Free [Firebringer 02] - Dark Moon by Meredith Ann Pierce Page A

“Tai-shan.” The crowd took up the word, chanting his name as the daïcha led him up a stony path between the tall wooden dwellings. Green-plumed two-foots armed with skewers, not staves, escorted their green-clad leader and her companions along the rising path. The dark unicorn walked alongside. Solid ground felt strange beneath his hooves after so many days at sea. More two-foots—held back by the purple-plumes—crowded the narrow way.
    “Tai-shan! Tai-shan!” roared the crowd.
    The tumult grew deafening. Two-foots leaning from openings high in their timber dwellings’ walls flung brilliant seedpods, withered flowers, and shavings of aromatic spicewood onto hard, flat cobbles of the path. Through the shower of offerings, the dark unicorn gazed in amazement at the vast settlement. Fire burned everywhere, glowing in blackened hollows of skystuff, crackling upon treelimbs set in niches, and dancing in hanging boxes of semitransparent shell.
    The sun sank lower, edging toward dusk. The petal-strewn path, he saw, climbed toward a magnificent dwelling that crested the slope. A barrier of timber surrounded the place. As they neared, green-plumes rushed forward to shove at a pair of heavy wooden panels mounted in the timber wall. These pivoted inward, creating an entryway. Sun slipped below horizon’s edge. The air grew dark and chill. As the daïcha led him through the entryway, the dark unicorn glanced back at her people’s immense settlement spilling the shadowed hillside below, the whole slope ablaze with little flickers of captured fire.
    The commotion of the crowd abruptly muted as the huge wooden panels boomed shut. Tai-shan found himself in an open, cobbled space lit by burning brands. Around him, the daïcha’s train milled expectantly until an ornate panel in the nearest dwelling swung open and a male two-foot strode out, accompanied by more of the purple-plumes. He appeared young and vigorous, darkly bearded and attired in falseskins of deep violet and gold. A circlet of skystuff gleamed among the black curls crowning his head.
    “Emwe! Emwe, im chon,” the daïcha cried gladly.
    She and her fellows dropped to the ground. Startled, the dark unicorn cavaled—then stilled his hooves as he remembered that the two-foots used this crumpled posture to show homage. This purple-clad male—the chon –must be the settlement’s ruler, he concluded in surprise. Who, then, must the daïcha be—his sister? His mate? Facing the two-foot ruler, Tai-shan dipped his long neck in a bow.
    The chon clapped the undersides of his forepaws together, and the crouching two-foots raised their heads. Baring his teeth, he beckoned to the daïcha, who hurried to him. He enfolded her in his forelimbs for along moment. When he released her, she turned, talking to him excitedly and gesturing toward Tai-shan. The others eyes widened as he took note of the dark unicorn for the first time. Tai-shan tossed the forelock out of his eyes, and the other exclaimed in astonishment at the sight of his moon-marked brow.
    “Dai’chon!” he whispered.
    Gently, the daïcha corrected him: “Tai-shan.”
    The chon called out a sharp command. Purple-plumes hurried to snatch firebrands from wall niches and hold them near. Tai-shan stood in a ring of fire. The chon strode forward and circled the dark unicorn, peering at him in obvious fascination. He exchanged animated comments with the daïcha, who stood back, watching anxiously. Disconcerted, Tai-shan pivoted to remain facing his host.
    Emwe. Emwe, im chon. He struggled to repeat the daïcha’s greeting, but as before, the unpronounceable words came out whistIed, garbled: “Am-wa. Umuwa m’shan….”
    The two-foot ignored his words, staring pointedly at the dark unicorn’s cloven hooves. Tai-shan cavaled uneasily. Without warning, the chon stepped forward to lay one forepaw against his chest. The other he ran swiftly along the dark unicorn’s back to the croup. Tai-shan jerked away with a