Page 11 of Blood of the Sands

“It is not just a matter of invading Kelvadan, although that will certainly come,” Lord Alasdar explained, stopping at the edge of one of the many horse enclosures. Alza ambled toward the fence from where she had been munching from a trough. “It is an issue of survival. These disasters will only get worse. Storms, disease, bad hunting. There is a strength to be had in numbers if we are to endure long enough to obtain our goal.”

I reached out to Alza, letting her snuffle into my hand in favor of responding. Yesterday I had been anxious to leave, but now something urged me to stay. Maybe the thought of a woman riding off into the night who might come back. I shook the vision of her defiant gaze from my head, although it seemed intent on returning. The clash of swords had given me a brief reprieve from her image, but now my more idle brain brought her back.

“That storm last night was far from natural. The desert is so angry, it almost seems like she would turn her magic against us,” Lord Alasdar murmured, quietly enough that passing clansmen would not overhear.

I thanked my mask for keeping my expression hidden when my face spasmed. However, Lord Alasdar would know my thoughts all too well despite not being able to see my face. While the magic of the desert that pooled within me made it easy for me to manipulate the environment around me, Lord Alasdar’s gift focused easily on the magical energy of those around him. Especially on somebody with emotions as loud as mine. As much as Lord Alasdar tried to help me keep them in check, they always bubbled to the surface.

I had told him of the storms that accosted the desert when I lost my temper as a child—I’d run scared into the dunes as the lightning turned sand into glass around me, and I howled at the sky in confusion. While it had been many years since those days, the smell of magic in the air had assaulted me with memories last night.

When the first bolt of lightning struck, I almost thought I had been the one to summon it, but it didn’t come with the spine-tingling awareness of the desert spread around me. I had pushed that awareness into the depths of my soul for a decade now, fighting a losing battle against being swallowed whole by that immense force. Before the storm, I had been too busy falling into the gravity of two dark eyes full of flickering firelight to dredge up that power.

“It is a shame the sacrifice escaped. Maybe her blood would have been enough to slake the desert and assuage the storm,” I commented without feeling. After all, so many believed that the desert was angry simply because the unprecedented peace brought by Kelvadan deprived her of the blood she demanded.

“Or perhaps the storm interrupted the sacrifice as a sign that it will not be appeased by half measures,” Lord Alasdar speculated, watching me intently, as if he could see the truth in my movements.

“I will leave for Clan Tibel in the morning.”

I set out before the sun, riding in the opposite direction Keera had the night she escaped. I briefly wondered where she had gone, and if she had made it there, before turning my eyes to Alza’s ears in front of me. One was unlikely to survive very long in the wilderness with no supplies, and I found myself loathe to envision the grizzly end Keera would have met dying of exposure or thirst. Driving my saber into her throat would have saved her from suffering, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t done it.

Alza snorted, drawing my attention back to her. I patted her neck in reassurance. Normally even-tempered, even in the face of violence, she seemed skittish this morning. Perhaps the unnatural storm had spooked her.

At midday, I pulled her to a stop near a formation of rust-colored rocks, ready to take shelter in the shade for the hottest hour of the day. As I dismounted and walked toward a pile of boulders, she pawed at the sand, making it rise in small puffs around her forelegs. She didn’t follow me. I whistled for her, but Alza wouldn’t budge. I hadn’t put her on a lead rope since she was a foal, used to her following my direction without need for any tack or bridle, but now she acted like a willful colt, freshly caught from one of the roaming herds of the desert.

I was stomping toward her in annoyance when I caught the smell in the air. The earthy scent of magic, like the morning after a rare rain shower, had me on alert. I looked up just in time to see the source of the vibrating growl emanating from the rocks above me.

A ball of black fur leaped through the air, landing on Alza’s back. She screamed in pain, bucking as claws dug into her flesh, the attacking creature hissing and spitting in fury. My dirk flew into my hand as I lunged forward, trying to draw the creature’s attention without harming Alza.

