The Impossible Contract

by K A Doore

  Thana chewed her words, unable to meet Mo’s gaze. The choice was simple enough. Tell Mo the truth now, or lie and risk Mo finding out later. What would Amastan do? He’d hold to the story, come storm or drought. If Mo knew who Thana was, she could slip and tell Heru. Mo’s goodwill wouldn’t help Thana complete the contract. Telling her would only complicate things.

  But … if Thana told Mo now, when it was still her choice, then maybe Mo would stay quiet. Mo could be an ally, even an asset. Her mother had always told Thana to keep the healers happy. They were so often the slim line between life and death. If Thana made an enemy of Mo, the healer would do everything she could to keep Heru alive. But if Mo were her friend, Thana might be able to stop her from helping him.

  Besides, it’d be nice to talk to someone else aside from Melwa on this tedious journey. Sending up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t regret this decision, Thana undid the knot of her tagel and let it fall, exposing her features.

  Mo’s eyes widened with recognition. “It’s Thana, right? What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t want to help stop Djet.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You said as much.” Mo crossed her arms. “Why are you hiding? Is this a game for you?”

  Thana breathed deep to quell her rising annoyance. “It’s no game. I’m as concerned about Djet and his monsters as you.”

  “Then why hide?” pressed Mo. “Why not join us openly? Isn’t Heru your friend?”

  “He’s, uh, more of an acquaintance. We bonded over a card game.” The lie tasted hollow. Mo deserved better than that. Thana glanced around, then stepped in close and lowered her voice. “Look, to be entirely honest, one of the drum chiefs paid me to keep an eye on him. Why send the Empress’s marabi as an ambassador? Something else is going on. I was hired to find out what.”

  Mo tilted her head, some of her animosity fading.

  “Unfortunately,” continued Thana, “that contract was open-ended. Because of those monsters, I still don’t know what he’s really doing. And I can’t return until I have that information.” She spread her hands. “I thought if I could infiltrate the caravan and pose as an Azali, I might find out. I wasn’t trying to deceive anyone but Heru.”

  “You’ve still got that.” Mo glanced in Heru’s direction, even though he was out of sight. “For one of the Empress’s marab, he’s quite … unobservant.”

  “What about you?” asked Thana. “Why did you come with him?”

  “He asked.”

  Thana’s mouth fell open, but she immediately snapped it shut. “He what?”

  Mo folded her arms. “He said he wanted an objective witness to present to his Empress.”

  “Why not write down what you saw? Asking you to cross the desert seems excessive.”

  Mo straightened. “Heru might find a way to stop Djet on his own, but I can’t trust my city’s safety to a foreigner. I’m doing my duty as a healer.” Then her expression softened. “Besides, I’ll never have a chance like this to leave Ghadid again. Healers are too precious to risk letting them walk on the open sands.” Her last words held a bitterness that took Thana by surprise.

  “Surely if you’d wanted to leave, no one would’ve stopped you.”

  Mo snorted. “Not by force, no. But healing is G-d’s greatest gift, and you can’t just throw that away. Not when you could save so many people. But now I’m going to save even more people than if I’d stayed put. Enass can’t fault me for that.”

  “No,” said Thana slowly. “She can’t. Well, you’ve picked a great place to break your tradition for. I’ve heard Na Tay Khet has open water.”

  “And it sits on the sands with a wall all around,” added Mo, some of the bitterness easing. “And there’s a palace made of gold and markets that span whole neighborhoods.”

  “Plants everywhere, not just in glasshouses,” said Thana. “The sun is so gentle that no one wears clothes. All the women are topless.”

  Mo’s eyes widened. She let out a noise that was half snort, half giggle. “How do you know so much about it?”

  “Whenever I was angry with my mother as a kid, I imagined sneaking away at night and joining the Azal,” admitted Thana. “Of course that meant I needed to learn everything about the city, since all the caravans end up there.”

  “Enass healed a drum chief once and used his favor to borrow a scroll about the city for me.” Mo’s smile tightened. “She thought that would be enough to satisfy my curiosity.”

  “That only made it worse, didn’t it?”

