“Roa!”
Something whistled past her head. Roa smelled the burning before she saw the streak of fire.
A flaming arrow soared toward the dragons, missing them only by a breath. Roa glanced over her shoulder to see Lirabel, now at Jas’s side, lighting her next arrow in the cook’s fire and drawing it back across her bow.
“Roa, run!”
Roa stumbled back, away from the dragons.
Lirabel’s arrows continued to fly. But a few arrows couldn’t kill a dragon. And dragons became even more aggressive when injured. So Lirabel was missing intentionally, her flaming arrows landing at their feet, trying to frighten them.
Where’s Asha when you need her?Roa thought.
Dax’s sister had a way with dragons.
If only Dax were half as useful...
But when Roa cast her gaze around the tents, Dax was nowhere to be found.
When Lirabel’s fourth arrow flew, the pale gold dragon paused. Jas’s clanging stopped. Roa watched it arch its serpentine neck, looking back in the direction it came from, sensing something Roa’s eyes couldn’t see. It clicked to its companion, and then—as if deciding this fight wasn’t worth the trouble—it beat its wings, preparing to fly. The second followed its lead.
Sand billowed up, flying into Roa’s face, scratching her skin. She turned away, shutting her eyes and holding her breath.
As both dragons launched themselves into the air, she felt shadows of cold creep over her. She watched the hulking forms block out the sun. Felt the power of their massive wings beating the wind into her face.
When the sand stopped scathing, she opened her eyes, looking skyward.
The silhouettes of both dragons flew east.
Good riddance,she thought, even as she stood in awe of their terrifying beauty.
But as she turned to find Lirabel, the camp before her blurred gold. The dragons were gone, but a wind had picked up, and the sand billowed once more, making it difficult to see the tents.
Roa squinted through the sand. She caught sight of Lirabel, who stood staring in the direction opposite the dragons. She lowered her bow, eyes widening. At the same time, Jas dropped his pot and spoon.
“Tie down the horses!” he yelled to the guards, his voice battling the wind. “Tie down everything!”
Roa turned. Sand whipped through the air, obscuring her vision. As the wind screamed in her ears, goose bumps erupted across her skin.
This far out in the desert, screaming winds meant only one thing.
Sandstorm.
She raised her arm to shield her eyes.
There, in the distance, a wall of red-gold sand was rumbling and rising, coming straight for the camp.
Five
With Lirabel shouting orders, Roa ran back to Dax’s tent and darted inside. Sand coated her teeth. Grit burned in her eyes. Grabbing his scarlet sandskarf, she wrapped it tight around her head, pulling it snug over her nose and mouth. Next she grabbed his mantle, pulled it on, and darted out again.
Chaos greeted her. The sun glinted off the guards’ steel sabers as they buzzed like bees in a disrupted nest, scrambling to secure the caravan.
But these tents weren’t sturdy enough to withstand a storm. Those pegs would fly out of the ground as easily as a needle pushed free of cloth.
Why had Dax not done as he promised? And why had no one consulted her or Lirabel or Jas—the ones who intimately knew the sand sea and its dangers?
Roa was about to whistle for Essie, except Essie wasn’t here. The sharp pain of it sliced Roa anew.
