by Jon Monson
Aydiin grabbed the doorknob and pushed his way into the room. A small lantern burned in the corner, near the window. The orange light fought against the darkness, casting long shadows from the room’s simple furniture.
A fireplace – used only during the cooler nights of the rainy season – took up the far corner of the room, with two ancient armchairs set up to enjoy the flames’ warmth. A simple wooden desk and chair held the room’s lantern along with several unopened envelopes. Next to the bed stood a small cot and nightstand holding a wash basin, which contained what Aydiin hoped to be fresh water.
Small as the cot was, it called out to his aching bones. The sweat and grime coating his skin reminded him a quick wash from the basin would be needed before retiring for the night, but that could wait for at least a few minutes. Unslinging his pack and tossing the leather bag to the floor, Aydiin dove for the bed.
The sound of metal hitting the stone floor stopped Aydiin mid dive. Landing maladroitly on the mattress, Aydiin lifted his head to look at the pack. The flap had come open, spilling the entirety of the bag’s contents onto the floor.
Sitting apart from the clothing and food rations, a round disc of gold gleamed in the lamplight. The orange flame that bathed the room lingered on the object, its sheen growing brighter. It called to him, although the room remained silent. Aydiin slid off the bed and onto the floor, his hands trembling as they approached the gold.
“Well that’s a mighty pretty piece yeh’ve got there, mate,” a voice sounded from the darkness.
Aydiin jumped, scrambling back onto the bed. A surge of adrenaline rushed through his veins, his muscles growing tense. Yet there was something about that voice.
“You can’t do that to me, Barrick,” Aydiin shouted, a grin spreading across his face as he rose to his feet. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve had a rough day.”
“Sorry, mate – I didn’t mean to scare yeh like that,” Barrick responded, stepping further into the light.
Tall and lean with a pale yet ruddy complexion, Barrick Fortescue had been Aydiin’s closest friend for the past five years. Those years out of his home country had done little to dispel his thick Albonan accent, nor had they forced him to accept the robes and head coverings preferred by Salatians. Even in the heat of the desert, Barrick sported his usual brown shirt and trousers held in place with suspenders, his shockingly red hair topped off with a tweed bowler.
“Of course you did,” Aydiin said. “Besides drinking, that’s probably your favorite past time.”
“And women,” Barrick winked. “Don’t forget women.”
“My apologies for excluding them from the list,” Aydiin said.
“I’ll let it slide this time,” Barrick said, picking up the golden disc and plopping down into one of the dilapidated armchairs. “Where did you get this thing?”
“One of my uncle’s bandits slipped it into my bag,” Aydiin said, taking a seat on the bed. “In all the rush of capturing him, I’d forgotten about it until just now.”
“Congratulations on that, by the way,” Barrick said, looking up at Aydiin. “The whole town’s buzzin’ bout the victory.”
“It was all Askari’s doing,” Aydiin sighed. “I just allowed myself to be used as bait.”
“Well that’s not the version you’ll be tellin’ people. There’s no glory in being bait,” Barrick laughed. “Where’s your beloved uncle now? Don’t tell me he’s already been executed.”
“No, he’s bound in the keep’s dungeons,” Aydiin said, nodding in the direction of the main building. “Remember that Oltu used to be one of the most important cities in the Sultanate – this fortress is ancient, but certainly well-built. Escaping from that high tower would be next to impossible.”
“Well, the sooner he’s dealt with, the better,” Barrick said.
“Agreed,” Aydiin sighed. “But my father – in his infinite wisdom – has ordered me to take him back to Maradon to face trial. There are magistrates here who would gladly find him guilty and order his quick death.”
“Oh, yeh know yer old man, mate,” Barrick smiled. “He’s needing a victory right about now. Killing Lord Agha in Surion Square would do wonders for his approval ratin’.”
“I know - it just irks me,” Aydiin said. “Uncle Agha still has supporters who weren’t captured. The longer he’s alive, the more chance it gives them to plot some sort of revenge.”
“Well, we’ll just have to get going right away,” Barrick laughed. “Not to say that I’m complainin’. The taverns here are right boring, they are.”
