Makai
When we’d left the valley, in my head the trip to the North only took a few days. Especially on the backs of mighty drakons, I thought we’d be there in no time. The adventure could begin, and we would get to see the world, maybe even be heroes like the stories.
I was so, so very wrong.
I hadn’t realized the clan had people without drakon keepers among them, people Kota called sevan. The warriors alone could have taken to the sky and traveled significantly faster, but we were stuck on the ground with the rest of the clan.
Kota set a fast pace, leading the clan on the back of her drakon. I wondered if she thought about the humans struggling along behind her, or if she even cared. Most of the sevan walked on their own two feet, though a handful of children too young to walk either rode on carts or were carried by their parents. I rode with Shaya on Navi, which I was thankful for. I didn’t think I could have kept up on foot.
But it didn’t matter how swiftly we traveled. The huge mountain range in the distance never seemed to grow closer. I had once thought of Mount Tyir as a great mountain, but as soon as we passed it and the world spread out before us, I realized Tyir was nothing compared to our destination.
They watched us as we traveled closer, ancient giants waiting for foolish trespassers. On the sixth day, I had asked Kota if a god dwelled in each of those white-capped peaks, like Tyir. Her very unhelpful response had been a snort and “of course not.”
Patches of autumn color dotted the mountain range. Aspens, mostly, Kota said. A mosaic of orange and red and yellow, so much more vibrant than any oak or elm that grew in the valley. High above the aspen groves, the forests turned to evergreens. Except the mountains didn’t look green. Instead, the majestic landscape consisted of deep blues and faded purples with patches of white from the snow.
When I asked Kota why this was, she told me to stop asking stupid questions.
We passed through forests, crossed rivers and streams. The land alternated between reminding me achingly of home and ominously foreign. We were so far away from the valley already, leaving behind everything I had ever known, and the farther we went, the more I realized how far we still had to go. The air grew colder with every passing week, until I spent the nights shivering in my hammock, missing the mild temperatures of the valley.
Three weeks into our journey, we stopped to make camp earlier than usual. “A storm is coming,” Kota explained, not to me but looking at Shaya, as if I weren’t there at all. “The wind is picking up, maybe rain later in the night. You’re not going to want to sleep in those hammocks of yours.”
I stopped untying my hammock from the bottom of my pack and looked up at her. “Why not?”
“Valley sleeping gear, as weak as the people,” the warrior named Tam sneered. Kota snapped at him in the Northern language, and he scowled before slinking off to set up his own tent.
Another gust of icy wind blew my hair into my face. She was right, disappointingly. They both were. I had never been concerned about the wind in the valley. In my mind, the wind was a pleasant breeze to cool your face on a hot summer day. It might grow chilly in winter, but that single gust cut through my coat like a threadbare shirt.
“We don’t have a tent though,” I said.
“I’m not an idiot,” she replied, in a way that made it sound like she thought I was. “We have an extra tent. You two will have to share, though.”
“Not a problem.” I glanced at Shaya and grinned, recalling the time we’d both squeezed into a single hammock. A tent like the one Kota had been using would definitely be more roomy. Shaya’s lips twitched, but it was the only response I got out of her. I hoped she remembered that night as fondly as I did. Our world had fallen apart, but with Shaya pressed against my side and her voice recounting the story of NokaMia, for a little bit I had forgotten everything at stake.
Kota stared at me, looking like I’d done something to irritate her. She always looked like I’d done something to irritate her, but I had no idea what. Surely asking questions about the mountains wasn’t enough to make her hate me. When she turned away, I scowled and knelt to reattach my hammock to my pack.
She’s just jealous, Farin said.
I scoffed internally. Of what?
Your magnificent keeper.
I laughed out loud now, drawing Shaya’s curious glance. Kota glared at me, then shouted something at a nearby sevan, who pounded his fist against his chest and ran off to one of the carts that were pulled by larger keeper animals. A few clan members had bears or keepers that resembled elk, but bigger and with antlers like spiked paddles.
I had noticed that no one ever tried hooking up a cart to a drakon.
The man returned with a rolled bundle bound with leather straps, along with four wooden poles a little longer than my height. He dropped the items at our feet and hurried away.
Kota unbuckled the leather straps and pushed on the top of the bundle. It unrolled in front of her, revealing five thick metal stakes folded inside.
I crouched to run my fingers over the sturdy leather that made up the tent. The hide was thicker than the buckskin we often wore for Crossings or hunting trips, stiff but still moderately flexible. The surface felt waxy, probably coated to keep rain and snow from seeping into it.
