Free Horizon by Jenn Reese Page A

good.”
    “Last rescue?” Aluna said. “What happened on the last rescue?”
    Melody shook his head slowly from side to side. “Glints with flames, trees on fire. Prisoners too big. Not shaped for treetops.” He motioned to another Silvae. It dropped down to its hands and pranced around on its webbing.
    “A horse,” Dash said. “Your last rescue attempt involved horses?”
    “That’s why they couldn’t take Vachir,” Calli said, laying a soft hand on Aluna’s arm. “It was too dangerous.”
    “No,” Melody said. “Not a horse.”
    Another Silvae joined the first in its pantomime. Aluna couldn’t tell if they were wrestling or just goofing around, but whatever they were doing, it wasn’t helping.
    “Equians!” Dash said. “You tried to rescue the desert horse people!”
    “Yes,” Melody said, grinning. The old man was clearly enjoying this game. “Horse people. Equians. Two people, eight legs.”
    “Two,” Dash said. “Was one of them dark skinned and bald with a brown horse body? The other was the same color as me, short brown hair, with a black flank?”
    “Who are you talking about?” Hoku whispered. “I don’t remember anyone who looked like that from Shining Moon.”
    “Because they were gone before we got there,” Aluna said. Her breathing necklace pulsed faster. “Erke and Gan. Dash’s fathers! They left Shining Moon to look for him when Dash was exiled and didn’t return.”
    She looked at Dash, wanting to see her own hope reflected in his face. But Dash didn’t look at her. He stared straight ahead at Melody, his jaw clenched, and waited for his answer.
    Melody whistled to his people and listened as they answered with trills and hoots of their own. “Harmony says yes,” Melody said eventually. “Horse people were as you say.”
    Dash closed his eyes and exhaled. “And what happened?” he asked. “How did the rescue go badly? Did you drop them? Did you . . . break them?”
    Tides’ teeth.
Aluna wanted to reach over and take his arm, to remind him that she was there if he needed her. But she could tell by the way his whole body had started to quiver that he needed answers, not kindness. If she offered comfort, it might burst the fragile bubble he’d suddenly become.
    “Break?” Melody said. He tilted his head to the side and whistled again. His people chirped back. It only took two flashes for this exchange, but it felt like years. “We could not rescue horse people,” Melody said, “but we did not break them. Glints took them to join glint swarm.”
    “They’re alive,” Aluna said to Dash. “The Upgraders wouldn’t have kept them alive unless Karl Strand wanted them that way. There’s still time. We’ll find them.”
    “I hope you are right,” Dash said, his voice a painful mix of hope and despair. “Erke is strong. He once survived a full month in the desert by himself after a sandstorm. But Gan . . . Gan is not like that. I fear for him.” He looked at Melody. “Do you know where they are? Does
swarm
mean they are with Strand’s army?”
    “Army swarm, yes, but where? Swarm is huge, sprawling, hungry,” Melody said. “Swarm started small, used to nibble at Song’s edge, a caterpillar snacking on a leaf.” He shook his head angrily. “Now swarm has grown vast. Swarm devours. Trees fall, animals flee, birds fly away. Song shrinks, curls up on itself, starts to die.”
    The Silvae keened when Melody stopped speaking, their birdcalls anguished.
    “Join the Equians and Aviars against Karl Strand,” Aluna said. She spoke in a loud voice, trying to sound like the leader she wanted to be, not one who’d recently watched her plans crumble around her. “Help us fight Strand and his glints. Help us save our people, and the Song. We want to stop the war before it even starts, but if it comes to fighting, you would add much strength to our side.”
    “No, no, no. We have Melody and Harmony. Song needs no other voices,” Melody said. “When glints enter