My closed fist connected with silky fur as I just managed to skim the creature’s flank. It rounded on me, fixing me with glowing purple eyes. The sight stunned me enough that I barely had time to raise my dirk in defense before the cat-like animal pounced.

Claws slashed at my face, skittering across my mask with a nasty metallic screech. I let the momentum of the attack take me to the ground on my back, curling my legs into me before pushing them out, launching the creature over my head at the rock wall behind me.

It yelped as it hit the boulders with a crunch, but we both sprang to our feet, seemingly uninjured. I reached over my shoulder with my offhand, knowing my saber would give me the reach I needed to keep those claws and savage teeth at arm’s length.

The animal pounced again before I could fully draw my blade, but Alza leaped in the way, lashing out with powerful hooves. One caught the creature in the chest, knocking it back, but not before it viciously slashed her leg. Alza collapsed with a scream, foreleg buckling beneath her.

A growl tore from my throat, and I lunged forward, blade in each hand, to where the creature lay, belly up from my horse’s attack. Before it could right itself, I plunged my saber deep into the white spot in the center of its chest.

The metallic sent of blood joined the earthy magic in the air as the beast shuddered. It whined once before going still. The glowing light faded from its striking purple eyes, still open and staringly lifelessly at the sky.

I stared at the creature now that it was still, not having had a chance to take it in while it attacked. It was somewhere between a cat and dog in shape, its fur all black except for the white circle in the middle of its chest. It was the aura of magic I sensed, like an impending storm oozing off the body more than anything that convinced me of what I saw. I had killed a Sichat, a creature of legend said to steal the souls of the dead. As far as I knew, nobody had seen one since before the desert had been crossed. They had disappeared, along with all the other magical beasts, when the Heart of the Desert had been conquered by our ancestors who journeyed across desert to the ocean for the first time. Now, the desert was unbalanced, and the creatures rose once more.

A distressed whinny behind me tore my focus from the mythical creature. Alza struggled to get to her feet, injured foreleg straining to hold her weight. I rushed to my knees at her side, shushing her with a hand on her flank. She stopped trying to stand, but her muscles shook with tension beneath my palm.

Bending close, I examined the wound. Four slashes ran horizontally across the side of her leg, just below the knee, where the Sichat’s claws had torn her flesh. While the wounds were jagged, they didn’t appear to be deep. Her tendons would be unharmed.

I huffed in relief as well as disappointment. Alza would recover, but I wouldn’t risk her traveling for the rest of the day. I didn’t relish delaying our trip, as I hadn’t packed supplies for a longer solo mission. Lord Alasdar would certainly find a way to make me pay for not completing my task efficiently as well.

Alza’s eyes rolled in her head, and I grit my teeth, mind made up. I urged her to her feet. She favored her injured leg, but managed to stand. I untied the small number of packs from her back, slinging those over my shoulders instead.

Slowly, we walked along the edge of the cliff face in search of a shelter for the night. Alza didn’t complain, but I kept my hand on her neck, the trembling beneath her skin giving away her pain. Luckily, we happened across a break in the cliff face after a short walk. Leaving Alza outside, I pushed inside, blade drawn in caution.

The bones of dead animals littered the corners of the cave within, marking it as the lair of a predator, but it was currently unoccupied. I sensed I had recently killed the creature who had been living here. If not, I was confident that I was a more deadly predator than any that might return to their shelter.

I beckoned Alza inside after me, and she followed obediently. It took very little urging to get her to lay down on one side of the cave. While she rested, I busied myself with setting up a camp for the night, starting with building a fire near the entrance. I stoked it as hot as I could, sweating beneath my hood and vest.

Once the flames glowed blue where they licked the dry brush I used for kindling, I drew my dirk. I thrust it into the flames and held it there until the length glowed red. Turning to Alza with the heated blade before me, I approached quickly, not giving her the chance to panic. The whites of her eyes showed, but she stayed still until I pressed the flat of the blade against her torn flesh.

She bucked against me, but I laid my weight against her haunch as the fire did its work, stopping the bleeding and clearing any infection. As she fought me, I was only glad she did not have to inflict this process on herself as I had in the past.