As she caught her breath, the kehok watched her with unblinking eyes.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” she told the kehok. “I am going to open the cage door. You are going to run forward, thinking this is your chance to escape, I’ll drop the net on you, thereby ruining all your dreams of freedom, and then we’re all going to proceed to the stable.” She didn’t expect him to understand all of that, but it helped focus her thoughts.
“And what do you need me to do?” Raia asked.
“Conquer your fear.” Tamra approached the cage. The kehok was eyeing her as if he were far more interested in mauling her than allowing her to chain him. “And call him to you.”
“Do what?”
Most kehoks would be happy to be presented with a willing target—he’d forget about the danger of the net in his eagerness to reach Raia.
“Call to him,” Tamra repeated.
“I can’t do that and not be afraid!”
Tamra rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say banish your fear. I said conquer it. You are right to fear the kehoks. They will always be stronger, faster, and far more deadly than you, and given the opportunity, they will kill you. Only idiots stop being afraid of what can kill them. Dead idiots. You shouldn’t stop being afraid. But you shouldn’t let your fear control you. Choose to be brave. Stand there. Don’t run. And call to him.”
Without waiting for a response, Tamra turned to the kehok. “Go to Raia. Go to the girl.” She kept repeating the command—silently now, concentrating on it as if it were all she wanted in the world—as she unhooked the lock on the cage. Kicking the door open, she sprang back, ready to dive into the river if need be.
But the kehok didn’t move.
Catlike, he lay down inside his cage.
A minute passed.
Then another.
“Call him,” Tamra told Raia.
“Come to me,” Raia said weakly.
River protect us . . .
“Like you mean it.”
Raia clenched her fists, planted her feet wide, and commanded, “Come!”
Go to her, Tamra pushed.
He shifted his weight onto his hind legs, like a cat in the bushes about to hunt. She tensed, ready to leap toward the pulley. Go, Tamra thought. She ignored the niggling worry: it shouldn’t be this hard to command him. Her order alone should have been enough to compel the beast. She’d controlled plenty of resistant kehoks before and never had trouble. Or at least rarely had trouble.
Something’s wrong, a voice inside Tamra whispered.
Firmly, she pushed the doubt away. It had no place when dealing with kehoks.
“Come! Now!” Raia called.
The black lion launched himself forward with a furious roar. Tamra lunged for the pulley, smacked the release, and braced herself as the iron net plummeted down.
It landed with a smack on the kehok, the surprise of the sudden weight dropping him to the ground and pinning him to the dock. Perfect, Tamra thought. She hurried to him as the kehok pushed up onto his feet.
Grabbing one of the dangling chains, Tamra pulled, and the net tightened. It squeezed over his face and around his legs. The kehok net was a special design: it worked both to muzzle a kehok’s jaws and hamper his movements. It wasn’t heavy enough to stop them, but it was enough to slow them.
“Tell him to follow,” Tamra said to Raia.
“Follow,” Raia said in a quavering voice.
He chewed on the chains, trying to gnaw through the iron, but while he was focusing on freeing himself, he wasn’t resisting their commands. He shuffled after them toward the stables.
It was slow, and Tamra was very aware that the net wasn’t a perfect solution. Many a trainer and rider had died while a kehok was in chains, thinking they were safe. With a monster this strong, if his need to attack them overrode his need to be free of the net, they’d be in danger. And so they proceeded slowly, calmly, and alertly until they reached the stables.
Inside, the other kehoks screamed, sensing their approach.
That caught the attention of the black lion. He quit chewing on the chains. A low growl started in the back of his throat. Oh, sweet Lady. She’d hoped they could get him all the way in before he noticed. It usually worked.
Tamra quickly grabbed a hook from the wall of the stable. As the lion began to retreat, she latched the hook onto a loop of chain. “Grab one!” she called to Raia.
Raia obeyed, taking a second hook and sticking the end into the net.
Both of them leaned back, pulling the kehok toward the stable.
But the kehok was stronger. Still retreating, it dragged them away from the stables, their heels plowing through the dirt. By the River, this isn’t working! Her back and leg muscles were sending lightning bolts of pain through her body as she pulled. Soon, they’d give out.
“A little help here!” Tamra called. It grated on her to call for help when she normally could control any kehok, but the alternative was worse, and she had an untrained rider who could be hurt. She only hoped—
Two trainers came running. Of course they were watching, Tamra thought. I should’ve guessed I’d have an audience for this. But she couldn’t complain, given that they did come to help, even though they’d waited for her to humiliate herself before coming to her aid. Truthfully, though, it shouldn’t have been necessary. She must be too distracted with her own worries about Shalla and the future to focus properly.
She renewed her attention on the kehok.
Grabbing additional hooks, the two other trainers also latched onto the net. The four of them, inch by inch, dragged the kehok toward the stable.
While they pulled, Tamra pressed her thoughts against his. Come. Obey.
She felt his will weaken as they slowly overpowered him.
Keeping the pressure on his mind, they dragged him into an open stall. Tamra clamped the chains to the wall, shackling him. He lay beneath the net, snarling at them, as they slammed the door shut. One of the other trainers locked it.
That should not have been so difficult, Tamra thought again, as the whisper of doubt wormed back into her mind. Focus, Tamra. You’re better than this. She’d once controlled five kehoks at the same time! Just one shouldn’t have even been a challenge. Bending over now, however, she worked to catch her breath. She ached everywhere and knew she’d pushed her body too far. She’d never had so much trouble bringing a kehok into a stable, especially one in chains.
Maybe this was a mistake.
“That is not a racer,” one of the other trainers, Osir, proclaimed. He’d been a trainer for a decade longer than Tamra and thought he was at least two decades wiser. He always spoke as if pearls of wisdom were dripping from his bulbous lips. He’d disapproved of Tamra and her methods from the moment they’d met. Tamra wished she could have picked a day when he wasn’t working to bring in her new prize.
“He will be,” Tamra said.
“No chance. You can tell. He’s got the kind of will you can’t bend. At best, you break him. But right, you don’t like to break your monsters. You’ve got a ‘better way.’” He waved his fingers in the air, as if he thought her “way” was no better than a sleight-of-hand magic trick.
“It works for me,” Tamra said through gritted teeth.
“Until it doesn’t. Mark my words: you don’t have a racer here. You have a killer.”