“It’s probably from the state of fear and near-starvation caused by my uncle and his thieves,” Aydiin sighed. “By the way, what exactly are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t just leave yeh to receive all the credit,” Barrick chuckled. “Still can’t believe yeh left me behind on the greatest adventure yet.”
“You know my father would never have allowed a foreigner to accompany me on a military expedition,” Aydiin said. “Besides, it was so rushed I didn’t have time to let you know.”
“Oh, no need to explain yerself,” Barrick said, his smile growing wider. “I know all about yer old man’s policies on foreigners. Let’s just say I’ve always wanted to visit the ‘Gem of the North,’ and I figured now was as good a time as any.”
“Oltu hasn’t been a gem for decades,” Aydiin sighed. “The mines are failing, its population is about a tenth of what it used to be. Even before Agha tried to starve the city out, it was already well into a death spiral.”
“Right,” Barrick said, looking down at the disc in his hands. “Onto a bit more cheerful of topics – what in the Underworld is this blasted thing?”
“I haven’t even looked at it yet,” Aydiin said. “Like I said, a bandit slipped it into my bag while I was being taken to Agha’s camp - I was otherwise preoccupied at the time.”
“So if one of those blasted crooks gave it to yeh, we should probably just toss it – could be dangerous.”
“I’m not quite so sure,” Aydiin sighed. “He told me I’m a good man, and he sincerely hoped I survive. Not exactly the words of a potential assassin.”
“So the bloke just wanted to add a bit to yer stockpiles of gold,” Barrick said. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Aydiin said. “What’s on the disc? I saw some sort of engraving.”
“I can’t make heads or tails of it,” Barrick said, tossing it to his long-time friend. “One side’s got lots of little dots and lines. The other’s got some sort of tower.”
Aydiin caught the disc mid-air and brought it into the lantern light for closer examination. It took up most of his palm and was heavier than expected. One side was indeed covered in dots and lines while the other contained the engraving of a tower he had seen somewhere else.
“So the dots and lines are a star chart,” Aydiin said, flipping the disc over, trying to see as much of it as possible at once. “They’re used by navigators to not get lost on the open seas.”
“Well that’s right useful, it is,” Barrick nodded. “The bandit’s trying to get yeh across the sea safe and sound.”
“The tower is -,” Aydiin stopped. He knew where he’d seen this before.
“Y’alright, mate?” Barrick asked, leaning in. “Yeh look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”
“Barrick, this is the Lonely Spire,” Aydiin gasped. “This disc is a map to the Lonely Spire.”
“I probably should be more used to this by now, but I have no idea what yer on about,” Barrick said, a smile spreading across his face as he slouched back into the chair.
“The Lonely Spire – it’s a myth, a legendary edifice supposedly in the depths of the Soulless Desert,” Aydiin said, rising to his feet.
“So we’ve been given a map to a place that doesn’t exist,” Barrick sighed. “And here I thought we were going to start some grand adventure.”
“People used to venture into the Soulless Desert looking for
the Spire. No one ever returned, so my grandfather made it illegal,” Aydiin said, pacing the floor. “The Spire supposedly contains a trove of artifacts from the Age of Divinity. Can you imagine what we might find?”
“No, but you can, and that’s what’s important,” Barrick smiled. “Could yeh really follow that star chart through those dunes?”
“I think so,” Aydiin said, stopping to look at his friend. “Look, we’re only a few hours from the edges of the Desert. We might not ever get another chance at this.”
“Wait, so we’re not already in a desert?” Barrick asked, eyes growing wide.
“Oltu will seem like a lush jungle compared to the Soulless Desert,” Aydiin said. “There’s enough moisture here to support at least some life. Once we cross those mountains, we’ll enter a land that has never seen rain.”
“Well that sounds like an adventure,” Barrick said. “But what about that looney uncle of yours? Yeh did just say we hafta take him back to Maradon before his supporters regroup.”
“Oh, he’ll be safe enough in that old fortress, and we’ll deal with that when we get back,” Aydiin waved his hand. “Think of the adventure.”
