Nihal of the Land of the Wind

  Ido yanked her away from the men holding her up. Nihal’s legs trembled and she fell to her knees.

  Nihal looked up at him from the ground. “You never had any time. I thought …”

  “I told you to wait,” he growled. “But no, you always have to do things your way.”

  He forced her to her feet and dragged her to a building across the base. Nihal noticed it had few windows and all of them were barred.

  “Please, Ido! I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” she pleaded, but it was too late. Ido signaled for a soldier to lock her in.

  “You’d better think things over,” he said, and left.

  Nihal leaned against the wall, stunned and dejected. Her back was a solid ache. She stretched her arm back to rub her sore muscles but instead found that she was bleeding. Nihal sighed, too tired to recite a healing spell, and lay facedown on the floor. She was asleep in seconds.

  When she woke a few hours later, she felt something cool against her back. She half-opened an eye and saw that Ido was putting ointment on her wounds. She stayed still, not wanting him to see she was awake. Her shame was worse than the pain.

  “Did you have a nice nap?”

  Nihal said nothing.

  Ido rubbed the ointment in harder. Nihal moaned in pain.

  “You scared the entire base and disobeyed my orders,” he said unsympathetically. “I don’t know how else to say it, Nihal—your behavior isn’t brave, it’s idiotic. You will stay here until tomorrow.”

  Ido finished applying the ointment and left, slamming the door behind him.

  Nihal stayed where she was on the ground. She was overwhelmingly angry with herself because she knew she was in the wrong, but she was also angry with Ido, for having pointed it out.

  Ido unlocked her cell the next day. It had been a terrible night.

  In the space between sleep and wakefulness, ghosts had appeared in her cell. She had been unable to look away from the bloody, mutilated figures that called to her. She could not scream, and she could not shut her eyes against them. They tortured her all night, crying for revenge.

  And it was all Ido’s fault.

  He had thrown her in this strange place. He had stood in the way of her plans for revenge with all his speeches about love for life, and fear, and the reasons for fighting.

  She was not like everyone else. She was not a girl, not an ordinary warrior. She was a weapon of death and vengeance.

  Ido snubbed her rancorous gaze. “You deserved it, Nihal, and you know it.”

  They had nothing more to say to each other that day. Nihal took care of Vesa and looked after Ido’s weapons. They did not train, and she was not allowed to see Oarf.

  20

  ANOTHER BLOW

  The mood in the Council room was grim. The sorcerors listened with grave expressions as Dagon spoke.

  “Things aren’t going well at all, Sennar. We’ve lost too much territory these past months. The Land of the Wind is our weakest link. It’s not your fault; you’re doing a remarkable job, but the Tyrant’s forces have control over five lands. They have a nearly limitless supply of resources to produce more arms and weapons, and they outnumber us. We must find a solution.”

  Silence descended over the Council room.

  It was Sennar’s turn to speak. He stood. “Dagon, Councilors. It’s true: the situation is indeed dire. The Tyrant is constantly churning out new warriors. In the Land of the Wind we’ve seen yet another new creature, a type of firebird. They are fierce and carry miniature Fammin on their backs. All we can send against them are men and dwarves. Morale is low. I myself admit to moments of discouragement.” This last statement triggered a few spiteful smiles, but Sennar carried on. Sennar continued, “We are caught in a vicious cycle. We need to send more troops into battle, but the more we send, the more are killed. We are dealing with an exceptionally powerful enemy.” Sennar rubbed his eyes. “Doha is a great strategist. They are attacking us in order to get to the Land of Water. It doesn’t have a standing army, and so has to depend on our garrisons. If we are defeated, Doha wins both territories. We’ve managed to hold them back so far, but we’ve sustained too many casualties. I’ve spoken with Galla and Astrea. The nymphs promise to erect a magic barrier in defense of the border. It’s their best and only weapon, but I don’t know how long it can last.”

  Sate, a dwarf councilor from the Land of the Sun, asked, “So, what do you propose?”

