858 A.G.M.

They'd lost them.

They'd lost them, yet Kaolin Hyrelle couldn't breathe easy. The thick forest canopy pressed in on her, its air dense with moisture. The manticore at her side growled gently. When Kaolin pressed a hand behind Mala's furry ears and scratched, a deep purr resonated from the lioness' chest.

Ten Blood Shadows and they'd outrun them all.

A hint of a smile tugged at Kaolin's mouth. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she adjusted her grip on the machete in her other hand. She hacked at the green foliage. Two days of progress through the jungle and still she hadn't met her next guide. Above her head, colorful birds peered at her with beady eyes and monkeys chattered as if mocking that a Pyro girl dared trespass here.

Sweat soaked her pale green tunic, even though she'd risen with the sun only a half hour ago. "I hate this place," Kaolin muttered, careful not to snag the quiver at her waist on any undergrowth. A swing of her arm lopped off the heads of some prickly plants with purple flowers. The sharp spines had left some ugly, bleeding gashes on her hand yesterday.

"I hate the air here." It always felt as if she were suffocating, drowning from the excess water she breathed into her lungs. One of the plants she struck released a yellow cloud of fumes. Kaolin coughed into her sleeve, stumbling away from it. Tears stung her eyes.

Beside her, Mala extended and flapped her leathery wings to blow the plant's poison in the opposite direction.

Kaolin was starting to think she'd go mad, doomed to wander the jungle until she died of dehydration while choking on moist air. "Will you shut up!" she screamed at the monkeys hanging from the vines trellised among the trees. She took a rock from the ground and chucked it at the beasts.

The monkeys leaped away and Kaolin's arm fell back to her side. Around her, the forest settled into stillness, broken only by a humming that originated from the ground. The heartbeat of Mother Earth, the Terrons called it. When they died and were buried, they hoped to be welcomed into her warm embrace.

Kaolin could think of nothing worse than rotting six feet underground—her body being eaten by worms until it lost resemblance to anything human and living. Better to burn. Better to be eaten by fire and return to dust in a day.

Leaves rustled behind her. Kaolin's head whipped around. Dropping the machete, she pulled the bow slung across her chest over her head and nocked an arrow.

Breathe, she reminded herself when her vision blurred.

She couldn't hear anything over the slow pounding of the earth and the quicker frantic beat of her heart. Still sighting down her arrow, Kaolin slowly stood and walked over to Mala. "I don't think we're alone," she murmured to the manticore.

A flicker of black disrupted the green landscape.

Unless her eyes deceived her, the shadows had returned for blood. Kaolin timed her breaths, the rise and fall of her chest. At the next flash of movement, she released the air in her lungs and fired.

She didn't waste time tracking the arrow to see if it hit. Swinging up onto Mala's back, Kaolin prayed that this plan would work. The empire boasted no better assassins than the Blood Shadows and she'd only received training in the Twilight Enclave as a spy. While that meant she could sneak across borders with more finesse, there would no question of whose blood would water the ground should they catch her.

Mala bounded through the forest, crashing through the foliage with abandon. Kaolin ducked low over the lioness' back as they passed under branches and wove between trees. If they broke through the canopy, Mala could fly, but they'd be a visible target and wouldn't be able to meet their guide.

Kaolin gritted her teeth. Arrows thudded into trees, sending bark flying all around her. I hate getting shot at.

She wanted to turn Mala around so she could fire back at her stalkers without a low branch unseating her. An arrow whizzed by her face, sending a sear of pain across her cheek. Kaolin bit her lip and blinked back tears. Stick to the plan. We have to be clear of the border now.

Hugging her knees against Mala's sides and tightening her core, Kaolin plucked an arrow from her quiver—one with red fletching instead of white. Behind the arrowhead, the shaft had a packet secured around it. Kaolin lit the short fuse with a spark from her fingertip and readied to fire.

Straight into the sky.

The bowstring gave a satisfying twang and the arrow sped toward the heavens before weight and the falling force slowed its course. The missile exploded into light and flower fire with a pop, leaving golden sparks to rain back down to earth.

Kaolin risked a glance behind to discover her enemies closing in. The Blood Shadows must have traded their toka mounts for creatures more suited to the climate and terrain. Giant lizards slithered over the earth—their green faces an ugly mess of overgrown teeth and fin-like protrusions. One scaled a tree for its rider to shoot from a better vantage, all six of its scaled limbs clinging to the rough surface.

But their utter inability to appeal to her artistic senses wasn't the worst of it.

When Kaolin met the stony gaze of the one in the tree, her limbs locked with paralysis. If she weren't already trying so hard to stay on Mala, she'd have keeled over like a woman in a faint. As it was, though she ripped her eyes away, her fingers wouldn't uncurl from where they gripped her bow. She might as well have tried to pry apart the hands of a statue.

Mala keened in fear as one of the creatures snapped at her hind legs.

Some repulsive imitation of laughter gurgled in the monster's throat.

"Don't look at them, Mala!" Kaolin yelled. Her voice seemed to break the spell and she plunged one of her arrows into the creature's skull. Its scream sent prickles of fear traveling up her arms.

The ground seemed to ripple beneath them—waves of green undulating before breaking apart into lashing roots and vines. Kaolin hit the dirt some distance away as nature ensnared the assassins. Several sunk into the ground as if it were water while roots dragged others into holes forming in the trunks of trees.

