Will rode his gray stallion at the back of the group beside his sister, relishing the whipping wind and the cool rain. The bruised clouds lay low, darkening the day with their cocooning effect as the heavens opened up and the burgeoning storm unleashed upon the rebels, drenching Will down to his knickers.
Will looked ahead at the black horse carrying Sky, gratefully. The weather had clipped the Valkyrie's wings and kept her close, riding with them instead of flying through the tempestuous squall. As thunder rumbled like growling giants and sheet lightning arced above their heads, flashes of energy forking across the expanse of the celestial sphere, they pushed on.
Laina wore a brave face as she bounced awkwardly on her chestnut Naisuladna mare. The large horse made her look tiny. Her hair was wet and plastered to her body, and she was clutching the reigns tightly—her knuckles white with effort—and clasping her legs around the sides of the horse as she jolted up and down. Sit back into the seat, he wanted to say. Put pressure on the stirrups to move naturally with the rhythm of the horse. Post, I think it's called. But the brisk pace and the wind would have stolen away his words.
He could see her struggling. Fighting the animal beneath her. Will winced thinking about how sore her backside was going to be by the time they arrived. Despite Will's lack of riding experience, he had felt immediately confident. He had scratched Gideon's muzzle and the horse had whinnied in reply, as if to say, I'll take care of you. Will had mounted easily, one foot in the stirrup and one swinging over to take his seat, and then he had mimicked the other soldiers. He pushed his heels down and leaned his torso forward, one with the steed beneath him.
Riding under the angry sky on his galloping horse was exhilarating. This whole trip—the entire adventure—felt like a kindling of excitement in his belly. Home, it had said. And he'd felt it. The smell of the land, the energy of the place, coursed through his blood and invigorated him. And then, looking into Sky's eyes, he'd recognized it again. Home, his intuition had told him. Home.
But his sister Laina was a fish out of water. And Will felt guilty because as happy as he was in Htrae, he could tell from his twinsense that she was miserable. Will felt like it was the right thing to do, to dampen his excitement due to her misery, but he didn't want to because he felt so alive and so in love. Meanwhile, Laina was having a rough go of it, first with her lack of an aptitude, then with the dismissive greeting of their sister, Rowan, who Laina had been dreaming about since she was a girl. This world was not taking it easy on her. And Will guessed she was missing their Grandfather and mother, their friends back home, more than she wanted to let on.
Laina was smart and capable; she had a creative attack-plan for every situation. Here, powerless in the face of an impending war, Will could tell she was feeling useless and, worse, helpless. But all that talk about her having no aptitude ... no magic ... he didn't believe it. Not for a second. Laina had always been special. Laina knew things. Things she had no right to know. Perhaps it was just her way of reading people or her uncanny intuition, but nobody else knew Laina the way he knew Laina.
Will had learned it as a kid: when he bet on Laina he always won. It wasn't just that he loved his sister or that he believed in her, both of which were true. Ever since they were born, Laina had been defying expectations, succeeding in unconventional ways.
When the courts had tried to separate the siblings into different foster homes at three, she'd drawn a picture of the two of them holding hands. She'd gotten their social worker to help her write 'My family, my heart' underneath it and then asked her to mail it with a letter to the Prime Minister of Canada, explaining the situation. A few weeks later, they'd been together again.
In high school, when they'd had to write a philosophy essay about the Socratic method, she'd written a play of dialogue with the ancient philosopher Socrates questioning his students about life and philosophy in conversation. It hadn't just gotten her an A-plus, it had garnered the attention of a national essay contest, winning her a huge award.
When they were six-years-old and they had wanted answers about Santa Claus, Laina had rigged their Grandfather's GPS Fish Finder—a machine that indicated the exact size and shape of fish below a boat when it happened to swim underneath—to the floor right above the Christmas tree. When 'Santa' had snuck in at 3 am, he'd been very, very skinny and tall. He hadn't looked a thing like the jolly red-suited Christmas caperer they'd expected. Laina had figured out then and there that Santa was their Grandfather, Olleander, but she had kept the spirit of Christmas alive for Will, telling him that Mrs. Claus must have put Santa on a strict diet. "We'll have to bake extra cookies for him next year," she'd said.
