The horde King of shadow

Chapter 32KLARA

We landed in a meadow after nightfall. The tall grass brushed at my ankles, and when I looked down, I thought the ground was glowing.

“What is this?” I whispered, crouching. I ran my fingers through the feathery light tendrils of midnight-blue grass and watched it light up beneath where my touch trailed.

“Starlight grass,” Sarkin answered, watching as I swept my entire palm over a cluster. “It only grows here, in the Arsadia. We’ve tried to transplant it, but it always dies.”

I looked up at Sarkin. “Because heartstone magic is still present here? Because of the temple?”

“We think so. Some believe there’s hidden thalara trees in the Arsadia, that they still seep their power and magic into the earth, giving this place life, giving Elthika their vitality. But if there are, there are not many left.”

I stood, watching the grass light up around the hem of my dress. Impractical to wear on Elthika-back, yes, but I had warm protective tights underneath, padding on the i

I’d picked a dress I’d admired since I’d first seen it. A flowy shift dress, a deep inky blue in color, embroidered with silver thread. Simple but…romantic.

Sarkin was in his riding armor, as I liked to call it. Tailored riding trews made out of a thick but flexible soft leather, a black shirt that molded to his shoulders, and a vest of scales with silver catches. With his dark eyes and handsome features, he was every bit what I’d imagined a dragon-rider king might look like.

The basket of meat pies was hanging off my arm—cold now, but they would still be delicious—and Sarkin pulled down his travel bag from Zaridan.

Conversation between us had been nonexistent on the way here, ever since we’d left the horde just after the sun had disappeared into the horizon. The tension between us was palpable, and I felt a little silly in my dress, wondering if I’d misread the situation entirely. But why would Sarkin bring me here? Far away from the village, where there was a celebration in our absence?

The meadow was vast, giving way to rolling hills. A stone’s-throw distance away, there was a glittering lake, small and still. The grass rustled around my legs as I followed Sarkin to the top of one hill, one that had a great view and vantage over the entire meadow.

“This is…” I started. Romantic, I wanted to say. Instead, I smiled, watching as Sarkin unrolled the blanket from the travel bag and laid it down on the hill, flattening the grass, though its light shone through the material. “This place is beautiful,” I finally settled on.

There was a chill in the air, but my shawl kept the worst of it at bay. I didn’t want to dirty the blanket with my boots, so I toed them off, feeling the grass tickle my feet.

Sarkin watched me as I stepped onto the blanket and lowered myself down, highly aware of his gaze and the fact that it had been over a week since he’d touched me, kissed me.

Since he’d knelt at my feet, my back against the cliffside, my body pulsing, and…

I blew out a shaky, nervous breath, and he came to sit beside me, our arms brushing, little sparks that nearly made me jump.

The silence stretched between us as we both looked over the meadow. The night sky above was shining, the glimmer of the moon picturesque. Everything about the Arsadia was beautiful.

I felt the earth tremble as Zaridan sat close by, her head raised to the sky as if in anticipation.

“What are we waiting for, exactly?” I asked. I thought we both heard the double edge to my question, reflected in the gleam in Sarkin’s eyes.

“Every year at this time, there is a meteor event. The migration starfall. The wild Elthika will pass overhead. Right here,” Sarkin informed me, gesturing toward the expanse above us. “They’ll arrive at the Tharken cliffs by the morning.”

A jolt of nerves went through my belly.

“It means the illa’rosh may happen sooner than we think,” Sarkin admitted.

“Really?”

“We follow the Elthika. They tell us when it’s time. They only stay at the Tharken cliffs for a couple weeks. Then they move on,” he said. “You’ll be ready. Don’t worry. Kyavor has been keeping me updated on your progress. He’s quite impressed with you.”

A flush of pleasure momentarily dulled out my nerves. “I suppose jumping off the back of Zaridan over a dozen times really puts thing into perspective.”

Sarkin went quiet, and I cursed myself for bringing up that day. That night.

“When you…” I began, glancing over my shoulder at the Elthika perched to our side. “When you had your own choosing, when you saw Zaridan for the first time, how did you know?”

Sarkin brought his knees up, and he looped his arms around them as I watched the cords in his arm tighten and release.

“Among the Dakkari, there are recorded moments in your history where your own Vorakkar, your own horde kings, have claimed they’ve been led by your goddess, Kakkari. That a feeling of knowing came over them. I believe I heard it referred to as ‘Kakkari’s guiding light’ once,” he said.

