Nakoda’s energy was infectious.
I could feel the little Rider trembling with anticipation as we followed Zahir down the center of the valley, to the very last unit on the left-hoof side. We entered and it became immediately apparent that this particular building was being used as some kind of infirmary. Injured or sick elven men lay on mounds made of leaves or very, very worn blankets. There were near a dozen of them, with the worst-looking warrior curled on his side, hugging his stomach. I couldn’t tell if he was sick or fighting off some kind of jungle poison, but I didn’t care. I trotted over to him and gently pressed a hoof to his calf. I channeled magic into him. He shuddered and released a sigh of relief before falling into a painless sleep.
“Good job, Don,” Nakoda said, patting my neck.
“Yes, but don’t overdo it,” Lilian warned as she followed Zahir to the back of the building. “We might need all the power you can spare to heal the Rider.”
She had a point, so I snorted once in response.
Tyr was leaning against the building’s back wall. He and his father exchanged nods before the younger elf turned and slid his fingers into the cracks in the wall. Half of the wall slid forward and then to the side, revealing that there was more to the building beyond the wall. In tandem, a few of the “sick elves” popped to their feet and forced the front doors shut. Red-faced, Tyr managed to create a gap large enough for me to walk through.
“Close it behind us,” Zahir told him.
Tyr nodded, wiping sweat off of his brow. Zahir slipped through the gap without another word. Nakoda, Lilian, and I exchanged looks before following after. This secret room was filled with weapons hanging on the wall, various crates and barrels, and there was a long table decorated with a larger map of Castrovel. Beyond the table several blankets hung from rope attached to opposite walls, creating makeshift curtains.
Zahir stepped aside and gestured to them. “By all means,” he grunted, though his voice was muffled by the metallic groan of Tyr sliding the wall back into place. Glowing flowers decorated the walls and ceiling, granting just enough light for me to not need to use my horn to see.
Nakoda hopped off of me and frowned at the hung blankets.
“You hear that, Don?” he asked.
The only sounds in the room came from our shared breathing. I snorted twice.
“Sounds like…wings,” the Little Rider murmured. He brushed past Lilian, took ahold of the blankets with both hands, and shoved them aside.
“Holy Desna!” he gasped. “Sir Rupold?!”
The Rider of the Wing, Sir Rupold, was a giant of a man. He wasn’t as big as the mutants back on Smuggler’s Shiv, but he came close and looked to be just as heavily muscled. His skin was dark grey, almost blue, and textured like glassy stone. An auburn beard covered the lower half of his face, with his matching hair up in a mess topknot. I’d expected him to wear armor similar to Nakoda or the other Riders I’d seen back in the woods, but no.
Skeleton-like armor had been grafted onto his body, with bony spikes jutting out of his shoulders and along his arms. A dark, jagged butterfly was imprinted upon his chest, resembling but not quite matching the one on Nakoda’s pauldron. His eyelids twitched now and again but he was otherwise dead to the world.
“He had this with him,” Zahir called over. He picked up a weapon from off of the table. It was a sliver bardiche with a banner attached to the hilt. It was decorated with another butterfly, this one an exact match to Nakoda’s.
Said halfling took a knee by Sir Rupold’s head and gently shook the sleeping giant, though careful not to cut his fingers on the spiky armor. “Sir Rupold, wake up! It’s me, Nakoda! Please wake up, please!”
When Rupold refused to stir, Nakoda looked over his shoulder at me.
“Don,” he pleaded, “please help!”
I can try, I thought, willing magic into my horn. It illuminated, making Zahir gasp and take several steps back. I approached Sir Rupold and pressed the tip of my horn against his breastplate. Uh, rise Sir Rupold. Please and thank you.
His eyes snapped open, making it my turn to take a few steps back.
“Yay!” Nakoda exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Sir Rupold!”
Rupold’s eyes landed on him, still tense. They flickered to his pauldron. Recognition was followed by realization and then finally confusion. “…You’re…Duralim’s son.” he murmured in a voice more like soft thunder.
“Yep!”
“…Is that really you?”
“Yep, yep!” Nakoda planted his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest with pride. “If you want proof, for your birthday I tried to milk your ox to make you a shake,” he deflated a little, “and, uh, it didn’t really work out-”
“Where am I?” Rupold interrupted, touching both hands to his head. He flinched away from the skeletal gloves and then looked down at himself. His expression became one of horror as he struggled to take in the armor he was wearing.
“Uh, hold that thought,” Nakoda told him before turning to Lilian and I. “Guys, this is Sir Rupold Gatanyx, veteran Rider of the Wing and one of Dad’s best friends. Um, Lilian, how much do we tell him?”
