Dominic frowned. “Won’t ravines be dangerous when they fill with water?”
Sonam shook his head sharply. “This storm is not with water, but sand. It picks it up and carries it with the winds. They usually do not come in this season. If they had known, they would have gone a different way. This way is shorter but too open.”
They moved quickly. Now Ardhuin was aware of an oppressive feeling in the air, an itchy feeling on her skin. The horses were skittish and difficult to handle; even Dominic’s easygoing horse had to be held so he could mount. The camels changed their minds and decided instead of staying hunkered down they would do their best to run away. The delay was making the guides frantic, and when the group finally was able to move, they set a quick pace.
They traveled for hours under that same oppressive, dull sky. Ardhuin wondered if perhaps they had avoided the storm—she felt no wind—but the guides had not slacked the pace for an instant. The only time they stopped was to give their horses water, and even that was rushed.
Something caught her attention, and she turned in the saddle to look behind where they had been—and nearly screamed. What looked like a giant wall was moving slowly but inexorably across the plain, following them. How high was it? How would a ravine possibly give them enough shelter to survive?
They kept going. They passed a group of three obo, one much bigger than the others and with its spire mostly broken off. It had fragments of blue tile on its dome, and the base of the spire had jutting projections, like wings. Dominic stiffened as they went by, suddenly turning and staring at the obo.
“So that’s it! I think…it feels like the ley lines back home. Are these shrine things causing it? But I don’t see any magic…”
“Ley lines are natural, and they occur everywhere. Why do you think the obo would cause them?”
He grimaced. “Because every time we come near one, I feel ley lines. So perhaps they are markers? But you said the ley lines move.”
“They do, usually…but not very far. How strange, since the obo are obviously very old.” Dominic shrugged, and Ardhuin concentrated on following the camels, who had gotten ahead. The air was getting dusty, and her eyes stung. She refused to look back at the looming wall of the storm.
“We are losing visibility,” yelled Markus. “How much farther? I don’t want us lost in this dust.”
“They say we should take rope, tie together,” Sonam called back. “We must not stop here, we will die. Put cloth over your mouth and nose, and for the horses too.”
Everyone dismounted. Ardhuin ripped up one of her few remaining shirts to breathe through. The storm…where was the storm? She couldn’t see it—and then she realized with a wave of fear that the wall had already passed over them. The wind was mild, but she could barely see the camels only a few yards ahead. If they had not stopped and tied themselves together, she might already be lost.
The dust got thicker. How could the guides know where to go? Any landmarks would be lost in the murk; even the sun was diffused and impossible to pinpoint overhead. They needed to see.
If the dust was out of the way, they could. Dust…her great–uncle had set a cleaning spell on Peran, many years ago. Dust and crumbs on the floor were wafted away. If she remembered how it went, how it could be modified here…
She gripped the stirrup of her horse’s saddle in one hand, trusting it would follow the others, and concentrated. Light magic, but over a large area. Nudging aside the sand in the air, not allowing any more to enter. Was it her imagination, or could she see Dominic more clearly now?
“Oh, that’s much better,” he said, and coughed. “It’s your doing, yes?”
Seeing the clear space, the others congregated, and Sonam called to the guides ahead to join them. The camels milled about but made no attempt to leave the dust–free dome Ardhuin had created.
“This is a big help.” Markus wiped damp grime from his face. “How much of an effort is it for you? Can I help maintain it?”
A gust of wind swirled through them, and Ardhuin staggered. “It’s not that much…power. But a large…area, I had hoped…we could see where to go.”
“Well, let’s get everyone closer for now. Maybe we can wait this out.”
Sonam shook his head, looking grim. “The storms can last for days. We must keep moving and find shelter. Even a large hill would help a little, but we need that ravine or something like it.”
“I think Sonam mentioned an area with ravines,” Dominic said slowly. “If we were headed in the general direction, would it be enough?”
Sonam discussed this with the guides, who nodded emphatically. “Yes, there are many in that place. They think they still have the right heading, but with no way to check we can easily go astray.”
“Which direction?” Gutrune asked. The guide pointed. “Do we have a compass?” There was an awkward silence.
“Of all the things we neglected to bring…” Markus sighed and wiped his face.
“They do not work very well near the Sky–Holding Mountains,” Sonam said. “It is perhaps not important.”
“It would be rather useful now,” Markus snapped. “What can we do? Keep going in a straight line and hope?”
“I think I may have an idea.” Dominic untied his rope. He looked nervous. He darted away from the line of travelers, into the dust.
“No! Dominic! What are you doing?” Ardhuin struggled with her own rope, then stopped and extended her power the direction he had gone. He was already returning, coughing.
“I thought I felt it…and it is there. The ley line. It is different than ours, it feels very…sharp? Narrow? It’s going that way,” he pointed, “which is not that far off from the direction we need to go. I can track that.”
“But Dominic…” her voice trailed off. “You would need to stay in contact for a long time. It’s too dangerous.”
He looked at her grimly. “It is too dangerous for us to even be discussing this. I don’t have to stay in it the whole time. Just now and then, to make sure we’re on course.”
