept pace. Guards approached the group at the entrance, and Ottelio stepped forward to speak for them.

  “What a cute bug,” Onahi said, pointing at Qilani’s shoulder. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

  “Really?” Qilani blinked. She’d assumed such creatures were common on the surface.

  “Let me see,” Princess Sulaye said, stretching onto her toes.

  Qilani knelt so the princess wouldn’t have to strain.

  “It’s cute,” the princess declared, reaching for it.

  Before her fingers could touch, the tiny winged creature darted into the air and vanished.

  “I’m surprised it can even fly in this cold,” Onahi muttered, folding her arms tighter to her body.

  “Come. Follow me!” Lord Ottelio called.

  They fell in behind him. Even indoors, the marble floors and broad halls offered only the slightest relief from the cold; the air still bit at their fingers and ears.

  They were finally ushered into a chamber where a richly dressed Haksari reclined on a throne. Like Ottelio, he was slender and not much taller than herself, but with hair that grew strangely in front of his ears.

  A taller guard stepped three paces forward and spoke in the tongue of Solenya. Qilani caught none of it, but Onahi stepped into the role of translator without hesitation.

  “Lord Achello Calesso of Lamor extends his hospitality and welcomes you into this faithful city.”

  Qilani's Campaign.

  Chapter 16: Qilani II (Part 2).

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.