The Horde King of Shadow (Hordes of the Elthika #1)

Chapter 34

KLARA

“Acolyte.”

When I turned, running my arm over my forehead to wipe away the sweat, I saw Kyavor was looking at me as he lubricated the mechanisms on his practice mount, knee-deep in the river.

“You did well today,” he said. I blinked, freezing for a brief moment, and Sammenth nudged me knowingly beside me.

“Thank you, Kyavor” was what I said in reply, inclining my head toward him.

Kyavor had put us through endless riding drills today on his Elthika, the blue-scaled one I’d seen the first day of training on the landing field. For the last few days, I’d been cramming in information on maneuvering the tethers—the leads—and practicing how to loop the tethers around an Elthika without a harness, which would be necessary during the choosing at the Tharken cliffs.

Wild Elthika were not trained…yet. Though there were many nonverbal cues that Sarkin used with Zaridan—like tapping her wing or thumping his fist against her flank or calling her with his cuff—those things were learned over time. Sammenth was still training with her Elthika. The horde—the warriors and scouts for Sarroth—had to work meticulously to train their Elthika. I’d learned it took years, even with some of the Elder Elthika’s guidance.

Me? I just had to get the basics down. I was no warrior, and I never would be. Just staying on the back of my Elthika was what I was most concerned with now. Well, that and actually claiming one.

Kyavor went back to working on his practice mount, which we’d done a run on before the end of the session. It was nightfall already. The torches around the villages were already lit, smoke wafting up from many of the dwellings as families cooked their meals for the evening. But training had been going on longer and longer this last week.

It had been a week since the starfall shower, since Sarkin and I had watched the Elthika migrate west. And every day since, there was a new sense of urgency in Kyavor and my peers. In me , most of all, because I was behind the young riders in instruction time, even with my supplemental nightly lessons with my husband.

Well, not the last two nights, I couldn’t help but think. Sarkin had been away. To Elysom, he’d informed me, with a small group of his trusted riders, Feranos and Levanth included.

I knew why he’d had to go. To inform the council about the heartstones that we believed were buried in Dakkar. Decisions had to be made and quickly.

I only wished he hadn’t needed to leave now , though I knew time wasn’t on our side.

He might not return until tomorrow, but I knew that the moment he did, we would be leaving for the Tharken cliffs. The entire horde was waiting for his return with bated breath, travel packs ready to go. Many would come with us to make camp, to watch the illa’rosh as it unfolded.

Sammenth told me other riders, from various stretches of Karak, would also be joining the choosing this year, though they were staying in their respective territory’s villages in the Arsadia. There were older riders too—some my age or even older—ones who were taking another shot at the choosing. I’d learned anyone could try to claim an Elthika of their own if they were of age, regardless of their instruction. But without it, it was a death sentence more times than not.

None of these things had done anything to quiet the steady rise of my nerves, as each hour passed, as each sunrise came and each moonrise followed.

“Where’s Ryena?” I asked Sammenth.

“Hatchery duty,” she replied. “Mating season is nearly here, so they are preparing.”

The two sisters had become good friends to me the last few weeks. I felt like I was making a place for myself here…despite knowing that soon it would be time to return to Sarroth. Even Vyaria—my grumpy riding partner—had laughed at one of my jokes yesterday during training. It had felt like I’d won something, hearing it. The blood born had been difficult to crack. They were a different breed of Sarrothian, apparently.

It felt good to walk through the village and hear my name called out in greeting. Some would press food into my hand—urging me to keep up my strength for the choosing—and others would spare a few moments to speak to me or to eagerly show me their dwelling, giving me details of how they’d decorated it while I smiled and nodded.

They were a kind people once you barreled through their tough exteriors, I was learning.

Much like Vyaria.

Much like Sarkin.

Ryena and Sammenth had been different from the beginning.

“I’ll never know everything there is to know about this place,” I confessed. We meandered our way down to a quiet place along the rushing river. My body was exhausted. I was dirty and hungry, and I missed my husband, whose absence I had felt especially keenly the last two nights.

We were good. So good. When he left, it felt like a small loss, a lost limb.

I hadn’t expected to miss him so much. I was surprised to realize how much he’d taken root inside me, filling up all my lonely places. When he was gone, I felt an aching emptiness.

“You’ll learn,” Sammenth assured me. “You’ve only been in Karak for…a month? That’s no time at all. I was born here, and I still don’t know everything. That’s the beauty of it though. The exciting part of discovery.”