She wanted to argue, but he was right. There was no time. She tried to think of a way to protect him, but how could she do that without blocking his sense of the ley line?
Their travel soon became a delirious nightmare, putting one foot in front of the other in a dome of uniform pale reddish dust. It sometimes seemed they were not moving at all; even the rocks that appeared looked the same. Every so often Dominic would leave to check their direction—now with a longer rope, at her insistence—and sometimes they had to correct course. He was starting to show the effects of the ley line, too. He was seeing things that weren’t there, rambling in his speech, but he remembered enough to continue guiding them. She hoped…she prayed he would not get so ill this time, but it was a feeble hope. I can’t lose him. Not when I’m the reason he’s here.
Keeping the shield up, and moving, took all of her concentration. The familiar pins–and–needles sensation of overextension made itself known—but what could she do? She had to keep the protection up or they were truly lost.
Hours of walking. She was hanging on to her horse’s saddle to keep upright, letting it pull her forward. Her mouth was so dry she could not speak.
Then she heard a shout ahead. It sounded frantic—or excited. She could barely understand Sonam when he ran back to her. All she knew was it was not the promised ravine, yet they had stopped. Then what he was saying got through her fatigue.
“They see a wall! There is a wall ahead!”
Chapter 17
Gutrune half pulled, half dragged Ardhuin into the break in the wall the guides had found. It provided enough of a shield that with Ardhuin’s magic, they could see other shapes in the cloudy air, shapes with the unmistakable look of buildings. Most of the ones they checked at first were either half–filled with sand or collapsed debris, or roofless. But as they kept going, the buildings were less damaged—and eventually they came
across a large one that was mostly intact. There was even room for the animals.
“Do we stop here?” gasped Ardhuin. She staggered and braced herself against a wall. “Dominic…where is Dominic?”
“Over here.” Marcus gave a hacking cough. “He’s not making sense. Watch out; there’s a hole in the floor. Here, I’ll make some light.”
The pale blue ball of magefire flared up. Dominic made a strange whimpering noise, like a stifled scream, and Ardhuin’s head snapped up.
“Move away from him. Now!”
Markus stared at her and stepped closer to the door. Dominic stopped writhing and looked about with an air of delighted wonder.
“So beautiful…” he whispered. “Where are you?”
Gutrune felt the hair on her neck rise. Something was, indeed, very odd about him. And Ardhuin, even more oddly, made no move to go to him even as tears left muddy tracks down her dust–covered face.
“What’s wrong with him?” Gutrune whispered.
“The ley line overexposed him to magic. Any magic now, however slight, will cause him great pain.” Ardhuin’s voice was thick with tears, her hands clenching. “He wanted to be useful.”
Dominic turned his head as if searching. Even though Ardhuin was in shadow, as soon as he looked her way, an expression of pure joy suffused his face.
“Oh, there you are. I was afraid I had lost you.”
“No, you haven’t lost me. You will never lose me.” Still she made no move, although it seemed every muscle was taut.
“What is it?” Gutrune spoke softly in her ear. “Why do you not comfort him when he is so distressed?”
Ardhuin swallowed hard. “In this state, he is…not quite rational. He won’t notice anyone else. Please—” Her voice broke. “I ask so much. I know you must be as tired as I am, but if it were not for Dominic we would never have made it here safely. We need…he needs to be alone. As far from everyone else as possible.”
“Then I and my magefire will go find a place distant but secure, and you can arrange more conventional lighting.” Markus turned and ran off.
“You are far away again,” Dominic told Ardhuin reproachfully. He was trying to walk through a fallen stone block and appeared quite puzzled why he could not.
“I know, love. Just a moment longer.”
The raw pain in her voice spurred Gutrune to action. Sonam had already understood the problem and explained it to the guides. One of them gathered scraps of bone–dry wood and started a fire. The other was making rough torches with wood, the torn cloth they had used as masks, and some fat saved from the gazelle kill. It smelled horrible, but it gave off enough light to see the room they were in.
“Success,” Markus gasped, running back. “That is, if you don’t mind a bit of climbing. Part of the ceiling collapsed. There’s even a door, of sorts.”
“Dominic. Dominic, let’s go.” Ardhuin stood next to him, but when he didn’t respond she gingerly put a hand on his arm.
The effect was electric. His head snapped up, and he made a sound between a moan and a cry. He wrapped his arms around Ardhuin tightly and buried his face in the crook of her neck, tugging at her collar with his fingers.
“Too far away…”
Markus was staring at them with wide eyes. “I’m thinking we’d better move quickly, then. You have light, good. Bring their bedrolls and some water,” he said, pointing at Gutrune. “Anything else you need?”
“Spirits, if we have any. It…mitigates thaumatic shock.” Ardhuin slipped one arm free and turned, pulling Dominic to follow Markus.
Did they have any? It wasn’t something she had brought. But as she gathered up the bedrolls Stoller handed her a flask. “Schnapps. I’d say warn them but from the look of him he won’t even notice.”
Gutrune jogged to catch up, following the glow of the torch ahead. The stonework here was in much better shape than the exterior, but she still had to watch her footing. Dust fell through the hole in the ceiling, and she could barely make out the sky in the gap. The sun must be going down, then. They had indeed reached their shelter just in time.
