Griz and Finch looked at me uncertainly. They waited for something to materialize, and when nothing did, they clicked their reins lightly. We continued at a slower pace for another mile, but the oppressive weight only grew heavier. My mouth went dry, and my palms were damp. I stopped again. They were several paces ahead of me when Griz stopped too. He lifted up in his saddle, then roared, “Chizon!” He snapped his horse to the left.
Eben kicked the sides of his horse, following Griz. “Stampede!” he yelled.
“North!” Kaden shouted to me.
They whipped their horses to full gallop, and I followed. A dust cloud rose in the east, thunderous and dark, immense in its width. Whatever was coming, we would barely outrun it, if we could at all. It rumbled toward us, furious and terrible in its power. Now! I thought. A fist pummeled in my chest. Now, Lia! It was suicide to turn around but I pulled hard on the reins. My horse reared back, and I changed direction, heading south. There was no turning back. I would either make it or I wouldn’t. In the split seconds before Kaden realized I wasn’t behind him, it would be too late for him to turn and follow.
“Yah!” I yelled. “Yah!”
I watched the horizon roll like a growing black wave. Terror clutched me, it was coming so fast. The landscape ahead became a jostled blur as we raced to beat the enormous cloud. I spotted an elevated knoll and aimed for it, but it was still so far away. The horse knew the terror too. It pulsed through both of us, blinding hot. Sevende! Hurry! Go! Soon it wasn’t just a single dark mass coming at us but a thrashing jumble of bodies, churning legs, and lethal horns. “Yah!” I screamed. The heat of death bore down on us.
We aren’t going to make it, I thought. The horse and I would both be crushed. The roar became deafening, smothering even my own screams. All I could see was blackness, dust, and a gruesome end. The knoll. Higher ground. And then thunder boomed at our backs, and I braced for the crush of hoof and the gore of horn, but they charged past … behind us. We made it. We made it. I kept the horse going until I was sure we were a safe distance away, and once we were on top of the knoll, I stopped.
I turned to see what the crushing mass of hoof and horn actually was, because I wasn’t yet sure. The sight took my breath away. A wide stream of bison, reaching east as far as I could see, pounded past us.
They moved as one unified deadly force, but as my heart slowed, I saw the details of the animals, magnificent in their own right. Enormous humped shoulders, curved white horns, bearded chins, and anvil heads streamed past. They bellowed a moaning war chant. I swallowed, struck with astonishment. It was a sight I would never have seen in Morrighan and one I’d probably never see again.
I looked over the charging animals, trying to see to the other side, but clouds of dust obscured my view. Did the others all make it? I thought of Eben and his horse’s tender leg. But surely if I had made it to safety and with farther to go, they did too.
I wouldn’t have long before the bison that separated us were gone and Kaden would become the one who was charging after me. I turned my horse and disappeared over the knoll, widening the divide between us.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
KADEN
It was getting dark. I knew she had headed south, and I knew she’d head for the woods. It might give her the cover she wanted, but it was the last place she should go. We always circled wide around the plateau forests because we knew what lurked there. If we didn’t get to her before dark, she wouldn’t survive the night.
Griz and Finch were convinced she only separated from us in the confusion. I knew better. They were equally sure that she had saved all our lives and her gift was as real as the ground beneath their feet. I wasn’t sure if it was coincidence or a genuine knowing. If you fake a gift as often as she had, your timing is certain to get lucky eventually.
I stopped, surveying the line of trees in the south that stood like a forbidding wall. I was chilled, thinking of her riding through it. We had lost her tracks a mile back, and I could only guess where she had entered the dark forest. We split up, agreeing to meet back on the savanna at dusk. I prayed it wouldn’t be Malich who found her. I wasn’t sure who she’d fare better with—him or the beasts of the forest.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
It was a strange forest. Gray moss hung down in curly strands from black trees with trunks as wide as a wagon. The horse balked at first, refusing to go in, but I goaded him forward. Shrill calls echoed around me, shivering into what sounded like laughter. I searched the treetops, looking for the birds that made the sounds, but saw only shadows.
I didn’t have time to think about being afraid, only about what I had to do next. Food and fire. I wouldn’t die in the wilderness as Kaden predicted. I stopped the horse inside a circle of five massive trees, then swung down and untied my saddlebag. I dumped out the contents. All I had were the books, a vial of balm, chiga weed, some scraps of cloth for bandages, a brush, a string of leather to tie back my hair, a bobbin of silk for my teeth, one threadbare change of underclothes, and my tinderbox. Not a morsel of food. Kaden had packed my hoarded stash on his horse, maybe to discourage any thoughts of escape. I looked at the flint and contemplated lighting a fire. I didn’t want to be in this ghoulish forest in the dark, but in the wilderness, a fire would shine like a beacon. I surveyed the hollow. The thickness of the trunks and forest beyond would hide a small fire.
My stomach rumbled at the thought of no food. I couldn’t allow myself to lose the strength I had gained at the vagabond camp, but with no weapon for hunting even the smallest of game, I would have to forage. I knew what lived in the rot of a forest floor, and only the thought of being too weak to flee made me search for it. My jaws instantly throbbed, and my saliva was sour on my tongue. I found a fallen decaying log and rolled it over. It wriggled with creamy, fat grubs.
Regan had dared Bryn to swallow one once, saying that the cadets in training had to do so. Bryn wasn’t one to be outdone, so he gulped the plump, squirming maggot down. Within a few seconds, he retched. But I knew they could sustain a person as well as roasted duck.
I took a deep shuddering breath. Zsu viktara. I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining myself riding back home strong enough to find and help Walther, strong enough to marry a prince I loathed, strong enough to forget Rafe. Strong enough. I opened my eyes and scooped a handful of wiggling grubs into my hand.
“I’m strong enough to eat these and imagine they’re duck,” I whispered. I tossed my head back, plopping them into my mouth and swallowing.
Duck. Slimy duck.
I took another handful.
Wiggling duck.
I washed them all down with a swig from my canteen. Juicy roasted duck. I’d make myself come to love grubs if I had to. I swallowed again, making sure they stayed down.
Che-ah!
I jumped. Another shadow flitted across the canopy. What was skulking up there? I set about gathering dry sticks and moss, then fanned the spark from the flint into a flame. The strange shrieks cut through the air, and I thought that whatever animal made them had to be near.
I added more wood to the fire and pulled the Song of Venda to my lap to keep my mind busy. I used the book Dihara had given me to help me translate the text. The formation of letters in the two books differed. The ones in Dihara’s primer had a boxy appearance, while the ones in the Song of Venda had scrolls and curves, and one letter looped into the next, making it hard to k