Kaolin nocked an arrow before realizing all the Blood Shadows had been captured and incapacitated. When she raised a hand to brush the soil from her cheek, it came away sticky with blood.

A woman dropped from the tree above, landing with ease on the forest floor. Her thick black hair hung in dozens of braids down her back and over the silver of her breastplate and shoulder armor. All around them, soldiers clad in green climbed down from the canopy to tend to the trespassers. Their method being to stick a sliver of metal in their necks until their struggles stilled.

Kaolin could hardly take in the presence standing before her, from the curious ring of flowering antlers crowning the woman's head to the mixture of dark and light patches of her skin. Not to mention that silver tachi... she hadn't thought Terrons used swords after the Pyro-make.

Her fingers twitched. If only I had brought my materials.

Under the woman's scrutiny, Kaolin quickly remembered propriety and kneeled. She had no idea who she might be addressing. Governed by their militaries, the terrenes held no concept of royalty. Most pledged their allegiance to Warlords—generals of their armies—but she'd gathered enough rumors of this particular terrene to know Rampara did not follow in the steps of her surrounding neighbors.

"You're lucky we had a wayward scout, Kaolin Hyrelle," the woman said. "The signal may not have reached us if not for him."

She knows who I am. Kaolin relaxed at the woman's foreign yet gentle tone before stiffening as a strong hand helped her to her feet. "I thank you for your aid, Highness. I am most regretful of any extra trouble I have caused you." She kept her eyes lowered in respect.

"Do you hear this girl, Mag?" The Terron woman laughed and tipped Kaolin's chin up with her fingers. "My name is Felianne Nefar, Warlady of Rampara. You may call me Nefar, Feli, or Lady if a title suits you better."

Kaolin's jaw slackened in surprise at the sight of the Warlady's mismatched eyes—one a vibrant green and the other a deep brown.

A soldier at the Warlady's side—Mag, Kaolin thought—grimaced and said, "I'm not surprised the girl is licking your feet, Lady. The Pyros treat their people worse than dogs."

Kaolin flinched as the arrow of truth struck its mark and looked down again in shame. She hadn't noticed at first, but vines grew out of one of Mag's arms where a hand would be. In a way, they looked more resilient based on how the individual stems could wrap around the handle of the hammer Mag wielded.

"At any rate," the Warlady continued, "you are our guest here and are free to speak your mind." She stooped and kissed Kaolin's brow, then traced a finger over the cut on her cheek. The stinging vanished.

"I would love to draw you," Kaolin blurted out. Crimson flush spread up her face at the nerve of the statement.

Felianne threw back her shoulders as if posing for a warrior's statue to be crafted in that instant. "I would be honored, Kaolin. Rampara is always in need of artists. But we'd best be back over the border before our neighbors decide to chase us out."

The Warlady strode off before Kaolin could regain her presence of mind to stumble after her. "Are we not over the border then?"

"No, we are in Dumira and they're not fond of visitors," Felianne answered. Now that the Warlady was in motion, Kaolin could see the confidence in her bearing. Both warrior and healer then.

One of the Terron soldiers snapped to attention and saluted when they drew near. "We have captured all nine of the pursuers as well as their basilisks, Lady!" Sweat shone on his pale skin and he didn't shy away when his companion chopped off one of the lizard's heads with an axe. Purple blood splattered across his pants.

Kaolin's stomach flipped and she turned away from the basilisk head's glassy stare.

"Well done, Jed," Felianne said with a regal nod. "How soon will we be ready?"

"Very soon, Lady. My squad can take a captive each and we'll leave the Dumiri to bury their dead."

"Excuse me..." Kaolin ventured.

Felianne looked at her. "Speak," she ordered gently.

"There were ten Blood Shadows following me not long ago," Kaolin whispered. "Not nine."

Jed and the Warlady shared a glance.

"Where's Rukir?" Felianne asked. The green of her flowering crown darkened to an autumn orange.

"He's around... somewhere." Jed dipped his chin. "Probably avoiding repercussions for crossing the border without permission."

Mag growled. "That rebel."

"Peace," Felianne held a warding hand out at her bodyguard. "Our guest wouldn't have arrived if not for our 'rebel'. And aren't we all rebels of Rampara?" Felianne's lip quirked in amusement. " Find Rukir, Jed. Go with him and hunt down that last assassin. To the ends of the earth if you have to."

Jed stomped his right foot. "The Lady's word is my command." He whistled between his fingers and took off at a run.

"Come." Felianne took Kaolin's hand and guided her to where another Terron tended the gashes in Mala's legs. The manticore hadn't even brandished her stinger at the stranger, instead taking the treatment with uncharacteristic docility.

"I don't believe I will be staying long, Lady," Kaolin said. "Once the last Blood Shadow is tracked down, I'll be heading home."

"Of course," Felianne answered, patting the Terron healer on the shoulder. The flowers in her crown bloomed again, releasing a subtle but sweet fragrance. "But you are welcome to stay as long as you'd like. The assassin won't last long against my diamond soldier. He can catch the scent of blood better than a hound. Besides there's someone I think you should meet."

"Really, Lady. I—"

"I insist." The Warlady's eyes flashed with danger and thorns curled around her antler crown. "After all, it's not every day that a phoenix comes back from the dead."