Markus passed several openings in the wall until stopping before one that still had fragments of a wood frame in the doorway.
“Here. I think it will serve—and while the door is no longer attached, it can be propped up as a temporary measure.”
Ardhuin was too exhausted to speak and merely nodded as she went inside. Dominic was murmuring insistently, oblivious to his surroundings. Markus took the gear Gutrune held, placed it inside, and wrestled the old door over the opening.
“And just in time too.” He wiped his forehead, stuck the torch in a crack in the wall, and turned to leave.
Gutrune frowned, at a loss. It did not seem right to leave them there alone, but she was not sure what would be of assistance. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she called, only to find a firm hand grasping her elbow and pulling her down the stone hallway.
“I know you have the best intentions, but I strongly suspect we would only be very much in the way right now.” He summoned magefire, and it revealed a tired and worried expression. “Recall that this exposure, or something similar, happened to him before. If Frau Kermarec says isolation is best, even in our current circumstances, she must speak from experience.”
Her temper flared. “I can’t simply walk away when my friend is in grave distress, when her husband is terribly ill in the middle of a desert with no help for hundreds of miles!”
“It is not abandoning them to do as she asks. I know you would do anything to help her now—I feel I owe Herr Kermarec myself for…well, for not understanding his situation. But we all agreed to undertake this task, dangerous as it is, for equally important reasons.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “It is never easy to see those you care for put themselves in danger—but sometimes there is no choice. The best we can do, I suppose,” he said slowly, “is to see their effort is not wasted.”
Gutrune felt her anger fade, replaced by even greater fatigue. It was suddenly hard to think, even though she felt she must. Something Markus had said…was important. Something she needed to understand, something potentially dangerous. A thought surfaced, only to disappear before she could grasp it fully, and the fragment made no sense. Markus was dangerous?
She shook her head. She was too tired. Markus was watching her with concern, and she did not want to discuss anything further with her thoughts in such confusion. She forced herself to turn away. She would rest and then if Ardhuin needed her she would be ready.
The fourth time a camel kicked him awake Markus gave up and took his bedroll into the stone hall. He ought to have been so tired he would sleep through it—and perhaps he had, other times—but now the camels were getting restive and noisy, making it difficult to fall asleep again. And even when they were quiet, they still stank.
He’d thought all he truly wanted was to be out of the storm to be comfortable, but no. Sonam had passed on the information that two of the water bags had leaked and were now completely empty, and the guides were afraid because they had no idea where they were, and thus could not find the water sources they knew about. Plus something about ghosts, but the guides were apparently more afraid of the storm than the ghosts. They did pray a lot and had asked for protective spells. It appeared they thought anything connected to Ardhuin was a good defense, as Markus found her discarded jacket carefully folded and placed across the threshold. Markus had also allowed them to think the magefire was protective, so now he had to keep one going at all times.
He drifted off to sleep, despite the chill and the hard stone floor, and only woke when he heard footsteps coming from the far end of the hall. There was enough daylight now he could just make out Ardhuin, her long red hair in a loose braid, disheveled and drooping with weariness.
Markus was alert instantly. “How is he?”
She sighed. “Better. I think the schnapps helped…but he can’t be moved. Not yet.”
“No fear of that. The storm shows no sign of letting up, and I am told these things can last up to a week. Sonam is of the opinion this will have a shorter duration, fortunately.”
“Is everything all right?” Gutrune had emerged from the main room, rubbing her eyes.
“I wanted to get some food while Dominic is sleeping.”
Gutrune gave Ardhuin a critical look. “I suggest that you are in need of rest yourself—you do not look well. Let us bring what you need. I apologize for not thinking of it last night, but I also have a lantern. If you must still avoid magic near him…”
Ardhuin gave a tired smile. “Thank you. Yes, that will be useful.” She handed over the canteen she was carrying and turned back.
Markus tossed the canteen in one hand. “Well, this could be awkward. Herr Kermarec is most definitely in need of water, being ill, but there is not much water for anyone at the moment.”
Gutrune nodded but seemed abstracted. He knew she was not attending when she also nodded to his joking suggestion that they go through their supplies to see if a bottle of wine had gotten packed by mistake.
Sonam was standing by the door, looking outside. He had taken up the task of casting a wind shield at the entrance so they could leave it uncovered for light and air, which, with all the horses and camels, was increasingly necessary. Fragrant only began to describe it.
“How much water can we spare for the sick?” Markus asked.
“The Guardian…I hear her say, alcohol helps the sickness?” Sonam said, with a bit of translation assistance from Gutrune. “The guides just now have told me, they have brought qui–me. It is made from milk, fermented. This can be used instead of water, perhaps?”
“If they are willing to share, it is worth the attempt. I shall make a note on the next adventure to be sure to bring an adequate supply of brandy, but I did not realize it was so crucial.” Even this attempt at humor was not noticed, and he felt his good spirits diminish. What ailed her? Well, aside from narrowly escaping death in a desert sandstorm, that is, but they were alive at the moment, were they not? Matters were not yet desperate.
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