I grinned. “That’s how I felt at the archives. Every day there was possibility to learn something new. I just think I’m frustrated because I don’t have the basic understanding of your people like you do. Of the Elthika. I don’t even know when mating season is for them. Or how the hatchery works. Or what’s going to happen at the choosing.”

Sammenth smiled. “Well, that’s easy. You see an Elthika you like, and you jump on their back. Done.”

“I meant ,” I said, chuckling as I shook my head, “logistics. Do they drop you off somewhere? Do you share cliffs with the other acolytes? What happens if you go after the same Elthika? What happens if the choosing continues for days? Where do you pee ? What if you don’t bring enough food? What if a storm rolls in from the coast? What if all the Elthika are gone by the time we get there?”

“All right, all right,” Sammenth said, looking at me in disbelief. “I get it. You’re nervous.”

“I’m not even nervous about falling,” I admitted softly, blowing out a soft breath as I looked out over the river. Behind us, a group of younger Sarrothian—not the acolytes—laughed and chattered as they passed by. Kyavor was still methodically greasing his contraption in the middle of the river, and I watched little waves splash into his boots, though he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m nervous about disappointing Sarkin. Kyavor. You and Ryena. The horde.”

“You can’t think like that, Klara,” Sammenth urged, taking my hand and squeezing it.

She reminded me of Sora, I realized. Open and courageous and extroverted and confrontational. They both never backed down from anything. I wondered how my friend was doing in Dothik, if Dannik had given her my goodbye letter, as he’d promised.

“You need to block all that out. Block out all those other worries,” Sammenth said. “Where you’ll pee ? Really? It doesn’t matter! You’re in the illa’rosh ! All of your focus should be on scanning those cliffs and waiting for your opportunity. The choosing can last days. The longest one lasted nearly a week. Most are over by nightfall. What happens, happens. You’ve prepared yourself. You’ve worked hard with Kyavor. You’ve worked even harder with Sarkin. You’ll be fine, Klara, but only if you focus.”

I hadn’t told her about Lygath. I’d dreamed about him almost every night this week, but I hadn’t told Sarkin. He wanted me to steer clear of the Elthika I’d seen in my visions for almost a decade. But I didn’t know if I could. If the bonding pull was really as strong as everyone said, would I have a choice?

Sammenth sighed and then continued, “We ride out during the dawn. We’ll reach the Tharken cliffs by the late morning. You can choose where you want to be, whether that’s alone or with others. My advice? Go it alone so you’re less distracted. Other acolytes might try to get into your head. And choose a place high up along the cliffs.”

In case I fall, I knew. I listened to her carefully, cataloguing everything I could. “All right. What else?”

Sammenth looked up at the night sky, twinkling with beautiful constellations I recognized, as if trying to remember her time at her choosing. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to forget a single detail. “Keep up your energy with regular meals, but don’t eat too much. If it’s a longer choosing, sleep. If you’re tired, you’re more likely to make a mistake. The Elthika will move around. They’re just as curious about you. Though watch out for their tails if they try to show off in front of you. They’ll…preen. They like to be admired. During my choosing, one nearly whacked me off the cliff by accident.”

I bit back a smile. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” she said, sighing. “Don’t try to be a hero and go after a Vyrin. That’s how most acolytes die.”

My belly dropped with her words. I nodded.

“This was helpful,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Oh, and if you need to pee, try to do it over the cliff. The ledges are already small enough.”

I laughed. “Noted.”

“You’ll know your Elthika when you see it, Klara. Don’t worry.”

“Did you feel the bonding pull when you saw Orelle?”

“Oh, yes,” Sammenth breathed. “Heartstone magic, I think. Whatever is left of it. It’s actually wild thinking about it. Some scholars in Elysom dedicate their whole lives trying to understand it. Me? I don’t think it should be understood.”

I licked my lips. “And have there ever been reports of a bonding pull that’s been rejected by an Elthika?”

Sammenth frowned. “None that I’ve ever heard, no.”

Relief went through me, however brief it was. That was promising at the very least. I watched as Kyavor finished working on the mount, packing up his supplies, and trudging out of the river. I knew he had a dwelling close to the landing field, and he set off in that direction after a small nod at both of us.

“Well…except for a disgraced rider,” Sammenth amended, shrugging her shoulder. “But that happens so rarely.”

“Disgraced?” I asked, brow furrowing. “An Elthika can decide to leave their rider?”

