Page 25 of Blood of the Sands

“I am an exile,” I explained, my voice tremulous, but it did not break.

“And why were you exiled?”

I furrowed my brow. “You saw…”

“I saw that the desert’s magic runs strong in you, and you have not learned to control it properly.”

I shook my head. “The desert does not favor me.”

The queen raised an eyebrow. “And how long did you survive as an exile?”

“Since I was fifteen,” I admitted. With no way to keep track of time at my oasis, I didn’t know exactly how long I had lingered on in isolation, but I knew it had been many years.

“It would seem to me that the desert would have to favor you for you to survive the elements on your own for nearly a decade,” the queen observed.

“Whatever magic flows in me has cursed me,” I insisted.

“How?”

I shifted from foot to foot, knowing I couldn’t escape answering but hoping the guards would come in and drag me away to spare me the pain.

“Sit and tell me how you came to be an exile.” The queen gestured to an ottoman beside me. Her tone was gentle but held a hint of command that could not be ignored.

I arranged myself on the seat, pulling the purple silk around me to give me a moment to call the memories to mind, as if they weren’t simply hidden under a thin layer of denial to keep me from looking at them too closely. I had cultivated that denial, both afraid of and exhausted by the anger that bubbled up in me every time I remembered the reason for my seclusion.

“When I was thirteen, and my first blood came, my father took me to the horse master to pick my first horse.”

The queen nodded, indicating she understood this custom of the clans.

“Her name was Farran, and she was nearly wild still, but I loved her. The horse master of Clan Padra said she would be too difficult for a young girl like me, but Farren warmed to me, and I wanted no other. She was so fast, we would gallop across the sands free enough that I could leave even my own thoughts behind.”

I swallowed thickly. I hadn’t meant to share these details, but I hadn’t had the chance to speak of Farran in years. The images of her rich brown coat and the proud arch of her neck sprang forth unbidden.

“Two years later, I rode to hunt a herd of oryx. We weren’t the only hunters out for meat that day, and we got into a skirmish with a mother caracal and her cubs. Farran was wounded, her leg broken, before I managed to drive off the caracal. I helped her limp all the way to the encampment—back to the horse master, begging him to help her.”

I had to take a few shaky breaths before continuing.

“He said he would help me. Before I could stop him, he had drawn his blade and driven it into her skull. He said it was a mercy, that she never would have recovered. But something happened in me the moment I heard her dying scream. It was like my body couldn’t contain me anymore, and the whole world began to shake. I don’t remember most of it, but everybody said the ground before my feet cracked open, creating a huge crater that engulfed the horse master and several other tents. When I came back to awareness and saw what I had done, I couldn’t believe it.

“The clan lord declared my sentence to be exile for murder, saying it was unsafe to have me camp in the clan. I begged and screamed for my parents to do something, to talk to her, but they only looked at me with the same fear as everybody else. The next morning, the clan rode away, leaving me behind with no horse.”

My voice trailed off, and I stared down at my hands where they fisted the amethyst silks in my lap. I relaxed my fingers with great effort, not wanting to crumple Neven’s fine work.

“The story of my grandfather doesn’t end with the building of Kelvadan.” The queen broke the silence.

I glanced up in surprise. I had expected horror or instant calls for me to be thrown from the city. Instead, she cocked her head pensively, a lose silver curl escaping her elaborate twist to brush against her neck.

“We normally only tell the first part, as everybody loves a happy ending. But the immense power Kelvar carried didn’t come without a cost. He was prone to fits of rage and often fell to distraction. Still, for one hundred years, he and Queen Alyx ruled Kelvadan, granted long life by the favor of the desert. Eventually though, time came for Alyx, as it does for us all.

“With Alyx gone, Kelvar fell into a fit that he didn’t come out of. He shouted in argument with imagined voices and lashed out at those around him as if he didn’t recognize them. Soon, he left the city, and although his children tried to stop him, he was still too powerful for any to stand against. He took his horse and wandered out into the sands, never to be seen again.”

I blinked rapidly, the tragedy of Kelvar’s demise pulling at a thread inside my heart.

“The desert’s magic is a difficult gift. My family knows that better than most,” the queen continued. “If you carry it too, then perhaps we can help you control it.”

“Why would you do that when you could just as easily send me away?” I asked. Part of me wanted to clap my hand over my mouth and keep myself from dissuading the queen from letting me stay. The other part of my mind could only see a dark chasm splitting the earth before my feet and the horrified faces of my parents. I would never forgive myself if I damaged the city of Kelvadan, the greatest monument to peace and love.

“My lineage has failed to help those burdened by the desert’s gifts before. Perhaps you are an opportunity to set things right.” The queen’s eyes shone overbright in the flickering torchlight. “Besides, if war with the clans is coming, I would prefer to have you on our side. I’m sure Aderyn would love to have you train as one of the Kelvadan riders. Only my guards and I saw you lose control.”