But before he could wonder further, there was a blur in his fading vision. Something lay in the shadows just behind where the creature knelt over him, like a wild dog hunched over its kill. It was small and white and darkly wet, and it regarded him with huge black eyes.
A bloody lamb.
“Not yet,”the lamb whispered in his mind.“Not yet.”
Karim’s eyes fluttered, and the vision vanished.
The creature’s hand was on Karim’s chest, its fingers digging into his flesh. But with its concentration no longer on strangling him, the grip on his throat loosened enough for Karim to get a little air, a little strength. Where the lamb had been, he spotted a single smoldering ember, just within reach. He grabbed it, ignoring the searing pain in his hand, and pushed it straight into the creature’s face.
The mummified skin around the ember hissed as it burned away, and the creature let out an earsplitting howl. Releasing its hold on Karim’s throat, it rose up, scrabbling at the smoking hole in its face.
Wasting no time, Karim got to his feet and, with a guttural cry, charged at the creature. He struck it with his shoulder and wrapped his arms about its waist as he drove it back, back, until they both fell.
They never hit the ground.
There was a dry, splintering sound, and Karim felt something sharp nearly drive up into his belly. Nimbly, he twisted his body, rolling off the creature and onto the sand below. The impact drove the little breath he had left straight from his lungs, but he didn’t stay down. Jumping back up, he squared his shoulders, anticipating another attack. But none came.
He’d impaled the creature on the broken stump of the tamarisk tree. The thick, jagged blade of wood cut a gaping hole through its body and reached, bloodless, to the night sky. The ember had burned away half of the remaining skin on the monster’s face, exposing naked bone and charred sinew beneath. Karim stared, agog and gasping, into the deafening silence of the desert. He kept his distance, waiting for the figure to rise up and come for him again.
Minutes passed, and still Karim waited. He coughed, spitting bile, which lit his bruised throat on fire. But still the creature didn’t move. Shuffling a little closer, Karim kicked once, twice, driving it farther onto the spike of wood.
Nothing.
Karim allowed himself a whimper of relief. He stumbled over to Behkai, who lay in a pool of starlight. The dog hadn’t moved since the monster had kicked him.
Karim looked down at the animal’s body and sniffed, wipingat his eyes.
“Curse you,” he said, his voice thick. “Why did you have to attack it? Stupid, fool dog.”
Without Behkai there to help lift it, the silence was too heavy.
Karim dropped to his knees and laid a hand on Behkai’s chest.
It rose and fell.
Karim’s heart soared. “Hey! Hey! Are you alive?” He bent low, pulling the dog’s face toward him and rubbing it vigorously. “Come on, sen, stay with me. Stay with me, you fool dog!”
A long, long moment passed.
Then Behkai’s eyes dragged open. He blinked, and licked Karim on the mouth.
“Ugh,” Karim sputtered, “Disgusting.” Behkai’s tail wagged weakly, and Karim rubbed him behind the ears. “Good boy,” he whispered.
Behkai attempted to rise to his feet but whined with the movement and lay back down.
“Stay,” Karim told him, holding up a hand.
With effort, he gathered the big dog into his arms. He carried him back to the skiff, Behkai’s long legs sticking comically into the air. After getting the dog settled on a blanket, he ran back to gather the rest of the supplies, and then pulled anchor, pushing back onto the gentle current of the river.
It was only then, once they’d left that cursed bit of desert behind them, that Karim allowed himself to feel the pain and exhaustion that had been waiting on the other side of terror. His body felt numb and heavy. He slid down to the floor of the skiff alongside the dog. Behkai was already asleep, his warm, silken body a comfort against the brisk night air.
Karim closed his eyes, subconsciously pressing his cheek against the back of Behkai’s great black head, grateful both to be alive and not alone.
***
A sound woke him, or rather, a thousand sounds.
The sun had been up for hours by the time Karim opened his eyes. Blinking into the glare of day, he rose to find an astonishing sight. Instead of the emptiness of the Red Lands, the rolling fields of farmland, or the vast Khetaran temple complexes he’d been accustomed to seeing from the river, the skiff was approaching a city on the east bank. A city so huge, so spectacular, and sowhite, that he thought that he was still dreaming. He’d floated past other towns and villages on his journey, but none that rivaled this one.
