by Amy Green
Rae frowned. “I’ll take the first watch.”
Silas, clearly having learned that it was impossible to argue with the strong-willed girl, just sighed and rolled over. “Wake me in a few hours to replace you.”
Jesse pulled his blanket over himself but kept his eyes open. He had never had such an eventful day in all his life, and he was not ready to sleep yet. I might not be able to sleep at all on this hard ground.
He stared up at the stars, beyond the towering peaks of the mountains, and remembered the stories his father had told him about them when he was young. He could see the stars that formed Lorar, the warrior who killed the two-headed snake whose name Jesse could not remember. Marias, the first of the kings, who named the kingdom Amarias after himself. Nigel, who hunted great beasts with his falcons and hawks. Kiondra the maiden, whose singing made the very mountains melt. Jesse could almost hear her voice.
Wait, he thought, cocking his head. I believe I can.
But it was not a mythical heroine who sang. It was Rae. Jesse propped his head up on his elbow and squinted into the darkness. Although she stood rigidly near the edge of a cliff, hand on her sword, her soft voice floated freely across the gorge, like the most graceful of the phoenixes. The song had no words, just rich, lonely sounds that echoed quietly in the dark.
For a brief moment, Jesse considered standing and apologizing for his foolish words earlier. Then he lay back down. She wouldn’t want my apology. She doesn’t want me here at all.
That night, he dreamed of a huge red dragon, pulling Rae and Silas down into a swirling pit of sand. There was nothing he could do to save them. All he could do was beat the dragon with his staff, until he was sucked into the sand too, forever lost to the mysterious Abaktan Desert.
Chapter 9
Death. That was what Jesse thought of the moment he caught his first glimpse of the Abaktan Desert at the end of the second day of travel. It stretched out in front of him like a great ocean, flat and barren of life. Nothing but white sand, the color of bleached bones, for countless miles, broken only by a stray cactus or a passing vulture.
“We’re going across that?” Jesse said doubtfully. “Is it safe?”
Rae snorted at him in contempt. Lightly, she jumped off the brown grass where they stood onto the edge of the sand. Without looking back, she strode into the desert, her boots sinking only slightly into the ground.
Silas shifted the burden on his back. “Does that answer your question?”
“I meant for anyone human,” Jesse muttered. Hesitantly, he took his first step on the white sand. It did not suck him under, and no fierce creatures clawed their way out.
His staff was harder to use as a crutch in the sand, because it sank farther down than it had on level ground. Still, Silas stayed by Jesse’s side, even at the slower pace. He must feel sorry for me. Or maybe he thinks I’ll get lost if he doesn’t stay with me.
Then Jesse noticed Silas’ awkward steps and nearly laughed. He really can’t move any faster. Of course, it made sense. Silas was much taller than either Jesse or Rae, and had volunteered to carry most of the equipment, including the heavy canvas tents. The imbalance in weight made him sink farther in the sand.
The sun, even as it began to dip in the sky, burned down on them harshly. Ever since they had left the mountain gorge that morning, the temperature had steadily increased. Noon had been almost unbearable.
“I studied the map this morning,” Silas said. “Leden is close by.”
Jesse nodded. Leden, an oasis town at the edge of the desert, would be a good place to spend the night. Perhaps we will even get to sleep in a real bed. He knew the king had given the Youth Guard enough gold and silver coins to supply them with whatever they might need.
“If we keep a steady pace,” Silas continued, “we should reach it by nightfall.”
Rae turned back. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, with you two lagging behind. Even if we walk into the night, we’ll be lucky to make it halfway there.”
They tried to move faster, but Rae still stayed ahead of them, walking as lightly as if she was going for an afternoon stroll.
“You should know, Jesse,” Silas said as they stumbled on, “this will not be a short journey.”
Jesse’s heart sank. He had hoped they would be able to stay at Leden. It was the only desert town on the map. “Then where is our destination?”
“Da’armos.”
