Page 26 of Crown of the Dunes

Erix

Panic that was not my own penetrated my mind, and I wrapped that tendril of fear in as much calm as I could muster, even as the wood beneath my feet trembled.

This was not the familiar outburst of Keera’s uncontrollable magic I now craved—untamed and wild in my mind all the way across the dunes. This panic was the simple fear of an animal being asked to do something that went against all its instincts for self-preservation.

As the horse’s hooves clattered on the makeshift wooden bridge over the chasm, it began to toss its head in fear. I shushed gently, holding the lead rope firmly, trying to keep it from looking at the endless darkness on either side of the narrow wooden walkway. The horse’s panic in my mind threatened to break free of the calm I wrapped it in, and I murmured nonsense words of reassurance.

It took a few more steps forward, placing its hooves hesitantly as I walked backward.

Soon, we were halfway across, and I praised the horse—a dappled gray gelding—gently, both in words and through the thread of magic that ran through all horses in the Ballan Desert.

These horses were not accustomed to being led on a rope, or tied up in any way for that matter, but neither were they used to crossing makeshift bridges that shifted and bobbed with their weight.

One more step, and my boot hit sand. I let out a heavy breath as the horse hastily took the last few steps onto solid ground. The rider waiting at the other end immediately rushed forward and threw her arms around the horse’s neck, burying her face in its mane.

“He did well,” I grumbled, turning away as the woman undid the loop of rope around the horse’s neck. Guilt gnawed at me for treating one of the Ballan Desert’s chosen creatures in such a way—lead ropes usually reserved for brand new foals—but I did what I had to to see all the clansmen and their mounts off the plateau I had trapped them on.

In the past week, more gravehawks had accosted the encampment, drawn by the smell of burning flesh. The bravest of the riders had engaged them, trying to use them to cross the ravine as I had. They had fashioned hooks from their dirks, and makeshift reins from their hoods, trying to gain purchase on the backs of the creatures who wanted nothing more than to devour them.

One of the first riders had slid off the tail of the deathly bird as it took off and fell screaming into the endless black of the ravine. We had all watched in solemn silence as his shrieks lasted long seconds before the distant crunch signaled his mercifully quick demise.

Far too many riders had fed their blood to the sands, but eventually, a dozen or so of the bravest warriors stood on the far side of the ravine. We set out on foot, ranging as far as we could to collect enough wood to build the bridge that now saw the rest of the clans across.

As soon as the platform had been lowered across the expanse, Alza had stepped boldly forward, neck held high as she placed each hoof surely in front of the other. As much as my heart leaped into my throat as the wood creaked under her lean but significant weight, a sigh of relief went through me.

If a horse would cross the ravine with no urging, then the rest of the clans would be reassured that they could too.

Daiti came second. He had nickered and pawed the earth on the far side for a moment before stepping onto the bridge. When Alza whinnied sharply, as if to chide him for being so fearful, he had ceased his fretting and followed her example.

As soon as more experienced hunters and their mounts had crossed, they had set out to scout the area for water and work to replenish our food and supplies.

The rest of the encampment crossed slowly and arduously, as all nine clans of the Ballan Desert walked the narrow bridge to freedom, one by one.

I turned back to the chasm, surveying the next group preparing to cross. A family of five stood waiting on the far side, the bundles of their tent strapped to their backs. My bones ached with exhaustion, and my eyes were gritty and heavy, but I couldn’t stop to rest. I had trapped these people on the plateau, and if I did not help them off, I would be no better than Kelvar himself, tearing the desert apart and leaving her people behind to fight the rising tide of her rage.

I narrowed my eyes, thinking of the best order for the family to proceed in, when a stirring in the slowly growing camp behind me stole my attention.

Turning on my heel, I faced the sound of hooves pounding in the distance. The family behind me forgotten, I strode forward, hands drifting to my dirk at my belt, the handle of my saber over my shoulder.

I rushed through the circle of half-erected tents to see what was causing the commotion. Joining the riders at the edge of the growing encampment, my eye locked onto the disturbance.

Rapidly approaching was a cloud of sand, the puffs of golden dust the kind kicked up by galloping horses. Several riders from the encampment were out hunting, but the approaching cloud was big enough to signal at least two dozen horses—a far larger group than was usual of hunting parties in the Ballan Desert. My hackles rose, and I feared an attack on the already beleaguered clans.

Without a word, I pulled my saber from my back. The cloth tied around the handle fluttered in the wind, momentarily catching my attention. The tattered strip stained with Keera’s blood was thin and worn by now, but I couldn’t bring myself to remove it.

It was all I had of her, and just as the fabric grew thinner by the day, I felt like she drifted farther and farther away with each setting of the sun. Unless—

With all the clans on the plateau for the past months, the only place these riders could come from was Kelvadan. A few dozen horses were not enough to be an invading army. Perhaps…

The clansman around me drew their weapons, but I signaled them to hold. I didn’t sheath my blades, but I didn’t rush to attack these approaching riders either.

The advancing hoofbeats slowed as the riders drew near. My gaze skittered frantically over each of them in turn, but my heart sank before it had taken in all their faces, knowing Keera was absent from the stillness of the bond in my gut.

The disappointment rang so loud in my head, that it almost drowned out the shock that followed as the dozen or so unfamiliar riders dismounted from their horses and dropped to their knees in front of me.

I stared in shock, unable to summon words as I battled the incessant chattering of the desert and the disappointment of Keera’s absence after the barest shred of hope.

The air next to me shifted as a figure stepped up beside me. I glanced through the edges of the slits in my mask to see Lord Cahir, hands on his hips. My teeth creaked in my skull as I clenched my jaw in irritation.