Chapter 31: Lovely, I Don't Have Enough Water

And of course, the only map I had of the East showed only public transport routes. No way was I taking public transport. Not after what had happened tonight. Not that I was familiar with how to use it, living by only the simplest and speediest of cars in Kaleveh. I could only wonder why my presence wasn't welcome in Laverrene. I could only wander through the isolated roads, wondering. Wondering about what my life had become. I told myself I wasn't special. But enough had happened to start to make me turn from that belief.

Don't be reckless. Be smart, my father had said once.

Smart. Right. Well, I knew I had to get to Orinm one way or another. I had to find a child of the water. I had to pull through on my promise to the Stormbringer, and not forget the dwarves, waiting for centuries to be rid of their curse. I could not imagine waiting in agony for so long. Seeing the heroes they'd bestowed rich gifts upon wither and die. See the world change, yet be stuck under the earth until someone freed them. I could not imagine feeling skin wrinkle endlessly under my fingers until one day, my body turned to dust. Perhaps with my eternal soul still frozen. Unable to move on.

I shook the dwarven king from my mind. The impatient longing in his eyes reminded me too much of the few homeless people in the shelters in Kaleveh. All those people I had not been able to help.

East I would go, through the Nogard Desert.

A wide, sand-blasted bit of land that unleashed freezing colds upon the travellers passing through it in winter, scorching temperatures and hellish sand-storms in summer.

There was no other choice. I'd get through Orinm, then, finally, I'd be there. In the Calbron Mountains, where I'd have to dodge the demons that dwelled there as well as navigating through the thick woodland to the magical shelter.

Perhaps I would walk in the night and sleep in the day in the desert. That was likely the best option.

So I walked. And even as the sun arose and cast its welcoming glow over the world, I kept walking.

I had left Laverrene's eastern borders two hours ago, and now I traced the path of the Gryster Highway through endless green plains of cattle and crop. The cities had to end somewhere—and they did, gradually giving way to pine forests and lush hillsides with tiny towns separating miles of farmland. At each one of the small settlements, I dug my cloak out of the bottom of my bag, threw it over my black hair and freckled cocoa skin, grabbed something warm to eat, and ducked out. I never stayed long, fearing the residents of the villages would grow on me. There was one town where I had to replenish my unperishable food. Aquanaya had done something to the backpack so I could carry the books without feeling like I was carrying a mountain on my back with every step, but I still needed supplies. Batteries for my watch. A girl, younger than me and with slightly darker skin, smiled faintly at me as I handed the money over.

I was grateful for the fresh air and the miles of miles of empty farmland, but it meant I was all along with only my thoughts to keep me distracted. My thoughts weren't exactly polite guests.

So, for days, muscles aching by the time I reached the Nogard Desert, I walked, I thought, I ate, I slept, and generally stayed alive. And repeat. The hours passed without anything even remotely interesting happening. It seemed even demons were not willing to brave the sheer temperatures in the Nogard. I think I might've become a zombie by the time I reached the desert.

There was no sign, no indication that I'd finally reached it. The cool spring weather and dew-flecked grass did not cease to exist once I crossed some magical line. The changes were gradual; when gravel roads became mixed with dust, when the towns made themselves scarce. Then the rich carpets of vegetation and moss-speckled rocks turned to sand beneath my feet, the clouds disappeared and replaced themselves with limitless blue sky overhead and the rolling hills turned into great dunes of undulating topaz. Morning dew settled on my forehead, which was soon replaced by beads of sweat.

All I had to wear were the clothes on my back and a few spare shirts and changes of underwear in my bag. I certainly didn't have any thin, breathable clothes suitable for hiking across the desert. There was no shade. So I trekked by night where the air was reasonably cool, and in the day when the sun plastered my clothes to my body and made my head hot enough to fry an egg on, I covered myself in my cloak and slept at the bases of sand dunes.

Just a few more days, I told myself.

A few more days of tiptoeing over pins and needles, a few more days of being on tenterhooks even during the day when I should've been sleeping, half scared a demon would reveal itself from behind a sand dune and kill me where no one would ever find my body. Where what was left of it would decompose and be buried under the sand. A little less than a fortnight of stewing in my own thoughts, of trudging slowly, step-by-step along the mammoth sand dunes that stretched everlastingly into the horizon.

A few more days. That's nothing. You'll be fine, I tried to convince myself.

It was fine, at least for the first day or so, even if I was nearly woozy with dehydration. Or so I thought.

The sand dune to the side of me swirled suddenly, the sand ruffling with ripples of movement. Looking around in confusion, I found no reason for it to be moving. Then suddenly the sand formed itself into a point and reared up, looking down at me like a periscope. The sand studied me for a second (gods, what in the world—) before settling down. Perturbed, I started forward, only to be stopped by a probing arm of sand, as if it were desert security. I reached forward to grab a handful of the sand, but before I could observe it better in the hazy light of dusk, it would slip through my fingers. I tried to go the other way, sidling past the dune, but it pushed me back.

I scratched my neck impatiently, brow furrowing. I tried to walk sideways out of reach, but the whole line of golden hills was the same. Each one inspected me in the same way as the first, so when I went side to side, the dunes moved in sync like a beach wave given a brain. It was funny at first, watching the sand pop up and down. But soon I became restless. I needed to keep moving.

I tried again, plunging forward with determination. I thought, hey, it's just sand. It can't hurt me, right?

Boy, was I wrong. The sand came at me from all directions, filling my eyes. My skin felt like it was peeling off. Also, sand in shoes is really annoying.

I stumbled back with a sigh, rubbing my eyes.