  Mo looked away. “She was trying to help. It’s not her fault there are so few healers.” When she turned back, her smile was loose and bright again. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Na Tay Khet.”

  Thana couldn’t help but smile back. “You’re going to see it yourself in another week.”

  “But that’s a week. I can’t wait that long.”

  Thana cleared her throat, then caught Mo’s gaze. “I’ll tell you all the stories I know, whenever I can, but Heru can’t see us talking together. He can’t know I’m here. Can I trust you not to tell him about me? We’ll never know his true reason for visiting Ghadid if he learns I’m spying on him.”

  “I can respect that,” said Mo slowly. A soft smile turned up her lips. “All right, if you can’t tell me stories, at least promise to explore Na Tay Khet with me. Don’t get your hopes up about Heru, though—all I’ve seen him do is write in his scrolls. He’s a strange man.”

  Thana’s smile widened. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  12

  By sunrise, Heru looked drawn and pale. After they’d broken camp, he’d slowly drifted from the front of the caravan toward the back. Now only a few exhausted merchants were between him and the tail end of the caravan. Thana had matched his pace to keep an eye on him. He’d paused to squat and relieve himself more than a dozen times already: the poison was working.

  Now he was trying to mount his camel by swinging up into his saddle while the beast was still walking, like an Azali. He’d managed this before—by the third day, even the least proficient merchant had learned the maneuver. But this time he was having considerable trouble. Finally he gave up, stopped his camel, and couched it. He climbed into the saddle, but by the time his camel rocked upright, his skin shone with sweat. Heru leaned to one side and retched, then used the edge of his wrap to wipe off his mouth under his tagel.

  Unfortunately, by the time the caravan stopped for the afternoon, Mo had noticed his illness. Thana was bent over her things, pretending to search for something but listening intently, when Mo approached the mark. Heru crouched shivering beside his camel, sipping from his waterskin. He’d had just enough energy to set up his tent, but it was skewed at an angle and one side looked like the wind was going to rip it free at any moment.

  Heru didn’t look up. “Took you long enough.”

  Mo eyed the skin. “You should be careful with how much you drink. The storm set us back almost a full day. With your loss and Amash joining us, we’re already too low.”

  “Heal me,” demanded Heru.

  “I have some poultices—” began Mo.

  “No.” Despite his weakness, Heru’s voice was sharp. “You will heal me. Then you’ll give me your water and I’ll leave this wretched pack. I can make the well in easily half the time it’ll take these dust-cursed camels and their flea-ridden masters. I’m sick of this protracted pace, and I’ll likely die of it. Unless you heal me.”

  “You can’t go alone,” said Mo. “There’re bandits and jackals, not to mention wild jaan. Besides, you don’t know the way. You’d get lost and wander in circles.”

  “You underestimate me,” said Heru.

  Then he turned and heaved a yellow froth onto the sand. Thana’s own stomach roiled at the splash and she quickly cleared her mind to keep from following his lead. Heru grunted and clutched at his knees as the flies thickened and converged on his vomit.

  Mo sighed. “Close your eyes and tilt
your head back.”

  Thana adjusted her tagel and headed for the nearest tent. She couldn’t stand to watch Mo undo all of her work. And now she had to plan for the possibility that Heru would up and leave them. But before she was even halfway to the tent, a shout rang out.

  “Hold together! Weapons out! Bandits approaching from the north!”

  Helmek thundered past, already mounted on his camel. He was circling the caravan, drawing them tighter together as he repeated his warning. Thana ran for Melwa, swinging up for a better view. Around her, the caravan boiled with activity, tents coming down and pack camels brought to its center. To the north, Thana could just see a cluster of dark shapes. A dozen or so, all on foot, and—if the glint of metal was any indication—their weapons drawn.

  A dozen bandits against a whole caravan of armed Azal? It was no contest. Yet unease pulsed through Thana. Nearby, Heru stood and turned north. Mo stumbled back, a faint blue glow fading rapidly from her skin. At least Mo hadn’t gotten far with her healing.

  “Warriors! Form up!” yelled Helmek. He’d stopped at the edge of the caravan. Now he drew his sword and raised it high.