  Sennar paused gravely. He looked at the councilors one by one, then braced himself. “We must go to the Underworld for help.”

  The room burst into uproar at Sennar’s proposal. Sate spoke for them all. “The Underworld? Perhaps Councilor Sennar is unaware that the Underworld turned its back on us during the Two Hundred Years War. Councilor Sennar is very young, after all. This historical detail may have escaped his notice.”

  Sate looked coldly at Sennar. “We have severed all ties with that continent, Councilor. No living being can even locate it.”

  Sennar shook his head. “The Tyrant is a danger to everyone, even the Underworld. We cannot do this alone.”

  A nymph representing the Land of Water took the floor. “They’ve left us to our own devices, Sennar. They won’t change their minds. They have not forgotten that the Overworld tried to invade them. And besides, how would we get there?”

  Sennar pulled a scroll from his rucksack. “I found this in the library of the royal palace. It’s a map that gives a rough indication as to the location of the lost continent.”

  The map passed from hand to hand. It was old, worn, and imprecise.

  “If he thinks this is going to help him find the Underworld …” someone commented.

  Sennar clenched his fists and raised his voice. “I can’t stand still and watch the destruction of our world! That’s the whole reason I became a member of the Council! The Tyrant is about to destroy us and there is no way we can save ourselves on our own. I know there are issues of power at work here. Generals don’t want interference from other armies, rulers don’t want it from other lands, and many members of the Council don’t want to lose face before our constituency.”

  “How dare you make such appalling insinuations,” came an indignant voice, but Dagon silenced it with a gesture.

  Sennar got a grip on himself and resumed. “We can’t afford to worry about those issues. We can’t afford power plays any longer. I know this is a desperate move, but we must be able to say that we tried everything. If this is the only way we can give the people of the Overworld any hope for survival, then I’m ready to try. The rest of you must make your decisions.”

  Sennar took his seat, heart racing. A long silence fell over the room.

  Finally, the councilor from the Land of the Sea took the floor. “And who would lead this effort?”

  “Representatives of the citizenry and military officials: a councilor and a general, for example. That would be ideal,” Sennar answered.

  The silence in the room deepened.

  Dagon retook the floor. “Councilors, it is my opinion that Sennar is right. The war has been dragging on for years. It’s a miracle that there are any free lands left. We can’t wait any longer. Let’s put the proposal to a vote.”

  Sate rose to his feet. “Yes, let’s vote. But on one condition: that Sennar be the one to go to the Underworld, seeing that he’s so sure of what he’s saying.”

  “If you approve my proposal, I’ll go,” Sennar answered.

  “I haven’t finished, Councilor,” Sate went on. “We need our generals more than ever right now. I suggest Sennar be responsible for gathering their opinions and presenting them on his own to the inhabitants of the Underworld. If it is even to be found, of course.”

  Then the Council of Sorcerers voted.

  Sennar would go find the Underworld. Alone.

  I’m a coward, Sennar told himself over and over again as he crossed the Land of the Sun. He carried a map with his route traced across the page. He would travel to the Land of the Sea, then cros
s the ocean in search of a continent that, as far he knew, might not even exist anymore. He was scared. There had been no news of the Underworld for a hundred and fifty years.

  His only consolation was that he was nearing Nihal’s base.

  They had exchanged letters every now and then since she left the Academy to go to her new tutor, but they had not seen each other in months. Now he was going to say what was probably his final farewell. Nihal would hate him for it.

  But even though he was afraid, even though he was leaving the person he cared about most in the whole world, even though the tattered map might to lead nowhere, Sennar knew he had to try.

  When he arrived at the fort, he asked for directions to the arena. He was sure he would find his friend there, but the big round area was full of soldiers. There was no trace of Nihal.

  “Where can I find Nihal?” he asked a squire.

  “That madwoman? She must be with her dragon. A real pair of crazies, those two.”

  Sennar reached the stables and walked down the long corridor, searching as he went. Then he saw her.