This sand wasn't going to let me pass. I was dazed and confused, addled from the heat.

Can I climb it?

Eh.

Could I climb it? I set foot on the sand, cautiously making my way forward, waiting for the sand to gobble me up, or at the very least, send me tumbling back down. Nothing happened, and I quickened my pace, excited—but as soon as I looked over the other side, I was ejected back down the dune.

But not before I glimpsed a pair of luminous, cat-like eyes, glinting from within. Eyes lustrous yellow—with slits for pupils.

Glowing through the layers of sand like twin beacons.

Heart pounding, I pushed away the sand, digging deep into the dune itself. The sun-kissed grains parted easily, forming a tunnel. Nothing happened this time. As if whatever was inside was biding its time—waiting.

The thing inside showed off its neat rows of teeth, gleaming white but pockmarked with black spots of rot. I spotted two minuscule slits for a nose and a wild mane of gold tangled with sand. Then it retreated, so once again I could only see the yellow torches that were its eyes.

"Chandani Zarramere. So you have come, child," it gurgled, sounding like it was underwater. "Why?"

"Let's skip the questions, shall we. If you know my name, then certainly you must know why I need to get across." I huffed. Perhaps not the smartest thing to say to something that controlled the sand. My attention flickered when the creature didn't immediately answer, mind wandering to the elaborate walls of the sand passageway. Magic was alive everywhere. Even in the delicate sculpting of the inside of a sand dune buried amongst others in an endless desert.

A vicious growl sounded from ahead, making the sand vibrate. The sand fell away, revealing a creature like a sphinx from Lydaea, an isolated country on the eastern edge of Gidrkae—except opposite, if you get what I mean. A fine layer of tan fur had sprouted from its cheeks, whiskers twitching. Hidden behind the mane, fanned out like an ancient ruff collar, was a vaguely human body covered in masculine hairs. Clawed paws that could've struck me down with one motion supported its torso, while the tense thighs of a runner crouched under human hips. But where a person's body should've stopped at the, ahem, bottom, three lightning—fast whips of patterned, reptilian skin lashed the ground, hissing at each other. And there was more. A shadow fell over me, and I looked up to see skeletal wings connected by thin layers of grey membrane, ending in sharp points coated with a sickly green substance. They flapped slowly from the sphinx's back, a promise of death. I didn't want to find out if those points were poisoned or not.

Absolutely wonderful. Now I was trapped in the desert, facing off against a lion-bat-snake. I couldn't forget that it was human too. Very helpful.

A sudden click rang through the musty air. I turned to see lethal black teeth, each as long as my finger, slide out like a garage door from its gums, descending towards…towards a forked tongue, red as blood, that flicked in and out of a flat maw.

The sphinx roared. And charged.

A voice swirled through the air, though I didn't see the sphinx open its mouth. "Your road is forbidden. We say you must be stopped."

"Who else? The Branokann? Too bad he's dead." I spat.

"It is his death you will pay for. He was one of us. And we say you will not pass."

The moment of relative diplomacy passed, and topaz paws bounded towards me. The sand dune had blasted me back when it'd crumbled, leaving me defenceless, lying in the sand.

Left, or right? Right, or left? The sand would stop me either way. That sounded stupid. But there was always a third option, always…

I made my decision just as I saw coal-black canines hanging over my face, poised to rip into my flesh.

Drawing my dagger, I closed my eyes in prayer (not that the gods would likely bother to help. Still, I had to try), and slashed upwards, my powers rendered useless in the heat of the scuffle. Two seconds before my cheeks were ripped into, the sphinx darted backwards.

But too late. My heart raced madly, yelling shrilly, as the tip of my knife split open the skin of its chest, spitting a line of liquid silver. In the lazy heat of the desert dusk, it immediately oxidised into black, black blood like the Branokann's. A howl of anger filled my ears, deafening over the beat of my pounding heart, and the sphinx teetered backwards on unsteady human legs.

I scrambled forward, but the snake-tails whipped to the side. Crying out, I rolled to the side, flailing with my dagger, hoping to land a blow, but the triple tails were faster. Darting forward, the middle one hissed, spraying my arm with a clear substance. At first, I thought it was water, or snake saliva or whatever.

But I slumped to the ground, limbs locked.

Then the pain began, ricocheting up and down my left arm, creeping up to my collarbones. The snake's blurry hood blurred in my vision as I held my arm, tears springing to my eyes. I cried out as the snake darted forward, sinking pearly white fangs deep in my shoulder.

Flesh tore as I turned onto my side away from the sphinx's tails, and the great teeth left gouges the size of raisins in my arm. The pain multiplied, shooting up and down the length of my upper arms, like bullets swimming in my veins. If my arm had once been a mobile, soft wheel of brie, it was now a holey slice of swiss cheese. I shrieked mindlessly, the agony taking over as the sphinx advanced. I blanked in and out of consciousness, left side of my body on fire, the sand clinging to my sweat-soaked skin—turning pallid and feverish by the second. My arm twitched uncontrollably; the rest of my body numb. It felt like my soul was beating split from my body, afloat somewhere in a burning wreckage. I couldn't reach my pack, or the kraken tear inside.

This was worse than feeling my leg shatter against rock. This was worse than the awakening of my Gifts. This was worse than leaving anything behind.

The sphinx flew upwards, a shadow hovering in front of the steadily setting sun.

I decided it would be the last thing I ever saw. Not my flesh smoking as the poison ripped its way towards my heart. Not the open jaws of the sphinx's lion head as it flew to claim my life. But the sun. One last sunset.

I looked up, to where night was stealing over the horizon. A single diamond was strung from the sky.

I could see the stars.