“Spread it out,” Kota ordered as she grabbed one of the wooden poles.
Shaya and I did as we were told, unfolding the tent the rest of the way so it was spread out on the ground. Kota lifted one end, and that was when I noticed the pockets sewn into the leather, a long sleeve just big enough for the pole. She slid it through until none of it remained exposed. Shaya and I followed her example, each sliding a pole into place, until we had all four in their sleeves. They met in a point at the top of the tent.
Together, we pulled the tent upright. Like most of the clan tents I had seen, the pyramid-shaped structure was a little shorter than I was, so I would have to duck to go inside. I had assumed we were done, but Kota grabbed the stakes that had been rolled up in the tent. I had forgotten about those.
“What are they for?” I asked, but Kota had already turned her back.
She walked over to Ryn and returned with a heavy-looking mallet. “Hold these,” she said, thrusting the handful of stakes at Shaya.
I didn’t appreciate the demanding tone, but Shaya said nothing as she took the stakes. Kota kept one and knelt at the edge of the tent. She slid the pointed end of the stake through a hole at the edge of the leather, then used the mallet to start pounding it into the ground. It didn’t go in easy. Determination settled onto Kota’s face as she swung the tool again and again. Each strike drove the stake deeper into the hard ground, but at a painfully slow rate.
I had nothing to do but stand back and watch. The sound of others hammering stakes into the ground to secure their tents filled the air, each strike of Kota’s mallet echoed by dozens more. I shivered in the wind, which had grown worse since we’d started working, as Kota had predicted. Farin had his feathers fluffed, too, his body rigid on my shoulder. I pulled my coat tighter around me, but it did little against the wind that battered my body. I could swear the branches overhead creaked under the insistent gusts.
Shaya stood nearby, holding the metal stakes, but I caught her staring into the forest. She looked troubled, her expression reminiscent of that time by the lake, after her Crossing. I knew that look well.
“Stake,” Kota said, holding out her hand. A long pause followed before Shaya realized Kota was talking to her. She hurriedly placed one of the stakes in Kota’s palm, then handed the rest to me. I watched as she wandered off without a word, no explanation of where she was going or how long she intended to be gone.
When Kota finished pounding the stake into the cold ground, she reached for another, only then realizing that Shaya no longer stood there. She glanced around with a frown. “Where did she go?”
Holding out a stake, I shrugged. “I guess she needed a second.”
Kota huffed and went back to whacking stakes with her mallet. I stood by, “helping” while she did most of the work. We spread the second tent out on the ground near the first, but I didn’t bother standing around holding the stakes. While Kota worked on the second tent, I went to join Shaya, where she sat on a boulder. She stared absently through the trees, not seeing the trunks or fall leaves or prickly bushes. She was inside her own head again.
I brushed fallen leaves off the boulder so I could sit beside her. “Okay, I know something has been bothering you since we left. What’s going on?”
Shaya bit her lip and kept staring into the forest. Eventually, she let out a slow breath. “It’s nothing. I’m worried, that’s all. Leaving the valley, coming north… Was I too rash?”
I shrugged. “Am I really the person you should be asking that question?”
Shaya cracked a small smile and leaned into me. I put an arm around her, resting my cheek against her head. She felt so small next to me, but I knew what strength hid inside her. She had a habit of either overthinking everything or following her heart without a second thought, only to dwell on it later. One of us had to be wise, but I wished it didn’t cause her so much anguish.
“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I think you made the right decision.”
I could feel the slight movement of her chest as she sighed. “Thanks, Makai,” she murmured.
I brushed my lips against her forehead. “Always.”
“Hej, are you two going to help or just cuddle on a rock?” Kota called.
Shaya smiled ruefully as she pulled away from me. “We’re coming,” she replied. “I guess we should go help before she leaves us to finish setting ours up alone.”
We both slid off the rock. Even in the short time we’d sat there, the stone beneath me had made my butt go numb. I had meant what I said to Shaya—I would never criticize her for following her heart, but why in Tyir’s name were we traveling north with winter approaching? I refused to voice my complaints about the cold, though. Kota would probably call me a weakling babe and tease me about it for the remainder of the trip.
I wasn’t weak. I had gotten that flower and saved Ora. If I could do that, I could handle anything the North brought on.
As Shaya joined Kota to help set up the second tent, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I stopped suddenly and turned, but I didn’t see anything except tree trunks and pine needles. I had been seeing it for days now, flickers of light and motion from the corner of my vision. Whenever I looked, it was always gone.
I shuddered and let out a slow breath. I wasn’t losing my mind. Everything was fine.
Nicole Aisling - Author 