Sower of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy)

by Debra Holland

  Daria leaned against the wall next to him, shading her eyes with one hand, Shir cradled in her other arm. Nika and Teifa waited behind them, and Shad, their secret spy, perched on top of the shrine.

  Once they’d taken their positions, the Goddess had told him, She would release Amir and Moussad. The tone of her communication sounded rather tart, and he wondered what had gone on in her shrine. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall….

  The door slid aside. Amir and Moussad, framed in the exit, blinked in the late afternoon sunlight.

  Khan put the spyglass to his eye, focusing on his brother’s face, as if he’d never seen Amir before. “They’ve lost their sunglasses,” he murmured to Daria. “That’s going to be hard on them. They’re having a difficult time seeing.”

  “Sunglasses?”

  He dropped the scope, letting it dangle from the heavy chain around his neck. Making circles with the thumb and forefinger of each hand, he cupped them around his eyes. “The dark lenses they wore over their eyes when we saw them on the screen in the shrine. Filters out the bright light. Amir wears them all the time, so his eyes are sensitive to strong sunlight.”

  She nodded her understanding. “What about their weapons?”

  He put the telescope back to his eye. “They have them.” He saw them look around and wondered what they’d feel when they realized they were no longer on Earth. Terrified, probably.

  Moussad walked out, followed by Amir. Khan delivered a running commentary to Daria about all their actions, including Moussad’s fight with the wall. Finally, after a time of Moussad sitting on a rock, and Amir standing, obviously thinking, both men began to move, following the trail Khan and Daria had laid out.

  After they’d walked about a hundred yards, Shad took to the air, keeping a distance behind the men, just as Khan had ordered.

  Khan handed Daria the telescope.

  She looped the chain over her head, put the lens to her eye, and tracked Amir and Moussad as they skirted the edge of the city until they were out of sight. She collapsed the scope and turned to him.

  He smiled down at her, trying to lighten the moment. “All proceeding as planned.”

  A frown pulled down the corners of her mouth, and she brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Would that they’ll continue into the jaws of the trap we’ve set.”

  “Come on.” He touched her shoulder. “We need to follow them.”

  They mounted, heading the horses though the ruins to their next watch point.

  Khan glanced up at the sky, following the brown speck that was Shad. The monkey-bat would fly to warn them if Amir and Moussad veered from their arranged path.

  He threaded Nika between several hillocks of rubble. Knowing Daria would stay alert, he turned over in his mind all their preparations, testing to see if he could come up with any new ideas. He couldn’t.

  As he rode, a trickle of worry wove through his thoughts. He couldn’t help but wonder.

  Would everything work as planned?

  ~ ~ ~

  The sun blazed down on Amir’s unprotected head. The heat penetrated through his hair to scorch his scalp and burned the skin on his face until it stretched drum-tight over his cheekbones. He squinted in the bright light, barely making out the endless line of hoof prints in the sand. The dust kicked up by the breeze clogged his nostrils, sometimes making him sneeze, yet it didn’t obscure the tracks. The water he’d imbibed in the undergrown building had long since leeched from his body, and his tongue thickened with thirst.

  In the beginning of their journey, Amir had an odd sense of being watched, and he’d walked with the Glock drawn, all his senses alert. But as the time passed with them only seeing eerie, empty ruins, he’d told himself he was imagining monsters where none existed. His attention had drifted into his own thoughts. Besides, just putting one booted foot in front of the other became harder with each step.

  Even the effort of carrying the gun seemed too much, and he’d tucked his Glock into his waistband. From time to time, he glanced at Moussad, who trudged to Amir’s left, his shoulders hunched. Fatigue etched deep lines around the man’s mouth. The heat had taken a toll on him, too. But at least his bodyguard continued to do his job, remaining vigilant and scanning the ancient city to their left.

  Along with the evaporation of the moisture in his body, the odd détente in the lifelong war he’d raged against his half-brother had vanished. Whatever he’d experienced while floating in the underground pool was long gone, hopefully never to return. Such ideas—about his childhood, about his brother—made him weak.

