Page 1 of Crown of the Dunes

Prologue

Erix

The desert screamed. Her voice in my mind was a constant whisper, connecting me to the vibrating web of life and death that stretched across my homeland. She had demanded many things from me: blood, pain, patience. Now, that voice threatened to shred my sanity.

The knot of magic at the base of my skull shuddered and I with it. The desert was missing her Heart, and she threatened to tear apart all creation if it was not returned. We had that in common.

The desert wanted her Heart, and I wanted mine.

Keera.

Chapter one

Keera

Ilooked forward to pain these days. It meant I was awake, and when I was awake, I could ask to speak to the queen and Aderyn again.

The rest of the time, I drifted in a state of numbness, like floating in the warm water of an oasis. It could have been pleasant, but I found myself drowning in it. I waded through the thick malaise, trying to grasp for the thread in my gut—to reach out and touch it, just to check if it was still there.

Sometimes, the haze would thin. Just as I was about to pluck at the fragile bond that connected me to Erix, the pain would rush in. What started as a dull ache coating half my body would quickly build into a raging inferno, as if my limbs were dipped in molten rock.

Sometimes I remembered that they almost had been, as I was crushed by the lava wyrm Erix and I felled.

My eyes would spring open, a scream dying in my throat, to find worried healers hovering over me—sometimes moving my limbs despite my broken protests that motion made it feel as though my skin were splitting open. Other times, they spread cool poultices over me, burning my flesh like ice.

Every time, I tried to speak.

“Queen Ginevra,” I croaked, turning my face away from the cup a wizened old man held to my lips. My voice rasped with disuse, but I put what little strength I had into my words. “It’s important.”

The man smiled, not unkindly, but something wary flashed in his eyes. My head swam too much to decipher the expression.

“You rest,” he insisted, bringing the cup to my lips once again. “Lord Alasdar no longer threatens Kelvadan because of you. Just worry about getting better.”

My ability to protest fled as he poured liquid down my throat, and I was forced to swallow to avoid choking. It was another sentiment I wished to argue against, although it was one I’d heard murmured often by the Kelvadan healers.

They called me a hero. The words were said to comfort me and tell me that my injuries were not in vain. Apparently, in my absence, word of the threat of the united clans led by Lord Alasdar had spread through the city. Then, I had been found holding a bloody sword with the cruel lord dead beside me. It hadn’t been my loyalty to Kelvadan that had given me the strength to run Kelvar’s old saber through his black heart, but the way he had tortured and manipulated Erix. The people of Kelvadan didn’t know that, though.

The healers seemed convinced that I had slain the grasping lord to protect the Great City. It was not enough, though, to get my requests to see the queen treated with any weight. None of it sat right with me, but every time I tried to grapple with the reasons in my mind, the threads of consciousness slipped through my fingers, and I tumbled back into oblivion once more—into a darkness haunted by stone rooms and handprints burned into flesh.

The darkness around me thinned. It took me several slow blinks to recognize that it was not the empty blackness of unconsciousness but the veil of night I saw. I was awake, and for the first time I could remember, there were no tittering healers to ply me with more pain-relieving herbs.

I took stock of the situation, finding my pain present but bearable—a far cry from the agony that had been my existence since the lava wyrm’s corpse crushed me beneath its burning weight. Instinctually, I reached for the tether that would connect me to Erix, but it eluded me, remaining distant and fuzzy despite my unprecedented alertness.

Perhaps it was the distance between us. Or perhaps it weakened as time passed with us separated. I didn’t know how long it had been since that night in Lord Alasdar’s tent—when I had slain the lord of the united clans that threatened to destroy Kelvadan—but from the significance of my injuries and their apparent healing, I guessed it had been weeks. It would mean Erix and I had been apart for longer than we’d spent journeying the desert together. The thought caused an ache in my chest that nearly overshadowed the burning in my right side, which was already beginning to pulse with the beat of my heart.

Not knowing how long I would be conscious against the building pain, I hurried to investigate my surroundings, panic rising to choke me. I needed to speak with the queen—demand an audience before the healers could send me back into unconsciousness. I couldn’t fathom why they hadn’t yet, but the doubt turned the panic bitter in my throat. Turning my head to the side, I was surprised at how sluggish the motion was. All the strength born from months of combat training seemed to have fled, leaving me as weak as I had been as a malnourished exile, languishing at my oasis.

However, my concern about my sorry state fled when I caught sight of a figure seated in the chair by my bedside. She hunched over, face cradled in her hands and hidden from my view. The thick black line inked over a shaven head was unmistakable, though.

“Aderyn,” I croaked.

Her head shot up with a startled jerk, as if she had been asleep before I had spoken.

“Keera,” she breathed, her voice almost as raspy as mine. She leaned forward, letting me get a good look at her face. Her proud features were the same as ever, her icy-blue eyes just as sharp as I remembered, but there was something different about her: a hollowness under her eyes and a hard set to her mouth. She rarely fully smiled—except for at Neven—but there was always a softness at the edges of her lips that indicated she knew how. Now, she just seemed tired. The only softness in her expression was that of relief.

I opened my mouth, full of so many questions and demands and explanations. None of them came though, only a weak cough escaping my lips.

Hastily, Aderyn reached for a pitcher on the table beside my bed and poured some liquid into a cup. She held it to my lips, but I hesitated. Now that I had her here—I didn’t remember seeing her since she found me in Lord Alasdar’s tent—I was loathe to be drugged again. There was too much to say.