Laina had always created her own way; forged her own creative path. Laina didn't just think outside the box, for Will's sister, the box had never existed. So if Laina had no aptitudes, it was because she didn't need them to find her magic. Ever since they'd been born, side-by-side, she'd been filling Will's world with magic. So Will didn't need proof. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that Laina had more magic in her little finger than he had in his whole body. He was sure of it. Will's faith in Laina was unwavering. It was only a matter of time before she became the witch she was meant to be.
But in the meantime, he'd give her hug as soon as they were back on two feet.
***
As they cantered on, sandy desert turned into a gradient of verdant fields, and then altered into lush green jungle, cradled between two mountains. They were traveling to the interior of what Will believed would be Peru, or maybe Lima, if they had been on Earth. Five hours in, the slate sky gradually darkened, the perpetual drizzle still persisting, keeping them soaking wet. Will could taste the warm humidity as he inhaled, like he was living in a soggy sauna. The air was laden with the smell of unfamiliar fauna and flowers.
Even Will began to flag as he wished for a roof overhead, a pair of dry socks, and something delicious to nibble on. Rowan had been at the vanguard of the party, leading the way—still looking as if the journey she'd taken both ways had been little more than a stroll in the park, while Laina looked like she might fall of the horse at any moment—Joel at the forefront, a few rebel soldiers riding in the middle with Sky and the Winnifreds, who were snuggled up in a horse-drawn cart, and one tough looking son-of-a-gun named Rask taking up the rear behind Will and Laina.
Finally, Rowan had slowed the horse to a walk and then halted at the crest of a hill. The rebels congregated. Will looked down into the valley below and let out his breath in a low, appreciative sigh. In the twilight, a heavy mist lay along the bottom of the basin, cradled by maw-like mountains, tree tops extending from the fog with a walled city seemingly built on clouds—a winding sandy labyrinth of paths, homes, and buildings—at the epicentre. Warm lanterns glowed like beacons beckoning the approaching night. It was what Will thought Machu Pichu might look like if ... if people still inhabited it, if there had also been a majestic domed temple built in the centre: a lodestar.
"The Citadel," Rowan said, by way of explanation. "And the rebel hideaway. Welcome." She looked back at her siblings' faces expectantly before wheeling and leading her horse down steep switchbacks, descending into an ocean of mist below.
***
The wall towered forty feet above their heads, sturdy arched and impressive wooden slab door with intricate arabesque etchings lowering down to the ground like a drawbridge.
Joel sidled up between the twins. "Ready?" He asked, grinning like a fool.
"For what?" Will asked, confused. "I'm excited to see the Citadel, yeah."
Laina just glared at Joel as if, had she discovered magic, she'd have made him disappear by now.
In answer, Joel winked at them and drew ahead, as Rowan dropped to ride beside them and the rest of the soldiers fell back with Sky and the Winnifreds.
Will felt like he wasn't in on some joke.
"What's going on?" Will asked again. Laina looked nervous, too. Rowan just shrugged as the slab lowered, showing the tops of buildings, beautiful inner walls with tiled mosaic work, jewel-toned blown glass windows, and doors of turquoise, indigo, and mustard yellow.
The crank lowered, and lowered, and lowered.
And then Will heard it.
A low buzz from a waiting horde. The heads of throngs of people, crowding the streets in anticipation, finally coming into view.
Will sat, immobilized with shock.
Joel shot ahead into the street. "May I present," he announced, his voice magically magnified as it echoed off the corridors and passageways streaming with people, "The royal Aary family, our promised heroes, together once again! Ready to fight for the Tainted! Ready to take on the Empire! Ready to be the heroes we've waited for ... for centuries!"
A cheer—a roar of approval—bubbled from the adults and children who were waiting to catch a glimpse of the newcomers, spurred on by the daunting pronouncement.
Will was very glad he had an empty stomach, because if he hadn't, he was sure it's contents would now be splattered on the cobblestone ground beneath his horse. He didn't feel ready for any of this.
