The Riders of Thunder Realm Read online

  ‘I’m happy to follow your lead,’ Drake replied with an amiable smile as he cut slivers off an apple. ‘After all, I can’t say I’m very familiar with the terrain outside of the Northern Tundra.’

  ‘Well, I am, and I think it’s a mistake to go through the Barbed Forest,’ Hero said, reaching into her pack to pull out a map of her own. This one was far less impressive than Zeke’s, printed as it was on a creased sheet of paper that had yellowed with age. But what it lacked in technological flair it made up for with the detailed notes that Hero had scribbled in red ink. She traced a scarlet line across the page with her fingertip as she continued. ‘The safer route is to follow the boundary lines of Thunder Realm, parallel to the Backbone Ranges on the eastern side until we can cross at the Dragon’s Throat in the north. Just as Lord Haven did when he and his brethren went on the Way.’

  ‘You think the Barbed Forest is a mistake but it’s a good idea to take us on a path that’s within spitting distance of Covora, just because the lord of your order went that way twenty-odd years ago?’ Zeke scoffed.

  ‘We have less to fear of Covora than we do of the Grim Rider and his Skeleton Crew,’ replied Hero darkly, and Zeke’s scoffing noise became an outright laugh.

  ‘The Grim Rider? That’s just a campfire tale that travellers tell to scare each other.’

  ‘Keep laughing. The last person who mocked me ended up in the infirmary for a week,’ Hero said, her hand twitching beside her humming knife.

  ‘Probably because you led them straight into a trap, Blade’s Edge,’ Zeke countered with a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes. ‘Look, the sooner we get past the Backbone Ranges and into the Eastern Wilds, the sooner we’ll get to Vaal. What do you say, Josiah?’

  Joss looked from left to right and saw that everyone was staring at him. ‘You’re asking me?’

  ‘You’re the tie-breaker. And besides, you know Thunder Realm. What would you imagine is more dangerous? The Barbed Forest, with all its fanciful legends, or the city of Covora, where good men go to be robbed and murdered?’

  ‘Well … everyone knows how hard it is to pass through the Barbed Forest unscathed,’ Joss said hesitantly as he stared up at the map and all the roads leading in a thousand different directions. Part of the challenge of the Way was working out the best path to take, though he hadn’t expected to be challenged like this so soon. ‘But I can’t say I’d be more comfortable trying to pass by Covora without drawing any unwanted attention.’

  ‘Then the Barbed Forest it is!’ Zeke said triumphantly.

  Hero was silent as she folded up her map and hid it away, but the look she shot Joss spoke volumes.

  They awoke before dawn the next day, packed quickly and were back on the road just as the sun was coming up. As was now becoming custom, Zeke took the lead while Hero clung to the rear. That left Joss riding just ahead of Drake in the middle, their mounts growling only the occasional threat to each other.

  ‘So …’ Joss began, searching for something to talk about with this stranger to whom he’d so suddenly found himself bound. ‘What’s it like in the Northern Tundra? I can’t say I’ve ever been.’

  Drake smiled faintly. ‘Beautiful. But hard, and unforgiving …’ he replied. ‘I sometimes find it hard to believe that I could come from such a place.’

  ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  ‘No reason,’ he said, staring out at the waves of dry grass that surrounded them. ‘What about you? How did a boy from Daheed end up somewhere as far away as Round Shield Ranch?’

  Joss chewed the inside of his cheek. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said after some consideration. ‘And one that even I don’t know all the answers to. I was very young when Daheed fell. I’ve only been able to piece together fragments from the few memories I have, and from a book I stumbled across in the Orphan House. And I hear the odd story every now and then. But as you say, Daheed was a long way away, and nobody in Thunder Realm ever really talks about it.’

  He wondered if that would be enough to satisfy Drake’s curiosity. Glancing over, he saw his fellow prentice scrutinising him with those bright green eyes.

  ‘You know, we did a lot of trading with the Daheedi,’ he said, gently increasing Pietro’s pace so that they were now riding alongside one another. ‘The village where I grew up is right on the coastline, and the sailors would visit every month to barter with us. I have a very clear memory of their catamarans out on the horizon. Their sails were made of brown canvas and they looked like trapdoors into the ocean. When they finally came ashore, I remember one of the captains giving me a mango, free of charge. I’d never tasted anything so sweet! It made him laugh to watch me eat it, I enjoyed it so much.’

  ‘Did he happen to mention his name at all?’ Joss asked. Just as it had been with Lord Malkus, he was absorbing every detail of Drake’s story with strict attention. But Malkus hadn’t mentioned anything about encountering Daheedi sailors. As he waited for Drake’s reply, he tried with great difficulty not to get his hopes up, mingled as they were with distant memories of the sun pouring through the porthole in his father’s cabin, and an island home gleaming on the horizon.

  ‘Not that I can remember, sorry. He wore a red bandana and walked with a limp, if that means anything to you.’

  Joss looked at the ground. ‘Can’t say it does …’

  A wind stirred through the long grass with a ghostly moan. Joss shuddered.