  Nihal was crouched beside Oarf, feeding him.

  Sennar watched her in silence as butterflies fluttered in his stomach. She had grown even more beautiful during the past months. He drew near. “Nihal?”

  She swept her hair off her face and looked up at him. “Hi, Sennar. What brings you this way?” She did not stand to greet him.

  Disappointed, Sennar muttered, “Some welcome.” He had hoped she would throw her arms around him, tell him she was glad to see him, but Nihal was no longer accustomed to showing her feelings. She continued feeding her dragon, who watched Sennar suspiciously.

  They took a walk around the base. Nihal told Sennar about the progress she had made with Oarf and about how she had managed to ride him, ommiting Ido’s reaction. She was still angry at Ido. They had not spoken for days, and their training sessions were still suspended.

  Sennar listened, but he was uncharacteristically withdrawn. They kept walking, but Nihal’s attempts at conversation fell on barren ground.

  “Come on, Sennar. What’s wrong?” she finally asked him.

  “Are you glad I came?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m glad.”

  “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other and … I don’t know, Nihal. It feels like you don’t need me anymore.”

  His tone was bitter. Nihal stopped. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean that you don’t need anyone anymore. You’ve found a way to live without depending on others. I don’t know if I like this new attitude. Actually, no—I don’t like it at all.”

  Nihal gave him a cool look. “My life is my own business, if you don’t mind.”

  “No, your life is not just your business. It’s my business, too, and Soana’s. It’s the business of everyone who cares about you.” He looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I don’t know you anymore, Nihal.”

  He might as well have slapped her face. Her temper flared. “What’s with you? What the hell are you talking about? What do all you people have against me? ‘Don’t hate.’ ‘Revenge is meaningless.’ ‘I don’t know you anymore.’ Is that all anyone can say to me? Are you in my head? Do you know my thoughts and feelings? Why don’t you shut up and stop talking about things you know nothing about!”

  A long silence descended upon them. Sennar looked down. “I’ve got to leave. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  Nihal was shocked. “Where are you going this time?” she asked in a whisper.

  “To the Underworld to ask for reinforcements.”

  It took Nihal a moment to realize what he was saying. “You mean the lost continent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why you?”

  “It was my idea.”

  Nihal kicked a rock. “I see,” she said, “Fine. Do what you want.” Then she turned and strode off toward the stables.

  It felt like she had lived through this same scene a thousand times. Maybe it was her destiny to see all the people she loved leave her behind.

  Sennar caught up with her, grabbed her by the arm, and forced her to turn around. He was yelling. “Why don’t you say what you think for once? Why don’t you yell or get mad? Do something, dammit! Tell me you don’t want me to go! Show me you’re still a person and not just a sword.”

  Nihal freed herself from his grasp. Blood was pounding in her temples. She reacted to his hostility as though she were in a battle. Her hand went to her hilt and she unsheathed her sword.

  Time stopped for a moment then. Sennar’s blood seemed to halt before it fell to the ground. Nihal dropped her sword, frozen. She had hurt Sennar—Sennar who had helped her, protected her, healed her. Sennar, who was the last person she had left, her only friend. “Sennar, I …”

  Sennar smiled bitterly. “Fine. I’ll take this as a souvenir.” His ran his fingers over the cut on his face. “Come back to life, Nihal. Do it for you, or for your beloved Fen, who’s not even here anymore.”

  He left without looking back. Nihal sobbed for the first time since Livon’s death.

  Nihal didn’t know how long she stood there frozen on the gravel path watching Sennar’s blood run down the blade of her sword. She didn’t have the strength to move.

  Ido shook her from her torpor. “Would you mind telling me where you’ve been? Come on. It’s getting dark.”

  Nihal followed him, ate her supper, and went to bed.

  She spent a long time studying the ceiling. She couldn’t fall asleep.

  Then she heard a strange silence and went to the window. It was snowing.

  Another two weeks went by before she and Ido began training again. At first, it was fine with Nihal. Since Sennar’s departure, she hadn’t wanted to do anything. She spent her time with Oarf, just watching him.