Da’armos? “But…that’s halfway through the Abaktan Desert,” Jesse said, puzzled. “It’s not even part of Amarias.”
“But King Selen conquered it in the War of Palms five years ago,” Silas reminded him. “At first, the Sheik….” He noticed Jesse’s puzzled expression. “That’s what they call their king. For a while, he sent the required tribute by caravan into District Four. But this year the payments stopped.”
Jesse just stared at him. “And we’re supposed to storm into enemy territory and demand this year’s tribute?”
Silas nodded. “Not only that, but, as payment for the Sheik’s tardiness, we are to bring back the greatest treasure of Da’armos: the Scorpion’s Jewel.”
Rae doubled back to join them. “They say it’s set in pure gold,” she said, clearly having heard all of their conversation. “No one knows what kind of jewel it is, because no Amarian has ever been permitted to see it.”
“And the captain of the Youth Guard thinks we’ll be able to steal it?” Jesse asked in disbelief.
“Not steal it,” Rae corrected. “Demand it as tribute. We represent the king and the entire force of King Selen’s army.”
“Who are all busy fighting on the Northern Waste,” Jesse pointed out.
“Youth Guard missions are supposed to be a challenge,” Silas said, shrugging.
Jesse stared at him. “Challenging is getting across this desert alive in the first place. This is more than challenging. Think about what will happen when three dirty, scrawny—”
“Excuse me,” Rae interrupted, sounding indignant. “I, for one, intend to be presentable. And I would hardly consider Silas scrawny.”
“Fine,” Jesse said. “One dirty, scrawny boy, and two clean, only slightly more impressive Youth Guard members, stumble into a foreign land, knowing none of the language. They are from the nation that just conquered Da’armos and killed hundreds of the Da’armon people. Then they storm into the throne room and demand that the Sheik give them tribute for their king and also, the greatest treasure of the kingdom.”
He paused for breath. “Do you want to know what happens to those three?”
“No,” Rae said flatly.
“Yes,” Silas said at the same time. She gave him a look, and he shrugged. “It was just getting interesting.”
“They get thrown into prison for the rest of their miserable lives,” Jesse said triumphantly. “Or, much more likely, their heads are cut off and displayed at the city gates. That’s not challenging. That’s impossible.”
“Fine,” Rae shot back. “Then turn back.” She pointed to the south, where Jesse could still see the peaks of the Suspicion Mountains. “You know the way.”
For a moment, Jesse felt like accepting her challenge, turning away and going back to the relative safety of the mountains. Then he remembered Parvel. I made a promise.
“I only wanted to point out that our mission won’t be as easy as you both seem to think,” Jesse said, continuing on. “It almost seems like they want us to die.”
“You may remember that not many Youth Guard members survive,” Silas said pointedly. “This is why.” Then he sighed. “Don’t worry, Jesse. It may take a week to reach Da’armos on foot. We will have time to consider our strategy.”
“Excellent,” Jesse said cheerfully, “we’ll have time to plan our destruction. Or, I suppose, if Rae has her way, we won’t do any planning at all, but just stumble blindly into our own deaths.”
Rae glared at him for that, but Silas was not listening. His eyes were focused on a point in the distance. “What is that?” he asked sharply, pointing to the east.
From a distance, it looked like a great swarm of gnats, so vast that it blocked out the sun. But no gnats create that kind of wind. Jesse thought back to what he had heard about the Abaktan Desert, and his heart beat faster as he realized what they were seeing. Sandstorm.
For a moment, all three stood motionless, staring at the wall of sand that was whipping toward them.
Silas was the first to jerk his eyes away. “To the rocks!” he called, pointing to a pile of pale stones a distance away. “They will shield us!”
If we can get there before the sandstorm does. Jesse tried to run, beating the ground frantically with his staff, but Silas and Rae were soon ahead of him.
He glanced over his shoulder only once. What he saw terrified him so much that he determined never to look again. The whirlwind literally picked up the hills and dunes and spun their contents in a deadly blur. The scrawny cacti in the distance were engulfed in seconds.
