“You’ll let Sonara inside the pen,” Soahm commanded, that very same stone hanging from his neck. He placed his palm over Lazaris’ pommel. “Give her a chance.”
The gate opened with a creak as the storm rumbled overhead.
Sonara stared at Soahm blankly.
Go on, he seemed to say, with a nod of his head.
She swallowed, heart racing as she stepped slowly inside. Gently, she removed Duran’s bridle and looped it over the railing. She ran her hands against Duran’s side, as if she were running a brush across him. Easy, so easy, she stepped closer.
“You and me,” she whispered.
Murmured laughter sounded behind her, but she paid the riders no heed. She was used to drowning out the sounds of the world, the whispers. The lies.
Soahm gave her a leg up, and as she gently settled atop Duran’s back, armorless and light as the air around them… something in her soul felt like it was home. Soahm commanded the gates be opened. They creaked with a warning groan, as if even the gates knew she should stop.
But Sonara leaned forward and dug her fingers into Duran’s thick mane, heart hammering in time with his.
“You’re sure about this?” Soahm said.
“I’m sure,” Sonara said. She nodded, and stared between the tips of Duran’s ears, right into Yima’s judging eyes. Something inside of her seemed to shift. “I am not afraid.”
Duran’s ears flicked backwards, as if he’d heard her words.
Then the gates swung wide, and Sonara’s stomach shot into her throat as Duran leapt into a lope, practically becoming one with the wind.
Hold on, Sonara told herself. Don’t you dare let go.
They soared past Soahm, and Sonara heard his cheers mixing with the others. The prince leapt and clapped as he yelled, throwing all formality to the sky as he screamed, “Ride, Sonara, ride!” His amulet bounced on his chest, thunder cracking as the storm finally released its wrath on the world.
Rain fell in sheets across her eyes, but Sonara no longer cared. For she and Duran were now one with the storm, furious. Untethered, as they left the castle grounds.
Together, they ran…
And they did not look back.
A gift, Soahm had said.
The greatest one he could ever give.
Five Months Later
Sonara found him at the ocean’s edge.
The suns were just setting, a double green flash as they sank out of view beyond the furthest stretch of sea.
Seated on the sand, toes not far from the lapping waves, was Soahm.
A mere speck in the distance, she hadn’t seen him in weeks, not since the battle. Not since he’d returned home, wounded from a skirmish in the neighboring Deadlands, his leg torn open and bloodied as he lay in the back of a soldier’s cart.
“Slow, beast,” Sonara murmured to Duran now, leaning back a bit.
The steed dropped to a calm walk, responding to the motion of her body. She’d trained him to respond only to the pressure of her legs, to the click of her tongue, to the shifting of her weight or a gentle murmur of a practiced command.
The trainers had called her a fool, at the beginning. But now the bastard girl of Soreia had become the beast’s master. And perhaps one of the finest riders the kingdom had to offer.
“Go on,” Sonara murmured as she stopped Duran and slid down from his back. “Eat your fill.”
His nostrils flared as he trotted off towards the dunes, fresh pale seagrass waving atop it. Soahm’s mare was already there, happy as could be. The wind blew, carrying her scent down the hillside, and Sonara swore she could feel a bit of peace wash over her.
Her footsteps were drowned out by the crashing sea as she approached her brother. The prince was busy sketching, the back of his left hand turned dark from smudges of charcoal. She rarely saw him without those telltale smudges. The moon was out in full tonight, a beautiful blue that cast a cool glow across the beach.
“What are you doing all the way out here, Soahm?” Sonara asked.
They were nearly an hour’s ride from the castle, on the fringes of the freelands where herds of wild steeds still roamed. He often came out here, to think. To enjoy the silence, without their mother barking commands, or filling his list with countless princely duties.
Sonara wouldn’t know a life like that. And in that, at least, she was grateful for her separation from the ones she could have called family.
“Sonara.” Soahm sighed her name in greeting.
She could sense the sadness in him, as deep as the ocean floor. He tossed a lilac shell into the sea. “I can’t lead this kingdom the way she wants me to.” He glared at his injured leg, splayed before him in a splint. Beside him, a discarded crutch that had become his constant companion. “I’m broken, Sonara.”
“Broken?” Her dark eyes widened. “You’re injured, Soahm. That’s a far cry from broken. You’ll heal.”
“There’s a chance I won’t.” Soahm looked at her fully, and his blue eyes, so unlike hers, were rimmed with red. “The healers say it’s possible that I’ll never fully recover. The people want a warrior, Sonara. Like our mother. They want to know that their future king will rule with sword and shield, will not balk or falter in the face of his enemies. I cannot give them that.”
“Perhaps you never could,” Sonara said with a shrug.
Those blue eyes widened ever more.
She held up a hand and offered him a gentle smile. “You’re not like that, Soahm. Before the injury, after it… it’s never been you. If they want a king like that, they can move north to the Deadlands, and bow at Jira’s feet. Or worse, to the White Wastes, and praise the ice queen.”
Soahm frowned, his brow furrowing. “You think me weak?”
“The opposite,” Sonara said. “I think you’re strong. But in a different way. Perhaps a better way…” She considered for a moment, as a distant pod of sea wyverns splashed their tails above the waves. “Yima rides with heavy heels. The steeds respond, but they don’t respect her.” Sonara reached out, and scooped up a handful of sand, letting it fall through her fingertips. The grains danced away on the wind. “The people want someone they can respect, and it isn’t always earned with a warrior’s sword. Give them a reason to follow you. Give them a leader they can be proud of. Bend a knee to their level, and show them you understand their struggles, their worries and fears, that you care about filling their bellies and giving their children a safe place to learn and play and sleep.”
“But how can I do that?” Soahm asked. “How can I do that like this? The Great War ended when Jira rose to power, but skirmishes still rise. There is still unrest on the borderlands.”
Sonara grabbed her brother’s hand and squeezed it, forcing him to pay attention. To look at her clearly, with her muddied blue hair, her dark eyes, her differences that marked her as a bastard. The lowest of the low. “See them, Soahm. All of them, not just the wealthy and the nobles. See them all, the way you have always seen me.”
He squeezed her hand back, then let it go. They sat together for a time, watching the stars wink down from the sky. Behind them, Duran had crossed to the hills, his face buried in the seagrass as he filled his ever-hungering belly.
“Let’s walk,” Soahm said. His voice was a bit lighter, the heaviness replaced by what Sonara felt was, perhaps, hope.