  ‘So what made you want to become a paladero, Josiah?’ Drake asked, his question posed as if the answer should be easy, his smile bright and open.

  Joss looked at the reins in his hands and thought back. He remembered the Orphan House, the netting of his hammock and its itchy blanket, the blank faces of the other children staring at him and the cold concrete courtyard in which he’d spent his time alone between classes.

  And then he thought back further to that island home, with a fig tree by the front door and wind chimes ringing in the window. It was hard to believe that he’d called both places ‘home’, but he had, and the one thing that linked them was a small boat, a warm body that had gradually grown cold beside him, and a man with broad shoulders who’d lifted him into the air to safety. He’d worn leather and armour plating, and he looked strong enough that no shadow of pain or loss had ever touched him.

  ‘Admiration, I suppose,’ Joss said, suddenly conscious of the fact that Drake was still beside him, waiting for his answer. ‘And you can call me “Joss”, by the way. Everyone else does. Well, everyone who doesn’t immediately follow my name with the phrase “I’m so disappointed in you”.’

  Drake laughed. ‘Trust me, I know the feeling,’ he replied, his smile softening.

  They rode on, passing through cornfields and tiny clusters of weathered shacks and empty shopfronts that could only generously be called towns. One village they ambled through was made up entirely of small glass domes that had been erected among desert flowers on a sandy hill, looking out over a shallow river. The villagers were dressed in moccasins and rough-spun tunics but they all looked happy as they went about their day, waving to Joss and the others as they passed.

  ‘It’s enough to make you thank the Sleeping King that you weren’t born in the back of nowhere, huh?’ Zeke snorted from the head of the pack.


  The name of the Sleeping King had barely left Zeke’s lips when they rounded a bend to find a massive statue of the sovereign himself carved into the hillside. To make up for the lack of crystal, the rock had been coated in a special paint that gleamed just as brilliantly.

  ‘Looks to me like this place hasn’t been entirely forsaken …’ Hero observed drily, bowing her head to the idol as Zeke squeezed his accelerator to whiz ahead.

  They stopped long enough only to feed and water their animals. Zeke busied himself by riding around in circles as he waited, espousing the benefits of his cycle’s solar cells and inviting each of them to take a spin. Joss politely declined, while Hero watched from behind her dark goggles and tore apart chunks of preserved meat for her sabretooth. From the expression on her face, Joss could only imagine what she was pretending those chunks of meat to be.

  As they continued on, Joss considered each of his new companions. Zeke was so far down the track that it was hard to keep sight of him. Though his mouth could run away from him and his bravado sometimes felt forced, he couldn’t hide the good heart that somehow shone through the cracks. Joss was less certain about Hero, who had more in common with Zeke than she’d probably care to admit. She too concealed whatever fears or anxieties she might be feeling behind a wall of doubtless confidence, though it came with a sharp tongue that often left Joss smarting.

  Even Drake, with all his warmth, had an air of mystery that led Joss to speculate on what his true story might be. That curiosity extended to what they in turn thought of Joss himself: was he an upstart in their eyes, a snot-nosed brat who had stolen his way into their ranks despite being two years too young? Or did they see him as the same withdrawn outsider whom the Round Shield Ranch prentices avoided? As was now quickly becoming habit, Joss reached out to absentmindedly fidget with the handle of the Champion’s Blade.

  Lost in thought, he failed to notice the cacti growing taller and thicker around them. Before he realised it the small spiky bulbs had become as large as towering trees, leaving the riders with no doubt as to where they were.

  ‘The Barbed Forest,’ Drake uttered in awe as they all slowed to a halt. They were gathered atop a knoll that overlooked acres and acres of giant cacti, the path ahead difficult to see through the branches of needles and thorns.

  ‘Well, we’re not going to get through it by just standing here,’ Zeke said, and gunned his cycle to streak down the slope. He showed no hesitation as he steered towards a break in the forest line and dived straight in. Joss and the others cracked their reins and descended into the forest behind him.

  ‘This way!’ Zeke shouted over his shoulder. His afterburner acted as a guiding light as they spent the next couple of hours plodding through the thicket. Every now and then someone would wince or inhale sharply, having run afoul of a protruding needle. Otherwise they kept quiet, each of them too tense in the hazy light and hostile surrounds to speak. Here, halfway lost in the deadly darkness, Vaal and its promised Questing Eggs couldn’t have felt further away.

  There was no birdsong. There were no bubbling streams or rustling leaves. There was only the sound of cicadas chirruping in the shadows, the wind yawning through the canopy, the thrum of Zeke’s engine. And then, a clicking. Gentle at first. Distant. But then louder, closer, as if it was moving. As if it was coming from above …

  Joss glanced up. He gasped. ‘Look out!’ he shouted, pointing at the monsters that surrounded them.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A STAMPEDE OF SPINY LIMBS

  THE prentices all looked up as one. Giant mantises were rapidly climbing down the branches of the cacti towards them, their lean bodies clad in carapaces that resembled spiked armour, their arms like segmented scythes. They clicked their mandibles hungrily as they stared at Joss and his brethren with bulbous black eyes.