  At the end of the second week, she felt she had atoned for her crime adequately. It was time for Ido to let her get back to work. She needed to erase the vision of Sennar with the slash on his cheek as he turned his back on her and left. She needed to fight. Her mind made up, she approached her tutor. He was polishing his armor.

  “Shouldn’t I be doing that?” she asked.

  Ido did not answer.

  Unperturbed, Nihal said, “I wanted to ask your forgiveness, Ido. I admit I behaved foolishly. I promise that from now on I’ll obey you. Just please let me start training again.”

  Ido calmly went on making the outer shell of his armor shine.

  “Ido?”

  “What, Nihal?”

  “Please. Give me another chance!”

  Ido would not look at her. “No, Nihal.”

  “Why not?”

  “You think it’s enough to come along with this innocent act?”

  “It’s no act, Ido. I want to become a knight, and I swear, you’re the only one I trust. I’ll do whatever you say. I just got sick of waiting. I was really stupid, I know, but …”

  Ido was working on his shin armor. “I’m leaving for a battle tomorrow. We can talk about it when I get back.”

  “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

  Ido finally raised his eyes to look at Nihal. “I’m going with some other soldiers to fight.”

  Nihal could not believe her ears. “And you’re going to leave me here?”

  “I don’t go into battle with warriors I can’t trust. I was wrong about you. You’re still a spoiled little girl who can’t control herself.”

  Nihal inhaled deeply and abandoned all restraint. “You can’t do this to me!” she screamed. “I have to fight! You know how important it is to me!”

  “That’s precisely why I think that you need to take a break for a while. There’s more to life than war. There’s a place for you in this world, a place where you can feel at home. You must see this for yourself before you fight again.”

  But Nihal did not understand. “You’re not fair! You’re not fair!” she yelled, as angry tears burned down her face.

&
nbsp; Ido was not moved by her cries. Seeing this, Nihal ran to her room and slammed the door.

  Nihal packed in secret. She shined her sword and set her battle garb out on her bed. Her ears were perked to hear Ido leave.

  She no longer cared what her tutor would say, nor was she interested in knowing who they would be fighting against and how. She felt she had crossed a line; she had to fight immediately.

  It was still dark when she heard him leave the hut. Large flakes of snow were falling as the troops headed out. Nihal wrapped herself in her cloak and climbed out the window.

  She climbed over the fence and walked around the fort so no one would see her. She wore armor so no one would recognize her. She was confident she could handle the weight, even though it would be difficult to move on the battlefield. In her life as a warrior, she had had to overcome far greater difficulties.

  She waited for the army at the edge of the woods. Because her cloak stood out too much against the white snow, she walked through the denser part of the forest, trusting her ears to track the army’s movements. She waited a long time, but her patience was rewarded; soldiers began marching past.

  It was a sizeable deployment; the column was long.

  Nihal stayed even with the end of the column as she marched through the trees. The icy snow made her footsteps sound louder, but they were nonetheless undetectable beneath the thunderous clatter of marching soldiers.

  She kept sneaking along beside the column, stealthy as a weasel. She could hear the soldiers’ voices and tried to make out what they were saying in case they mentioned the strategy they would adopt in battle, but the column was too far away. It doesn’t matter. I’ll find out everything when we get there.

  They marched for a long time. Nihal was not accustomed to the heavy armor. She had stolen it from the armory that morning after the base had emptied. She had guessed which suit would fit her. It was exceedingly uncomfortable. It sat tight over her chest, hung off her hips, and rubbed against her shoulders.

  The sky slowly whitened with the approaching dawn. The snow was still falling. Nihal still had not gotten used to it; it almost never snowed in the Land of the Wind. She remembered the amazement and joy she had felt the first time she saw snow. Livon had brought her to Salazar’s roof to watch the snowflakes as they whirled through the cold air like flower petals. He had laughed when Nihal opened her mouth and tried to catch them on her tongue.