“Yes, that’s true,” I said, knowing the exact accounts he was speaking of. “Arokan of Rath Kitala, one of the greatest horde kings of our history, specifically said he felt it when he saw his human queen, Luna, for the first time.”

He inclined his head.

“Whether they felt it for their chosen wives or difficult decisions that needed to be made, it was there,” he continued. “I believe that the Karag feel something similar, though we are not quite as romantic about it as your people. We believe they are deeply intuitive decisions that you feel with your own instinct. That perhaps they are even powered by heartstone energy at times, threading through the earth and into your body, magnetic or electrical impulses.”

“I prefer the romantic view,” I informed him.

He chuckled, low and soft. My shoulders relaxed, wishing I could bottle that richly warm laugh. “I thought you might.”

“That’s what you felt when you chose Zaridan?”

“Yes,” he said. “I camped out on the cliffside for two nights until I saw her. I almost thought I wouldn’t bond with an Elthika at all. The doubt was the worst because it made you desperate. That’s what I think happened to Haden.”

“I didn’t ask because I wanted to talk about what happened,” I told him, biting my lip, worried he might think that. I reached out to touch his arm, though my hand hovered above his skin, uncertain.

He reached out, snagging my hand immediately. He threaded our fingers together, holding tight. I looked down at the back of his hand, tracing over the scars that sliced over his flesh, and then I placed my other hand on top of his. I stroked the ridges of his knuckles and the bones of his wide hands.

“I know,” he said, frowning over at me. “I didn’t think that.”

“What did you mean, then?” I asked. “You thought Haden was desperate?”

“Back then, Zaridan and Lygath were nearly inseparable,” Sarkin told me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zaridan’s ear twitch at the sound of her brother’s name. “You didn’t see one without the other. But Zaridan and me…we chose each other that day. It felt like a bolt of lightning, like Muron’s lightning, struck right through me.

“Haden watched from the cliffside as I took my first flight with her. He saw Lygath, not far away. We had already been there for a while. We were low on sleep. He saw me claim Zaridan, and he went after Lygath. I was too high up when I saw Lygath reject him. When I watched my friend fall to his death.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my expression drawing tight.

Sarkin heard the pain in my voice, and he looked at me closely. He told me, “I’ve made my peace with what happened, aralye. Haden made his own choice. I could not have seen that outcome. I don’t feel guilt anymore, but I certainly used to.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I argued softly. “Not at all.”

“It’s strange the tricks the mind can play on you” was all he told me. “But all of this to say…this time of year always bring these memories forward. This year more than ever.”

Because of me was what went unspoken.

“If you don’t want to do this, Klara, I would free you of this obligation,” he said next. “There has never been a queen of Sarroth with no bonded Elthika, but I feel there is change coming for my people. Perhaps you can be the first.”

He was…giving me a way out?

I breathed out a rough exhale. How easy it would be to tell him that I was frightened. That I was scared an Elthika might not choose me. That I would be an embarrassment to him, to the horde.

But I knew, as surely as I was afraid, that I would never be able to live with the decision to give up.

“I will go to the Tharken cliffs. I’ll claim an Elthika of my own. That I promise you,” I answered.

Sarkin dragged in a deep breath, making his shoulders raise. He nodded.

“There was a part of me that hoped you’d say no,” he admitted. “Because at least I’d know then that you would be safe.”

I jolted. But before I could say anything, I heard the distant flap of wings and a strange symphony of sound.

“They’re here,” Sarkin said, standing, pulling me up with him, sca

He pointed in the distance, behind us. Next to the nearest mountain range, I saw a massive shadow moving toward us.

I gasped when I heard something sizzle musically in the sky and saw a bright white star shoot across the sky in a beautiful flash before disintegrating. “Was that one?”

“Yes,” Sarkin replied, and I could hear the small smile in his tone. I could feel his gaze on me, watching me as I debated what to look at next—the sky for more falling stars or the horde of wild, unbonded Elthika that were coming straight toward us.

I settled on the Elthika finally.

Zaridan trilled, a sound I’d never heard from her before. It sounded like a call. It sounded delicate. She lifted her head high into the sky.

“Thryn’ar,” Sarkin commanded. The earth began to rumble, the familiar sensation of Zaridan pulling energy toward her, and then she launched herself off the ground to join the horde.

To join the celebration, I realized, moments later. Because that was what it was.

Hundreds of Elthika were flying together, very nearly blocking out the entire expanse of the sky as they drew closer and closer.