And we’ll be next.
For the first time in his life, Jesse prayed, almost without thinking. God, if you’re out there, help us!
A glance in front of him told Jesse that the rocks were still far away—too far, he knew. But what else can we do? he thought in desperation. We can’t just lie down and die.
That’s it!
“Silas!” Jesse shouted, using all the energy he had left to be heard over the wind. It was growing louder as the sandstorm came closer.
Silas, still running, turned back. He must have seen how quickly the storm was coming, because his eyes widened. “The tents!” Jesse shouted, pointing at the pack Silas carried. Jesse hoped he understood, because he had no time to explain.
For a moment, Silas hesitated. Then he dropped to the ground and began digging through the pack, looking for the tent.
Rae, not realizing what was happening, was still running. Even she won’t reach the rocks in time.
Jesse took a deep breath to call for Rae. Instantly, he coughed violently, as the first of the flying sand particles invaded his lungs. He pulled a blanket from his pack and wrapped it around the bottom part of his face.
“Rae!” he shouted, running after her as fast as he could, ignoring the pain in his crippled leg.
She did not even turn.
“Rae!” Jesse shouted again. The sandstorm was upon them now, and Jesse had to squint to keep his eyes from the blowing sand. “Rae!”
Then he saw her. She had crumpled to the ground, shielding her face with her arms. He lunged forward the last few steps and tried to speak to her. The wind picked up his words and drove them deeper into the desert.
“Come on!” Jesse shouted, grabbing Rae’s arm. She cried out, then immediately spat, trying to get rid of the sand that had entered her mouth.
This time, at least, Rae was not strong enough to help herself. And that meant Jesse had to do something to save her—to save both of them.
Jesse didn’t waste any time. He pulled her to her feet and yanked her forward. The blowing sand made it impossible to see anything. He had no idea where he was going. There was nothing but wind and sand and heat. And death. Just like I knew there would be.
Then, faintly, Jesse heard Silas’ voice shouting at the top of his lungs. No words, just a constant cry. He dragged Rae in the direction of that cry, stumbling against the wind. Once the cry grew louder, he eased his eyes open a crack.
Silas was on his knees in the sand, his eyes closed and hands tightly gripping the tent. The large slab of canvas flapped crazily in the wind. There is nothing to anchor it, Jesse realized, his mind struggling to come up with a plan.
“Get underneath,” he ordered Rae, his voice muffled through the blanket. “Everyone grab a corner.”
Whether or not they heard him, Silas and Rae seemed to understand what to do. They crouched together, wrapping themselves in the tent. Jesse was nearly twisted backwards, trying to hold down one side of the canvas with his knees and grasping a corner with each hand.
Although they were protected from the sting of the blowing sand, the wind still beat against the canvas. Don’t move, Jesse commanded himself. If you topple over, the tent will too.
It was dark in the tent. Once, Jesse felt himself falling forward. He bumped into Silas, but Silas did not so much as flinch. He is saving us, Jesse realized. Although he and Rae were swayed about with the wind, Silas was like a pillar under the Dell River bridge: stable and unmoving.
Unable to blow them away, the sandstorm settled instead for burying them alive. Jesse felt the pressure as sand began to build up around them. “Keep as much air as possible,” he ordered, trying to expand the tent against the push of the sand.
Playing with death. Just like Parvel said. Jesse pushed the thought away and kept holding up the tent, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Jesse had no idea how long the sandstorm went on. Each beat of his heart seemed to take hours, but logic told him they had been under the canvas for a much shorter time. Once they were completely covered in sand—their bodies holding up only small pockets of air—he could no longer hear the howling wind.
It may be too soon to try to dig out. That would be the worst—to abandon their safe place and find that the storm still continued above. But before long, we will not be able to breathe.
Even now, Jesse could hear the sharp, uneven breathing of his two companions. They would not be able to last long.