“What about supplies? We’ll need camels, water sacks, the works.”
“Oltu’s not that small of a place,” Aydiin said. “We can get all that in the morning. I hear there’s even a merchant from Naerdon. He’s been stranded for months with a cart full of gadgets that nobody’s been interested in.”
“You and those useless inventions,” Barrick rolled his eyes.
“Useless?” Aydiin almost shouted. “Remember that hand-cranked dart gun that saved your life in the jungles of Lusita?”
“I still say that snake wasn’t poisonous,” Barrick said. “But alright – yeh’ve never led me wrong so far. We’ll leave at first light.”
“Well then, we’d better get going,” Aydiin said, moving towards the window. To the east, the red light of dawn was starting to peek over the mountains that separated him from adventure.
Chapter 3
A warm breeze assaulted Aydiin’s face, pelting his skin with coarse grains of sand. He lifted the filthy shemagh to protect himself, breathing in the dirt and grime that had attached itself to the cloth over the past week. Yet the stench didn’t bother him – it served as a reminder that he was on his greatest adventure yet.
The breeze – the first he’d felt since entering these endless dunes – dwindled and died. The all-pervasive silence that had accompanied him returned. Aydiin felt he preferred the wind.
The white sand of the Soulless Desert practically glowed in the moonlight as if it had absorbed the sun’s light during the day. The almost-luminescent dunes stretched on as far as he could see, no matter the direction he looked. It was almost a beautiful sight. Almost.
The monotony – even of something so unique – weighed on his soul. His limbs lacked the usual energy that accompanied such adventures. Something told him it stemmed from more than just the heat and dehydration.
As if to echo his sentiments, Askari let out a soft moan and Aydiin reached down to pat his friend on his long scaly neck. A thin, forked tongue snaked out between razor sharp teeth, tasting the dry air. Askari turned his head, and Aydiin found himself peering into one of the kerton’s deep yellow eyes.
I don’t like this place. I find it upsetting.
Those eyes were always able to convey so much emotion. Even after more than a decade of friendship, Aydiin was unable to communicate his own thoughts and feelings with such skill. He was forced to use language, something that Askari didn’t seem to need.
“I know, it’s a strange land,” Aydiin said, his eyes moving to scan the horizon. “But we’re close.”
Askari only growled in response and continued through the dunes with his gentle gait. The kerton’s powerful hind legs pounded on the sand, his clawed feet unaffected by the warmth that still clung to the dunes. A large tail extended backwards, rocking back and forth in sync with the kerton’s gait, helping the creature to maintain balance.
Even at night, with only the moon and stars shining down on the dunes, the sun’s heat never seemed to relinquish its hold on the Soulless Desert. Sweat clung to his body underneath the loose cotton of his clothing. With barely enough water to drink, he felt like he would never be clean again.
“Think of the adventure,” Barrick said, imitating Aydiin as he brought his camel alongside Askari. “I can’t believe I ever listened to yeh, mate. We could be back in Maradon right now, basking in the glory of your military genius.”
“Now that sounds terribly dull. Besides, we’re so close,” Aydiin said, pulling out the golden disc that had started this journey. “I think tonight is the night.”
“Yeah, that’s what yeh said last night, and the night before,” Barrick said. “Did yeh ever stop to think that whoever gave yeh that disc is completely nutters?”
“Of course I’ve thought of it,” Aydiin turned in his saddle to face his friend. “It just hasn’t stopped me.”
“Aydiin, we’ve been out here for a week – travelling at night, sleeping in tents during the day. I think it’s gettin’ ter me.”
“I don’t really see how that’s much different from your preferred schedule,” Aydiin laughed. “I’ve rarely seen you awake before noon.”
“There’s a big difference between drinkin’ at The Sultan’s Blessing and travelling in this blasted wasteland,” Barrick said. “Haven’t yeh noticed how quiet it is? It’s downright unnatural.”
“Of course it’s quiet,” Aydiin said. “That’s why it’s called the Soulless Desert. Nothing lives here – absolutely nothing. How could it? There’s no rain, no oases, nothing.”
