I doubled over with laughter, imagining Chirri’s reaction when the baby dragons swarmed her hut, hungry for milk and teething on her furniture.
“Why aren’t you here in my place?” I said, shaking my head. “You should be Chirri’s apprentice. You’re as powerful as her.”
“Because my father isn’t the elder,” Tem said. “And no, I’m not as powerful as Chirri.”
“Near enough,” I said lightly, sensing the mood shift. My apprenticeship to Chirri had always been a sore point between us. The truth was, Tem would have made a far better shaman for our village than me. But Azmiri’s shaman was always a relation of the elder, usually a child or younger sibling—a way of consolidating power, which would surely backfire spectacularly with me. Tem, as gifted as he was, was a herdsman’s son. It was unheard-of for someone like him to assume such an important position in the village.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go find some breakfast.”
We flew down the rubbly slope of the mountain, leaping over boulders and grassy knolls with practiced ease. As we came within view of the village, the cloud lifted, revealing huts of bone-white stone huddled against the mountainside, threaded with steep, narrow lanes. The southern half of the village was newer and more uniform than the rest, the huts less eroded and roofed with pale terra-cotta tiles. They had been constructed two centuries ago, replacing those destroyed by the terrible fires that had swept through Azmiri.
We took a shortcut through the orchard, and I leaped up to snatch an apple from one of the boughs. It wasn’t the season yet, and the flesh was painfully tart, but I didn’t care. I was hungry enough to eat my own boots.
The terrain rose again, and I scrambled up the hill. The earth fell away on one side. Across the valley, the mountains Biru and Karranak shoved their snowy heads into the clouds. A familiar feeling welled up inside me—the feeling that I could leap across the valley and come to rest lightly on one of those other peaks. As if I could dig my toes and fingers into the wind and scale it as I had scaled so many earthbound things.
I was ahead of Tem, and didn’t at first hear him yelling. I turned, laughing breathlessly, running backward now.
“What did you—” I began, then let out a cry. I stumbled over a rock and landed hard on my elbows.
All I could see was color. A cacophony of color, green and red and purple and blue. It filled the sky like a monstrous cloud. But as I opened my mouth to scream, the thing resolved itself into a shape—a balloon.
A hot air balloon, sweeping silently over the mountainside. I could make out several small figures silhouetted on the deck, gazing down at me like haughty ravens. The balloon’s shadow passed over me, and I shivered.
Tem reached my side. “You all right?”
I nodded, and he helped me to my feet. We watched the vessel drift over the village, slowly descending until the deck came to rest on one of the barley terraces. The massive balloon sagged to the ground, obscuring our view of the occupants.
“Spirits!” was all I could say.
Tem made a dismissive noise. “River Shara travels in style. He’s probably full of enough hot air to power that balloon himself.”
I stared at him. “River Shara?”
“Ye—”
“The River Shara? You’re telling me that was the Royal Explorer?”
“I think so. I—”
“The greatest explorer in the history of the Empire?”
“Well, I don’t know if he’s—”
I grabbed his arm, excitement flooding me. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
“I only heard of it yesterday, from one of the traders. You should have known, anyway—why didn’t Lusha tell you?”
“Oh, of course,” I said, with exaggerated understanding. “I forgot that you haven’t met my sister.”
Tem rolled his eyes. “All right. But I’m sure she and Elder have known about this for weeks.”
“Of course they have.” I kicked at the top of a tree poking over the edge of the cliff. Somewhere below, a vulture let out an angry squawk. “They wouldn’t think to tell me. What in the world would the Royal Explorer be doing here?”
Emperor Lozong had many explorers in his employ—men and women, mostly of noble blood, charged with mapping his vast and mountainous empire, spying on the barbarian tribes that threatened his southern and western borders, and charting safe paths for his armies. As his territory expanded, the emperor relied increasingly on explorers to provide him with vital information, not only about the lands he possessed, but also those he wished to conquer. My mother, Insia, had been one of them, though her connection to the nobility was so distant that it would have counted for little at court. River Shara, on the other hand, belonged to one of the oldest noble families, one with close blood ties to the emperor himself. He had earned the official title of Royal Explorer—the most powerful position at court, rivaling even the General of the First Army—after leading a harrowing expedition beyond the Drakkar Mountains in the farthest reaches of the Empire, scaling mountains and glaciers and cheating death countless times. Though many men and women had occupied the position of Royal Explorer, few were spoken of with the same reverence as River Shara.
Tem was shaking his head. “Maybe the emperor sent him to make sure we’re still here, and if not, to update the maps.”
I snorted. It wasn’t an unlikely idea. High in the Arya Mountains at the eastern border of the emperor’s lands, we rarely received visitors from the distant Three Cities. When we did, it was the talk of the village. Even a band of cloth merchants was cause for a banquet.
And this was no mere merchant.
My heart pounded. “I have to meet him. I have to talk to him.”
Tem had been speaking—about what, I didn’t know, for I hadn’t been listening. He fell silent, his expression troubled. “Kamzin—”
“This could be my chance.” I didn’t have to explain what I meant—from the look he wore, he understood well enough. He knew how I jumped at the opportunity to join my father’s men on their hunting trips in Bengarek Forest. How I spent my free days climbing the neighboring mountains. How, when my mother was alive, I had begged her to take me along on her expeditions, and how I still spent many evenings poring over her maps of strange and distant lands, tracing the faded lines of ink with my fingers. I wanted to be an explorer more than anything in the world. I wanted to traverse glaciers and map wilderness and sleep under a roof of stars. I wanted to push against the world and feel it push back.
“So what are you going to do?” Tem said. “Walk up to the Royal Explorer and ask him to please bring you along on his next expedition? Offer to carry his pack or massage his feet?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” I twisted my fingers through my braid. It smelled like Chirri’s incense. “I have to think.”