“If the crime, in their eyes, is terrible enough, yes,” Sammenth said. “Only a few in Sarroth’s history have ever had that happened. The last time it happened was, you know, to the Karath ’s father.”

Shock wiggled into my breast. “What?”

Sammenth blinked, frowning. “To Sarkin’s father. Tyzar rejected him after he stole the Elthika eggs? Surely you…oh.”

My mind spun.

“Sarkin…he never speaks of his father,” I said, feeling the obvious discomfort from Sammenth. “Or his mother, for that matter.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “Ryena will be so angry with me. I thought you knew…because well, everyone knows. It’s followed Sarkin like a disease his entire life.”

“He told me…he told me he was challenged a lot after Zaridan. Because some didn’t think he was fit to be a Karath .”

“That’s part of it, yes. Especially by Elysom. His aunt is on the council. His mother was her sister.”

Suddenly it felt wrong to speak of these things. Sarkin hadn’t brought it up, though he’d given me an opportunity to the night of the starfall. He’d told me I could ask him anything and he’d tell me. Since then, we’d just been…happier. I hadn’t wanted to shake anything loose when we were finally on steady ground.

I heard an Elthika’s trilling cry into the sky, a familiar one. I turned to look over my shoulder, my heart beginning to pound.

“Zaridan,” I breathed, seeing her fly toward the mountain behind the village to rest. “They must be back.”

I stood, suddenly eager to see Sarkin, despite what I’d just learned.

“Ryena always scolded me for saying too much,” Sammenth said, biting her lip as she looked up at me from our place along the riverbank.

“I won’t say anything to her,” I promised.

“I really shouldn’t talk so much,” she sighed. “Go. Go find your husband. I’m sure you’re eager to see each other.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promised, waving at her as I left.

I looked for Sarkin for long moments but couldn’t locate him. Thinking that maybe he’d already gone back to our dwelling, I went there, seeing that Sammenth had disappeared from the riverbank. I spied her walking down the path to the hatchery, likely to see Ryena.

When I reached our home, however, it was dark. Sarkin wasn’t here yet. Nevertheless, I lit the hearth and the wax candles that dotted the dwelling, golden light spreading across the furniture and dark stone walls. I was filthy from training, thinking to wash quickly before Sarkin returned. I stripped off and hopped into the heated bath, nearly groaning my relief as I sat on the ledge that ran along the edges, the water lapping at my collarbones.

As I soaked, I thought about what Sammenth had revealed about Sarkin’s father. A disgraced rider? I hadn’t thought such a thing was possible. I wondered why he’d stolen dragon eggs. I remembered Sarkin mentioning the Hartans, wanting the eggs before a war broke out. Had that had anything to do with it?

And what about his mother? How did she play into all this?

Only Sarkin could tell me. I only wanted him to tell me. But with such little time left before the choosing—the realization that we would likely leave tomorrow, which spread icy worry in my belly—I thought it could wait.

I was so lost in thought, I didn’t hear when Sarkin entered our dwelling.

I heard the quiet snap of the door bolting into place, and when I looked up, I saw him watching me through the gossamer curtains that separated the bath from the rest of the dwelling.

He held his travel bag and another bag, both of which he placed on the ground.

A sizzle of anticipation went through me as he approached, toeing off his boots, slipping off his vest, his tunic following. The laces of his trews were next as I felt my nipples pebble beneath the hot water.

Then he was naked, pushing back the curtain. The golden light made him look like a statue in Dothik of a Vorakkar of old. Perfectly sculpted, harshly beautiful, with a merciless expression.

“Welcome home, Karath ,” I said quietly.

“What a beautiful welcome it is, Sorrina ,” he answered, stepping down into the bath to join me, those swirling eyes never once leaving mine.

I licked my lips as I watched him approach.

“Do we leave in the morning?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Sarkin reached me, sinking down to take me into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck. He smelled like Zaridan. Like salty coastal air and crushed leaves. I breathed him in harder as black Elthika-scale dust floated in the water around us from his palms.

“Yes,” he replied. “I made sure to fly over Tharken on our way home. The Elthika are waiting. They are ready. We will leave at dawn.”

I ignored the sizzle of nerves. I would worry about it in the morning. Nothing would change now.

“Then let’s enjoy tonight.”

“Yes,” he rasped, pulling back so he could capture my lips. His hands roamed, and I arched into his touch, a gasp driving away all thoughts of the choosing. “Let me enjoy you, my aralye .”