  Now, finding Khan, and extracting revenge for all the suffering his brother had caused, was almost the only thing keeping him on his feet. With every step, a nasty refrain teased in his head. Khan’s fault. Khan’s fault.

  Up ahead, the track veered away from the open desert toward the ruins, heading between two rusted pillars of metal. The change pulled Amir out of his reverie of vengeance, perking him up a bit. Maybe, at last, they were getting somewhere.

  A broken wall seemed to totter in their direction, as if it would fall over any minute. Although the tracks stayed straight, with unspoken consent, the men detoured beyond the possible crash sight.

  That something’s-watching-us-feeling returned, crawling between Amir’s shoulder blades like a beetle. He pulled out his Glock.

  Moussad glanced at him.

  “Do you feel it, too? Like someone’s out there?”

  The man shrugged. “Could be.”

  A scraping sound came from his right.

  Amir aimed in that direction and held his breath.

  Moussad stepped forward, swinging the AK-47 around.

  Something skidded into their path—a round-bodied, crab-like creature, scaled, with a narrow lizard’s head. Its black eyes stared at them. The jaw dropped, showing tiny, pointed teeth. Several crab claws waved in the air.

  Amir fired. Twice.

  At that range, he couldn’t miss.

  The force of the shots penetrated the thick shell, tossing the creature a few inches into the air, landing it upside down. Claws waved feebly for a few seconds, then stilled.

  Amir glanced at Moussad. Feeling as cool as James Bond, he lifted an eyebrow. “Dinner.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The sharp noises cut through the air. Daria didn’t know whether to clap her hands over her ears to muffle the sound of the shots or stuff a fist into her mouth to keep from crying out. With a great effort of will, she did neither, but her heart beat in double time, and adrenaline flushed her body.

  Khan lay beside her on the bumpy backside of a pile of shale with his shoulder touching hers. He didn’t flinch at the noise. He must be used to it.

  Daria doubted she’d ever adjust to the ear-puncturing noise of the guns. She couldn’t believe how efficiently Amir had just killed the lizard-crab, but now understood Khan’s caution about these new weapons. With the guns in their possession, they’d easily defeat Thaddis.

  She began to fantasize about stealing them while the men slept. Halfway into her daydream of creeping into the enemies’ campsite, Daria realized this idea was foolhardy. They’d better stick to Khan’s plan. But oh, how she wanted those guns!

  She watched Khan’s brother walk over to the lizard-crab and flip it over with the toe of his boot. At about twenty long-paces away, this was the first time the men had come close enough for her to clearly see them without the aid of the telescope. She took the time to study Amir.

  At first glance, he seemed like Khan—almost as tall, with exotic dark skin and a hawk-like nose. But on closer examination, he proved to be a lesser copy. Amir's cheeks were rounder, without the firm chiseled planes of Khan’s. And he lacked Khan’s wide, humorous mouth. Instead, his fleshy lips seemed more inclined to pout than to laugh. Amir’s body was stockier, too. He didn’t possess Khan’s well-muscled physique.

  She turned her attention to Moussad. With broad shoulders and long arms, he’d be a formidable w
arrior with a sword. Of course, he’d need years of training to master the blade. Give her a chance at him without his weapon, and he’d soon be fish fodder. She squinted at the sun, sinking into the horizon. No, the gorilla, as Khan called him, would be lizard-crab food.

  Moussad leaned down and picked up the lizard-crab by one limp claw and held it up, examining the scaly creature, a bovine look on his face.

  Amir glanced around, and then pointed ahead with his chin. He snapped something to Moussad.

  The two men moved on, Moussad carrying the lizard-crab.

  Khan waited until they had tramped out of earshot. “They’re going to try to find a place to make camp,” he whispered. “We’d better head back to the park before it gets dark. Shad can keep watch.”

  With his words, the exhaustion she’d been holding back for the last few hours settled around her shoulders, weighing her down. The two of them had been up early, hauling rocks to block the main road to the park. Then they’d ridden around the outskirts of the city, making tracks, before going to the shrine to monitor the men. If there weren’t a rock digging into her hip, one poking her stomach, and another gouging her shoulder, she’d be tempted to bed down right here.