“If you’re worried about the elves eavesdropping, don’t be,” she told him. “Just keep speaking in common. And if you trust him,” she took a deep breath, “then so do I. Tell him what you feel is necessary, Nakoda.”
Nakoda nodded and turned back to Rupold. “Okay, sir, so according to a not-so-okay person, you and Dad and the other Riders were taken by a moon-beast, and-oh!” He pointed at me. “This is my new brother Donkiote Drake! Don for short. He’s a unicorn donkey. And we got shipwrecked on an island, but then we exploded and now we’re here, and this is Lilian-”
Rupold held up a hand, grimacing in obvious pain.
“I-I can’t remember!”
“Are you hurt? Because Don can lick you or poke you with his horn to heal you with some magic or-”
Lilian hurried over and placed a hand on Nakoda’s shoulder. “Calm down,” she told him firmly. “He just woke up. I know you’re excited, Nakoda, but you need to slow down. Otherwise you’re going to set off a panic attack.”
“The others,” Rupold said through gritted teeth, glancing around. “Where are the other Riders?”
Nakoda hesitated before admitting, “You’re the first Rider we’ve found, sir. Even after looking for about a year. From how Don remembers it, the thing-the moon-beast-opened a magic gate in the air. I think it brought you and hopefully the other Riders here, another planet called Castrovel.” He scratched at his bandana anxiously. “I tried looking for Auntie Oli or any of the other Rider Orders, but it’s like they all disappeared, too. So it was just Don and me for a while.”
“…All I r-remember is,” Rupold winced, “is pain.”
He wasn’t the only one to suddenly make a face. Lilian scowled, mouthing, “Stupid tiger brat.” She inclined her head slightly, as if someone was speaking into her ear, before saying, “Nakoda, Don, we may have a problem. The kid snatched the bloodstones from Paco and showed them to the elves. One elf-Nomi something-seems to have recognized them.”
“Bloodstones?” Nakoda asked.
“Salim’s gems.”
“Oh, right.”
“Yes. With Sapphire’s help Belkross is going to try and do damage control, but we should really regroup.”
“Good idea.” Nakoda turned to Rupold. “Think you can stand and follow us, sir?” he asked, going over to try and help Rupold up. It wasn’t until Zahir came over to help that they got the giant up. Rupold reached out and took the bardiche from him. Zahir tensed, but Rupold simply held it up to his face, staring at the banner.
“…Gatanyx,” he breathed, as if the name was alien to him.
“You can hold onto Don was we walk out,” Nakoda said, hopping up onto my saddle. Rupold looked over at me, as if asking for permission. I nodded my head. He returned the nod and gripped the horn of my saddle with his free hand. Once Lilian informed Zahir that we wanted to regroup with the others, the elf led us back out of the room.
“You got him up,” Tyr laughed, looking sincerely happy. “Good! Took about eight of us to get you in there last time, Mister…?”
“Sir,” Rupold corrected him with a heavy breath. “Sir Rupold.”
He didn’t need a lot of help to walk through building, but he was already breathing hard by the time we made it outside. He blinked up at the sun. There was a good chance he hadn’t experienced a sunny day in a very long time, poor guy.
If they did this to him, imagine what Mom must look like by now, a sad voice whispered in the back of my mind. It forced me to recall my dream of a creature of light being tortured by shadows…
I tried not to let it bring down my spirits. We’d finally gained a win today. Nakoda was ecstatic at having found another Rider. Even though I was still mildly angry at him over the stunt in the cave, the last thing I wanted was to bring down my brother’s mood.
Speaking of moods, the scene outside was definitely tense, but (for once) not overtly hostile. Belkross was speaking through Sapphire with a female elf carrying…some kind of pineapple? A few of the hunters were looking, clearly suspicious, but none of them were moving in to attack. Revalynd had gone off somewhere again, having taken Tyr and Gunnar with him. Wyrlynd was glancing back and forth between Sapphire and the elven woman, looking guilty. He’d likely caught on that he’d messed up by revealing the bloodstones.
Zahir and Tyr trailed behind us as we approached, murmuring to one another in elven. Belkross turned. Lilian nodded and waved to get the elven woman’s attention.
“Mama Nomi, is it?” she said, offering a hand. “Lilian. Pleasure to meet you-Sapphire? Sapphire, what’s wrong?”
Sapphire’s entire body had gone entire still, except for her eyes. They were widening in horror. She looked back, towards the still rising sun. She clenched her fists at her side, ignoring Lilian’s questions.
Finally, after a deep breath, she mouthed, “Chrys, accept the signal,” and her eyes turned solid blue.