Mirage Read Free

means to be a real Equian?”
    Aluna saw Dash’s fists tighten. She had to act fast, before blades were drawn. She stepped between Dash and the woman. “We’re here to see High Khan Onggur. If you’re planning to take us to him, then that’s fine. Call us whatever you want on the way.”
    She let her hand drift to Dash’s forearm and squeezed. It was his mechanical arm, cool and unforgiving beneath her fingers, but she sensed him relax anyway.
    The guard nodded to Curly-Beard. “Borte, take them to the High Khan. Do what you need to do.” She called out four other names, and soon guards surrounded them, their swords out. Curly-Beard — Borte — took the lead. His tail swished behind him, but he held his weapon in a firm grip.
    “Do not attempt escape,” he said. “Do not give us a reason to hurt you.” He glared at Calli. “If you try to fly away, we will give the High Khan a cape made from your feathers.”
    Calli crossed her arms and seemed to shrink. She tried to pull her wings tight to her back, but they were still wings — huge and conspicuous and impossible to ignore. Hoku stepped to her side, his eyes angry. He never carried a weapon, but he looked ready to attack Borte with the books in his satchel. Dash, on the other hand, seemed cool as stone, his face blank and without emotion.
    “We won’t cause any trouble,” Aluna said, more to her friends than to Borte. At another time, Hoku, Calli, and Dash would have laughed that she was the one making that promise. Right now, nothing seemed funny.
    “Wise Kampii,” Borte said. He turned and led them into the city.
    Her view of Mirage was blocked by the five massive Equian bodies surrounding them, but she could tell the city bore little resemblance to the Mirage of Dash’s stories. Where were all the people? She’d expected vendors hawking their goods, stores brimming with jewelry and claywork, and musicians competing for tips. But the streets were empty. The only motion was the flutter of red-and-black banners in Mirage’s artificial breeze and an occasional face at a window, always quick to disappear when she noticed.
    “What happened to the city?” Dash asked.
    “No questions,” Borte answered, but Aluna saw the guard frown, saw his left foreleg stumble slightly.
    The distant clanging of metal against metal got louder as they walked. Thick black smoke drifted through the streets like mist off the ocean. It stung Aluna’s eyes and made Calli cough.
    And suddenly the tightly packed buildings gave way to a vast, open area filled with blacksmiths and weapon forgers, with skinners and bow makers and fletchers whittling arrows. Smoke billowed from forges and stained the nearby buildings with soot. Some Equians wore chains around their hooves. Some wore bandages on their backs and faces and legs. Everyone, even young Equians no older than a few years, hauled supplies or hammered metal or molded leather. Guards with drawn swords patrolled the work areas and barked orders.
    Dash’s eyes widened, and his voice came out strangled. “This was once the Market of Ten Thousand Colors.”
    “It’s the Market of Ten Thousand Blades now,” Borte said brusquely. “When we have met our quotas and when the desert is secure, the old market will be back. It is for the good of the herd. It is for the good of all Equians.” He spoke the last part as if he’d said it a million times before.
    Dash pointed to a dusty stone structure sitting in the middle of the market. “The fountain. It has run dry.”
    “It is the underground river that ran dry,” Borte said. “Almost two years ago. Water is now strictly rationed for all citizens.”
    “Does the High Khan know that some of his people are in chains?” Aluna asked.
    “Only those who will not willingly serve the herd are punished. And yes, he knows. Everything done in Mirage is by order of the High Khan,” Borte said. Then he added quietly, “Although he is not without his advisers.”
    “Who?” Dash