  Seeming to sense her fatigue, Khan cupped his hand under her elbow, helping her to her feet. As they walked to the horses tethered a short distance away, his hand remained, supporting her arm. Warm. Caring.

  He leaned toward her. “Tomorrow’s the day. They’ll find the drugged water tonight. Tomorrow, they’d wander into the area of the gagh and reptile-dogs. We’ll have to be up early and ready at the new watch point.”

  The thought of those horrible men facing the hellhounds brought a certain satisfaction to Daria. Although she hated the beasts that had killed Micfal almost as much as she loathed and despised Thaddis, she knew the creatures were just acting out their nature. Thaddis was a man who’d chosen his evil path, and Khan’s brother had also. Too bad they couldn’t turn a pack of the hellhounds loose on Thaddis and his men.

  A vengeful fantasy played out in her mind. In tomorrow’s encounter between Amir, Moussad, and the hellhounds, they’d all wipe each other out. Then she and Khan would stroll over, pluck the guns from the men’s limp hands, and proceed to prepare for their war with Thaddis. Her enemy would have no idea what he was riding into.

  ~ ~ ~

  The prospect of food lightened Amir’s mood, although the thought of eating the crab-thing raw turned his stomach. Once they’d made a campsite, he’d set Moussad to banging two stones together; maybe the man could get a fire going.

  He cast a weary eye at the amber sun sinking on the horizon. Under other conditions—like sitting in comfort at a movie theater—he’d admire the beauty of the setting sun trailing ribbons of rose and saffron as it moved across the darkening lavender sky. Now the sight just made him nervous. They had no camping equipment. No water. Only the unlikely prospect of a fire. Who knew what monsters—human or animal—roamed this desolate place.

  He began a visual search of the ruins around them for a likely place to stop for the night. The hoof prints headed for a jumbled pile of boulders. Maybe they’d find something there.

  Up close, the tracks changed. Instead of the double line of steady hoof prints, scattered indentations showed, as if the horses had milled around.

  Amir bent over, studying the ground. There. A boot print. Excitement pierced his exhaustion, and he elbowed Moussad in the ribs. “Look,” he pointed to the ground. “Footprints. Probably Khan’s.” He traced them with his finger. “They look like they’re going into the rocks.”

  Moussad climbed into the rocks and let out a garbled shout.

  Amir reached for his gun before he realized that the noise made by his bodyguard had sounded happy. Not waiting any longer, he scampered up the rocks after him and rounded one large boulder to see Moussad below him. The man knelt in front of a small basin of water, splashing water on his face and into his mouth.

  “Hey, leave some for me.” Amir scrambled down to join him. He pushed Moussad out of the way and dropped to his knees. He splashed some of the warm water over his face. Cupping his hands, he lifted some to his mouth as fast as he could gulp the bitter-tasting liquid. But as thirsty as he was, the voice of reason in his mind only allowed him a brief drink. No sense getting sick. He’d wait a few minutes before having more. In the meantime, he leaned forward until his whole head submerged. Liquid bliss.

  Emerging for air, he shook his head. Droplets sprayed everywhere. He blinked several time to clear the water from his eyes.

  To the side of the tiny pool, he saw a plant with long spiky leaves. He feasted his eyes on the first sign of greenery in this desert, even if it did have yellow splotches plastering the leaves. Probably some sort of pollen.

  He looked around. In the midst of the boulders ringing them in, they’d found a scooped-out area. The largest boulder tilted over the pool, probably keeping the water from being evaporated by the sun. The ground around the elevated basin was covered with powdered sand. He hated the idea of sleeping in the dirt, but at least it was soft dirt.

  He plucked some of the dead leaves from the plant and held them up. “Go find some more tinder, then you can beat two stones together to create sparks and try to make a fire.”

  Moussad nodded. He returned the crab-thing carcass to Amir and climbed up the rocks.