  Blades were drawn all around Thana in a collective shhnk of metal on metal. Azal surged forward, forming a wall of weapons and beasts between the bandits and the rest of the caravan. Thana let herself be drawn with them, her body singing with eagerness for a fight. She knew she should hang back, stay safe, watch for an opening to further sabotage or hurt Heru, but it’d been weeks since she’d last sparred with one of her cousins, and sticking with her disguise in the caravan had meant no chance for training. Taking out a few bandits would be a welcome exercise.

  The wall of Azal hardened as the bandits approached. Thana narrowed her eyes against the glare. Something was off. The bandits’ movements were jerky, unnatural. They held their swords at their sides or loose in front of them, as an afterthought. Their gray and brown wraps hadn’t been reknotted for a fight, but flapped freely in the wind.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Thana caught a figure approaching the Azal’s protective wall. Heru. He still looked drawn and pale, but he moved more easily than before. He was on foot, and he stopped just behind the camels. Good. Maybe he’d get trampled in the fight.

  The air was hot as flames and stank of camel and sweat and fear. Around her, camels grunted, leather creaked, and Azal cleared their throats. But the bandits approached in absolute silence, the sand sucking up even the sound of their footfalls.

  “Hello!” shouted Helmek, his voice cracking across the sands. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  The bandits gave no answer.

  “Are you sane?” shouted Helmek.

  The bandits gave no answer. Still they ran, all but stumbling over their own feet. Silent. Shouldn’t they be shouting by now, trying to terrify their prey? The Azal were shifting nervously around Thana. Maybe this was some bizarre new tactic. But Thana’s unease only grew.

  “There must be a whole camp nearby,” muttered one woman next to her. “Look—they carry no water, no supplies. Where are their camels?”

  “This is your final warning,” called Helmek. “Turn back!”

  But the bandits gave no answer. They were close enough now that Thana could see their eyes, open wide despite the sun’s glare. All at once, Thana’s unease exploded into panic. The bandits’ eyes were milky white.

  They were dead.

  “Charge!”

  The camels lunged forward, heads outstretched and riders yelling. Melwa surged with them, although Thana hadn’t prodded her. Her ears rang and her mouth was dry, horror cottoning her thoughts. She had to stop them, they couldn’t win against the bound, not like this. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner?

  The two lines crashed into each other. The Azal drove through the bandits with ease, swinging their swords as they thundered past. Their blades struck true, scoring deep wounds and severing limbs. The bandits didn’t bother to defend themselves and struck back. A camel bellowed as a blade bit into its side. Another bucked as a bandit scrabbled onto its back.

  Thana let Melwa carry her through the chaos, some of her initial shock finally giving way to resolve. She turned her camel and faced the fight. Where had Heru found all these men and why would he attack the caravan? Were they like the men in the inn, bound that had somehow broken from his control? Or maybe this was Heru’s way of securing enough water for himself.

  The Azal had struck fast and strong, but they were no match for men who felt neither pain nor fear. Two bound had climbed onto camels and now bit and scratched and tore at flesh, catching the Azal off guard. One Azali fell from camel to sand, then another. The bound on the camels turned their savagery on the beasts themselves while those on the ground swarmed the fallen. The fight that should’ve been over in a heartbeat had turned into a slaughter.

  Helmek was among the fallen. He staggered to his feet and swung his sword, trying to hold back the bound. But they weren’t so easily dissuaded. Four attacked at once, swarming him like water-hungry wasps. He disappeared beneath them.

  Thana shouted and dug her knees into Melwa’s neck, steering toward Helmek. She freed two small blades and leaned forward, Melwa’s lead pinched precariously between her fingers. She hadn’t been able to protect Amastan, but G-d willing, she would protect Helmek.

  She swung at the bound on Helmek, then jerked Melwa back around to go at them again. They ignored her and continued tearing at the caravan leader, who had somehow regained his footing and was just barely keeping them back with wild swings from his sword. But his technique, while suitable for the living, didn’t work at all against the bound. His sword split open the stomach of one, a slither of intestines falling to the sand. But Helmek turned too soon to the next, only to be grabbed from behind by the bound he’d just gutted.