When the breathing quieted Jesse knew they must move. He could feel his heart rate begin to slow. “We have to stand together,” he said, his words sounding tired, even to his own ears, “and push up.”
“Now,” Silas ordered. Slowly, they stood from their uncomfortable crouch, pushing the canvas up with them.
It did not break through.
Jesse felt panic shoot through him. We could be underneath a mountain of sand. We’ll never reach the surface!
The sand around them was quickly sliding into the space they had opened by standing, burying their precious remaining air, and Jesse took one last gasping breath.
Silas pushed upward against the sand, digging in the direction they believed was up. Jesse joined him, closing his eyes as sand began to press against them. Blindly, he clawed at the sand. Once, Jesse felt a stab of pain as a hand slashed at his arm by mistake.
And then Jesse’s hand felt something other than the grit of sand. Air.
His head came next, and he sputtered and gasped like a drowning man pulled out of a river. Slowly, he wriggled his way out of the dune and swiped the sand away from his face.
Nearby, Rae was helping Silas to his feet. She tried to save Silas first, he thought bitterly, coughing the sand from his lungs. Then he shook his head. She had no way of knowing who she was pulling from the sand.
With a shake of his head, Jesse tried to get the sand out of his hair. It was useless, he knew. Sand was everywhere: in his ears, his clothes, his supplies….
The supplies! Just to make sure, Jesse reached to his back. Sure enough, no pack was strapped there. “Silas!” he said, crawling over to him. “The supplies! I….”
Rae shook her head. “Mine too,” she said. “We’ll dig them out in the morning.”
“But…what if there’s another storm?”
“I have my pack,” Silas said, setting it down. His voice was raw, either from the sand or from shouting. “We will have enough for tonight. And we have the canvas.”
“Besides,” Rae said quietly, “I don’t think we could last through another storm.” Jesse had never before seen her so subdued. Perhaps the sand rubbed away her layer of bluster.
Jesse took a quick look around. Even in the dark, he could tell the landscape had been entirely changed. Only the rocks in the distance, barely poking out of the
newly created dune, proved that they were in the same part of the desert. Cacti had popped up where they had not been before; old ones had disappeared.
“We should not have survived that,” Silas stated, without any emotion.
A quick shiver went down Jesse’s spine. He knew Silas was right. He had never heard of anyone living through a sandstorm. Perhaps God was listening after all.
No, he decided, shaking his head. My quick thinking saved us, and nothing more.
Silas passed around his skin of water, and they each washed their mouths out, then took a long drink. Too exhausted to say more, they curled up in the sand. We will not sleep in Leden tonight.
Jesse shivered and pulled his blanket over him. With the sun gone, the night was suddenly cold. As he closed his eyes, Jesse felt the irritating, ever-present scrape of sand against his skin and found it hard to sleep.
Worse, everything was silent. Deathly silent.
Chapter 10
Noon in the desert. The sun blazed mercilessly on the three travelers, mocking their slow progress. Jesse felt ready to fall to the ground and die. At least then there would be some relief from the heat, the pain of his crippled leg and sore body, and the endless monotony of the white sand in front of him.
They had started out well. After digging out what remained of their supplies, they had journeyed in the direction that Silas assured them was east, toward Leden. No one could find Jesse’s water skin, and they decided to leave it behind rather than spend more time searching.
It was a great loss, they soon learned. Between the hard travel and the constant release of fluids through sweating, they needed much more water than they had planned. Soon, Silas’ water skin was empty, and Rae’s only half full. It might be enough to last us until nightfall, if we conserve. But what then?
“Rest,” Silas called out. They had all been trying to use as few words as possible. Their mouths were dry, and conversation wasted precious moisture.
Rae looked the worst, although she did not complain. Her lips were cracked, and she moved stiffly, as if putting one foot in front of the other required great effort. Silas had insisted she drape a cloth over her head to protect her fair skin from the burning sun, but her pale cheeks had already turned scarlet red.