“That’s kinda my point, mate,” Barrick said, scratching the scraggly beard that had started growing without enough water to spare for a shave. “I’m all fer findin’ ancient treasure, but I’m thinking it might be time to turn back.”
“Turn back?” Aydiin asked. “It’s only been a week. Did we turn back after a week on the Great Plains? Or in the Grand Floresta?”
“Well, no,” Barrick said. “But we didn’t exactly find what we were looking for, either. Besides, we were able to live off the land there a bit better. Out here, when we run out of water, that’s it. And we’re already halfway through what we’ve brought.”
“I know we’re running out of time,” Aydiin sighed. “Just give me one more night.”
Aydiin turned in his saddle to get a better look at the two camels they had brought with them into the desert. The beasts plodded along, connected to the saddle on Barrick’s mount by a long rope. The two creatures were rather docile – the rope was not exactly required.
The camels were the perfect creatures for this adventure. Strapped to their back were packs of food and water, enough for two weeks. When they had set out, that had seemed like enough. Now, as he looked at the empty water skins, he found himself wishing they had double that amount.
“Alright, but that’s all yeh get,” Barrick said, holding a single finger in the air. “Tomorrow night, we turn back.”
“I can make that deal, because I know we’re so close,” Aydiin smiled, looking up at the stars. “Tonight really is the night.”
A low vibration emanated from Askari’s chest, the sensation running through Aydiin’s legs. The kerton’s growl was rather subdued, but Aydiin knew to pay attention to the noise. Askari was observant, and was yet to growl at nothing.
The kerton’s muscles tensed, and so did Aydiin’s. Askari lifted his head, stretching his long neck until the tendons were almost visible. His nostrils flared, sucking in more of the night air.
“Does he smell somethin’?” Barrick asked, his posture growing straighter. Askari’s growling increased, the vibrations beginning to irritate Aydiin’s leg.
“I’m not sure,” Aydiin whispered. “It’s probably nothing – maybe he just doesn’t like the smell of the camels.”
“That kerton isn’t one to freak out over nothin’. Re
member when he did this in the Grand Floresta?”
“That was a rain forest, teeming with life,” Aydiin said, patting Askari’s neck. “This is the Soulless Desert. It doesn’t exactly have the ecosystem to support massive jaguars.”
A deep-throated scream sounded from behind, and Aydiin turned again in his saddle. The noise was cut short, although it seemed to hang in the air.
One of the camels was missing. The rope attaching it to Barrick’s saddle had been severed, the fraying cord now making a line in the sand as the small caravan continued forward. Aydiin’s mouth dropped open at the sight.
The remaining camel seemed unaffected. It plodded along, its droopy eyes indicating that it hadn’t even noticed the disappearance of its companion. Those eyes turned to Aydiin’s, bored and tired.
Aydiin pulled on Askari’s reins, and the kerton turned around as well.
“You heard that too, right?” Barrick asked, also turning his camel.
“The camel’s been cut free,” Aydiin said, pointing to the rope. “Someone must be following us.”
“I dunno, Aydiin,” Barrick drawled. “It’s hard ter see how they could have gotten away with that camel so fast. There’s not exactly a plethora of hiding spots.”
“Well, then offer your own theory instead of just poking holes in mine,” Aydiin shot back.
“Easy, mate,” Barrick held up his hands in surrender. “I ain’t got one either.”
Askari growled again, and Aydiin’s heart nearly stopped. Squinting, he looked across the dunes. His muscles grew taut, his jaw clenched.
The sand shifted underneath the remaining pack camel’s feet. Two tentacles – each longer and thicker than Askari’s tail – shot out of the ground, wrapping around the unsuspecting pack animal. Its half-shut eyes grew wide as a low scream launched from its throat. The tentacles tightened their grip and pulled the camel underneath the sand.
“Run,” Aydiin shouted, pulling on Askari’s reins. The kerton didn’t need his urging, pivoting quickly on his powerful hind legs. A cloud of sand kicked up as his feet pounded into the grainy soil.