And then, an eerie whisper in his ear: "Look less like a donkey taking a turd and more like a Princeling. Go for strong, confident, handsome. Like me. SMILE." Will obeyed automatically, sitting up straight in the saddle at Joel's disembodied command. Will looked over to Laina beside him and saw, first wide-eyed shock and then a steely determination that glinted with a well-hidden seething anger. Will wondered what Joel had whispered in her ear. If he knew Laina, someone was going to pay for not preparing them. And Will guessed it would be the cocky Joel, currently sauntering ahead and preening in the adoring attention. Will felt a glimmer of pride as Laina did her very best impression of Kate Middleton.
Will tried to get used to people staring at him and children looking up at him in awe as the procession proceeded towards the central temple. Will felt like hours passed as they made their way up the stretch, horse hooves clopping against stone, a friendly smile unnaturally plastered across his mug.
A small figure stood atop the stairs leading to the triple-domed sanctuary. He was a little person, hair white and expression stern, shrewd, and assessing. There was no mistaking him for anyone other than Olleander's brother—though their builds were in direct contrast, their facial features were remarkably similar. But where Olleander had an innocuous and nurturing presence, Jorah had an imposing one, and wore military attire befitting a commanding officer, tasseled epaulettes on the shoulders and crests sewn on the front.
Rowan dismounted, signaling for her siblings to follow suit, as she handed her reigns to a rebel soldier and lead Will and Laina up the stairs.
"Grand Mage & High Commander Wumble, meet Will and Laina Aary," Rowan said, introducing them. Jorah gave them a terse smile and nod, reaching out to shake their hands formally for their audience.
"Now wave and then follow me inside," the High Commander directed. "We must discuss strategy." He turned on his heels.
Rowan looked at her exhausted and beleaguered companions. "Wait, uncle," she said to his back as she followed his brisk trot, beckoning the others to catch up, "perhaps we can eat, wash, and rest for the night and reconvene in the morning? It's been a long journey for all of us."
His short legs paused midway through his march into the citadel, past the gaping maw of the open door, where he now stood in the shadow of the cavernous entrance way. A long rattling sigh of disappointment punctuated the interior, echoing. "What's twelve more hours when I've waited eighteen years to hear news of my brother?" It came out cross, his back still facing them. "But alright. Tomorrow. We commence at 5 am in my chambers," he continued, dismissing them with a wave of the hand.
Laina cleared her throat as she tiptoed forward before he could walk away. "High Commander Jorah?" she began. He paused again, reluctantly, turning to look at her. He was a busy, important man with the world on his shoulders, a never-ending list of responsibilities lying at is feet. "I ..." she swung her backpack off and rummaged in it, holding a towering stack of envelopes out to him, held together by an overstretched and straining elastic. "These are for you, from our grandfather... err... your brother, Olleander." He looked confused for a moment as he looked at the crisp white manila envelopes, used to rolled up scrolls instead. "Letters," she said, explaining.
He blinked slowly. He reached for the towering stack, gingerly taking it from Laina. For a split second, Will thought he saw emotion swimming in his eyes, and then the formidable man tamped down on it, letting his face fall once again into an unreadable mask.
"Thank you, Laina," he said. "I've been waiting to hear from my brother directly for a very long time indeed." Then he marched off, leaving the siblings alone with Joel and Sky, who were the only ones from the party who had joined them.
"Well now that that's out of the way," Joel crooned, "who wants a big stiff drink?"
"Bed," Laina croaked. Exhaustion keeping her from shooting daggers out of her eyeballs at the audacious Joel.
"Food in bed," Will amended.
"If you're sure," Joel answered, "food in bed sounds like it could lead to an especially fun time, I know. But in the end, it just ends up being really messy," he went on. "Chocolate is particularly unsexy. Take the advice of someone older than you, Will. I mean ..." Will tuned out Joel's bedroom escapades, hoping that he was leading them towards the kitchens, and then to a soft place to rest. Will's whole body ached and he was practically asleep on his feet, but he managed to stuff some sort of chicken-like food in his mouth, drink something rich and creamy, and then change into something dry that was handed to him before he blacked out, leaving this new and overwhelming world behind for the worlds in his dreams.