  ‘Move!’ Zeke shouted as he jammed on his accelerator and tore off down the path. Joss, eager to join him in escaping, cracked his reins to urge Azof into a sprint. Behind him, Hero reared atop Callie, the giant cat’s muscles rippling as it slashed at the creatures surrounding it. It was enough to drive the mantises back, to make them reconsider their prey. To make them focus on Drake.

  The largest of the mantises struck so fast it was hard to tell what had even happened. One moment it was swaying as if in a trance, and then it was carving the air with its bladed forearm, slashing Drake across the chest.

  ‘Gyyyaaaahhh!!’ the slender youth screamed as he fell from his saddle, the iron tang of his blood scenting the air and throwing all the mantises into a frenzy. They rushed forward, their limbs crackling like kindling in their rush to get to Drake, their jaws snapping as they hinged open.

  Joss quickly unfurled his whip. The creatures didn’t even flinch as the tip of the lash bit at their faces. It was as if he were trying to stave off a charging thunder lizard with a single feather.

  ‘Leave him alone!’ Joss screamed, whipping them again and again to no effect. A flash of metal streaked through the air, and Joss looked over to see Hero yanking zamaraqs from her bandolier to hurl at the mantises. Each of them struck the creatures with what would have been lethal force, only to bounce harmlessly off their armoured hides.

  For all their combined efforts, the only thing Joss and Hero could do was watch in horror as one of the monsters used its immense claw to pull Drake towards it. Drake cried out in panic, the noise lost over the sound that the creatures were making. Their chattering had reached a ravenous pitch, as if they were excitedly talking among themselves about the meal they were set to enjoy, and what they might then have as a second course.

  But then came another noise. A single note, piercing enough to vibrate in Joss’s metal fillings and ripple down his spine. He gripped his head in agony and covered his ears, watching as the mantises shrieked and convulsed.

  Dropping Drake as if he were poisoned, they skittered about in circles as they tried to work out where the noise was coming from. When they couldn’t find it they retreated in a stampede of spiny limbs, clambering up into the nooks and crannies from which they’d first crawled.

  ‘What – what is that noise?!’ Joss exclaimed as the note grew to a peak and then suddenly stopped, resounding all around them. He looked up to see a slight figure standing less than twenty feet away. Her hair was ivy green, her flesh white as paper birch, her eyes a sparkling amber. She wore a simple garment stitched together from leaves and fronds that whispered as she walked, and she carried a thin blade that was etched with the same runes as a song sword.

  It’s a spriggan! Joss realised with wonder.

  ‘They’re gone now,’ she said, sheathing her blade. ‘But we do not have long before they return. And your friend has even less time than that …’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  A SECRET IN THE DIREST OF TIMES

  THE cactus forest grew increasingly dense as Joss and the others hurriedly pushed through it while their mysterious rescuer led the way. She was holding tightly to Pietro’s reins, guiding the tundra bear onwards as it grunted with concern for its master. Drake was unconscious, sweaty, and slung roughly across his mount’s saddle.

  ‘Hasten, hasten!’ the spriggan said.

  Joss still couldn’t believe that she was real. He’d only ever met the descendants of spriggans, like Sur V
erity, and had been under the impression that those of full fae blood had disappeared long ago. To suddenly run across one in the Barbed Forest at a time of mortal peril felt like a miracle.

  ‘I think it needs to be said that we don’t even know this person’s name, let alone that we can trust her …’ Zeke muttered from beside Joss, his face tight with worry. After the mantises’ attack he had doubled back to find the spriggan helping Drake up into his saddle, preparing to lead them all to what she said would be a safe place.

  ‘I am Bittersweet,’ the emerald-haired woman called out without looking back, her pointed ears pinned back like a cat’s.

  ‘And I’m relentlessly charming, for all that’s worth,’ Zeke replied, unabashed at having been overheard.

  The spriggan did not seem amused as she cast a withering gaze in his direction. ‘No, you are a boy afraid of his own father’s boots,’ she replied, and Zeke’s face darkened. ‘But that doesn’t change that I am Bittersweet, nor that your friend will die without my help.’

  ‘Oh, I like her …’ Hero smirked from her saddle, while Zeke muttered something that Joss couldn’t hear.

  ‘We appreciate whatever help you can offer us,’ Joss said, giving Zeke a small nudge. ‘But where exactly is it that we’re going?’

  ‘You’ll see soon enough,’ Bittersweet replied, and increased her pace.

  Any hint of sunshine was choked by the cacti as they grew thicker and spikier, with thorned vines bursting from their fat round stalks. Their needles scratched against Joss’s coat, grazing him on the cheek and scraping through his hair. Azof proved surefooted, though, keeping them both out of danger as he ducked and weaved his way through the treacherous path, until finally they came to a thicket of cercis trees and yucca palms.