  Feti strode through the fray like a vengeful angel. She severed one arm and hacked at a leg, then yanked Helmek free from the tumult. She shoved him out of the way and swung at the bound, her more precise attacks knocking them back. Helmek fell, his chest heaving and his wrap spattered with gore. He struggled to his feet, but his leg gave out and he fell again.

  Thana jumped from Melwa, trusting her skills better on the sand, and rushed toward Feti. “You can’t kill them! Just run!”

  Feti ignored her to strike at an incoming bound. As the blade crashed down on the bound’s head, a second one grabbed her arm and pulled her over. The first bound ignored the blow to its head and slammed into her. Feti stumbled, lost her footing, fell. The bound tumbled to the sands with her, its hands finding her throat. Feti struggled to stand as the bound strangled her. Thana tried to run faster, but the sand was unforgiving. She was still over a dozen feet away when a second bound rammed its sword clean through the first—and into Feti.

  No. Thana slid to a stop as blood spread across the back of Feti’s wrap and the older woman stopped struggling. Feti fell. The bound around her lost interest. Their heads turned and sightless eyes fixed on Thana.

  Thana slipped backward, turned, ran. Melwa. She needed to find her camel. She wouldn’t be able to fight them but she could still outrun them.

  Melwa wasn’t far, only a few dozen feet away. But bound swarmed over the dead Azal toward the camel. She reared and kicked, her nostrils and eyes wide with panic. She snapped at one bound and tried to run, but another had grabbed her lead and weighed her down, turning her lunge into a stumble.

  Thana stopped thinking. She ran. She threw a small knife into the fray of dead attacking her camel, but she might as well have spat at them for all the good it did. One had managed to climb onto the bucking beast’s back. With empty hands, the bound grabbed Melwa’s neck and wrenched it, hard. Too hard. A crack rent the air.

  Thana halted. She could only stand and watch as Melwa collapsed like an old building. She’d spent so much time near that camel, both on her back and walking by her side, attending to her needs and whispering worries into her ear and now—

  A keen numbness spread through Thana, heig
htening her senses as it dulled her emotions. She slashed at the nearest bound, cutting away some of its wrap to reveal desiccated flesh underneath, bloodless and drawn tight across protruding bone. The sight brought her back to the tables at the healers, the corpses on them scored by deep marks. Thana knew exactly what she had to do.

  The bound lunged at her. She reflexively brought up her blade and her knife slid into the bound’s chest. But it wasn’t dissuaded. It hissed, breath like old, rotten meat, and tore at her arm. Thana growled and kicked off from the bound, letting go of her knife. No matter. As the bound spun away, she loosed another dagger and readied herself.

  When the bound lunged again—they were so predictable—Thana sidestepped, brought her foot up, and landed a blow in the square of its back. The bound sprawled on the sand and Thana ripped its wrap down, exposing the marks beneath. She ran her knife clean through them, then jerked away before the creature could attack again.

  The bound fell limp, as if all the air had been sucked from it. Something thin and dark as smoke rose from the body, but the wind snatched it away. Thana tentatively stepped closer and prodded the body with her foot, but it remained as still as a corpse. She let out the breath she’d been holding, then pulled her blade from the man’s chest and wiped it clean on the sand. Finally, she surveyed the carnage, her gaze skipping across the few remaining Azal as she sought out one specific person.

  There. A flash of blue amid the turmoil of brown and red. Thana’s heart almost stopped. Mo’s camel had been torn out from under her, quite literally. Pieces of the beast were strewn across the blood-stained sand. Mo was keeping the bound at bay with only a length of wood—a repurposed tent stake—turning and swiping and turning and swiping. One bound dodged her swipes and, as she turned, grabbed for her.

  Thana threw her dagger. It sliced through the bound’s arm. Not her target, but it was difficult to aim such a large knife. Still, it worked: the bound was thrown off by the force of the blow and Mo got out of the way. She smacked her makeshift staff across its head as it stumbled past, and then again when it fell face-first into the sand.