  Amir rolled his eyes and held the dead creature away from him. If they didn’t get a fire started soon, the meat would go bad.

  He scuffed some rocks into a circle with his feet, and then he placed the flattest stones on the bottom of the fire pit. He picked up a big flat rock and tossed it into the water to clean it. Fishing the rock back out, he set it in the middle of the pit, then put the crab-thing on top and tucked the dried leaves around the sides. Not the best way to cook something, but he couldn’t think of what else to do.

  Again, he knelt back down beside the pool and took a longer drink. With water and meat, however unappetizing, they should be able to survive out here. The worry that they’d die in this place—this bizarre other world—had become less intense.

  A few minutes later, Moussad appeared with a handful of sticks and some kind of dried grass. Not enough for a fire lasting more than a few minutes. He wanted to berate the man, send him out again, but he was too tired. Moussad probably wouldn’t find more fuel, anyway.

  Amir moved away to sit against a large boulder, allowing Moussad to take charge of the fire making. To the clap-clap-clap of stones hitting together, he thought over everything that had happened since they’d reached the building in the desert. Maybe he could find some clue to what had happened to them. Were they, indeed, on a different planet as he suspected?

  Once they found Khan and squeezed information out of him and Jasmine, maybe they’d be able to put their discovery to commercial purposes. I’ll be famous. There’d be plenty of people on Earth who'd pay a fortune to travel to another world, even to an ancient ruin.

  The more Amir speculated about the possibilities, the more excitement filled him. The discovery of this place would surely get Martine’s thugs off his back. With his new funds, Amir would be able to gamble as much as he wanted. Although right now, his favorite food and beverages, a bath, and some clean clothes ranked highest on his list of wants.

  Moussad grunted with satisfaction.

  Amir opened his eyes and saw sparks fly onto the kindling. “Blow on it,” he ordered. “Carefully.”

  The sparks caught. With coaxing, soon a small fire blazed. Three of the rocks ignited with a popping sound, blazing orange like miniature fireballs with colored flames, and sending acrid smoke into the air. A strange kind of coal. With a cold stone, Amir pushed the three closer to the meat.

  His job done, Moussad shuffled over to drink some more water.

  Thirst pulled at Amir’s throat, puckering his tongue. He needed another drink of water, too.

  When the shell of the creature seemed sufficiently scorched, Amir used a stone to move the thre
e still-glowing rocks to the edge of the fire pit. He rinsed off another flat rock, then with a second stone, managed to flip the charred carcass onto it. While waiting for the meat to cool, he took a drink, but didn’t feel his thirst was quenched. On the contrary, his mouth seemed even drier.

  When he’d judged the meat to be cool enough, Amir broke off a small piece. He considered making Moussad his poison-tester, but realized he didn’t have much choice. It was either eat or starve.

  He shoved the whitish meat into his mouth and chewed. With relief, he realized it wasn’t too bad. Kind of like lobster, or how he imagined lobster would taste if one cooked it on a rock slab in an open fire and didn’t have melted butter.

  He nodded permission for Moussad to take some.

  They ate in silence, greedily breaking open the tough shells, pulling out the meat, and stuffing it into their mouths.

  The light faded. As the sun set, a chill breeze took a bite off the hot temperature. The night might get cold out in the open.

  Only two claws remained uneaten. “We should save them for breakfast,” Amir said. “We’ll have to hunt some more food tomorrow.”

  He took another drink before stretching out on his back next to the coal-like rocks, hoping their scanty warmth would last the night.

  Moussad curled up on the other side of the fire, his head pillowed in his arms.

  Too exhausted and sore to let the dryness of his mouth keep him awake, Amir drifted off to sleep.

  Howling jerked him awake, and he grabbed his Glock and stumbled to his feet, then realized the unearthly sounds came from Moussad.

  On his feet and baying madly, the man pointed his AK-47 at the sky and let off a series of rounds.

  Amir lunged for him, knocking the man’s arms toward the ground. A bullet ricocheted off a rock, pinging past him. He cursed at the top of his lungs, shaking Moussad with each word.