Page 81 of Crown of the Dunes

“The more time we spend together, the more clearly I can feel your magic,” Erix admitted. “But I don’t need to be in your head to tell you’re sore. You’ve adjusted your seat twice in the last minute.”

“You could lie to me and tell me that only whatever this connection is between us gave me away,” I grumbled.

“Can you feel my presence that clearly?”

I cocked my head, gently plucking the tether that ran from the well of magic in the pit of my stomach. It shivered as he tugged at it in return. The tiny trickle of magic between us that had begun the first time his skin touched mine had formed into a halting flow when we laid together. Now, it was a steady current of power between us.

“No,” I admitted. “I think I can only feel your magic. Not your thoughts and only hints of your feelings, aside from the rush whenever it slips your control. And the dreams”

“It’s the same for me,” he said, squinting at the horizon. “And when you were cut off from the magic of the desert, it was like the connection was gone.”

His fists clenched on his thighs.

“We need to find a place to rest for the afternoon anyway. The horses could use a rest as much as you could.”

“I don’t want to make us stop before we have found shade or water,” I said.

Erix raised a hand to shield his eyes. “There looks to be a ridge over in that direction.”

Indeed, a darker patch indicating a rock formation distinguished the otherwise unremarkable stretch of sand.

“Hopefully there will be a spring or a natural well nearby.”

We continued on and I relished the gentle quiet of the wilderness around me. Mice skittered through dry scrub, the scarce vegetation becoming more common as we approached the rocky outcropping. Somewhere in the distance, a caracal trilled, signaling a successful hunt. I turned my face up to the sun, despite the near-painful intensity of its heat, just to enjoy the momentary burn on my cheeks.

“Do you see that?” Erix asked, pulling me from my reverie.

I lowered my gaze to the cliff we rode toward and squinted. Against the burnt orange of the cliff face were splotches of tan and brown. As I stared, they turned into recognizable shapes—tents and fire pits.

“Is it one of the clans?” I asked, searching for the color of a flag atop one of the tents but finding none.

Erix frowned. “I don’t see any horses.”

The back of my neck prickled at the eerie emptiness of the encampment, apparent even at this distance. We should be able to hear the barking of hunting dogs or the clash of training sabers by now, but none of the normal sounds of an encampment drifted on the quiet wind.

I nudged Daiti into a canter, and Alza followed suit. Horror slithered up my spine as we passed through the outer circle of tents. Many were collapsed or the canvas ripped, cut in large swaths as if by a swinging saber. Some bore stains—the reddish brown of old blood.

We slowed our horses, picking through the wreckage toward the center of the camp. Abandoned fire pits made black pock marks throughout the sand, which had been churned as if by dozens of people running this way and that.

“Was it a lava wyrm? Or bone spiders?” I shivered, remembering the horrifying creatures Erix had described to me when recounting our time apart. The right side of my body tingled and burned where the lava wyrm had crushed me, and I shivered despite the heat.

We stopped in the middle of the encampment before the largest tent where the Lord would live. One side was caved in, the supporting poles shattered beyond repair, with an entire panel of canvas shredded.

Erix shook his head and dismounted. “There are no burns, so it couldn’t be a lava wyrm. And there are no corpses. I don’t think the monsters of the desert would bother to burn the dead.”

I turned Daiti in a circle, taking in the carnage. Erix was right. There were no bodies. Besides the ruined dwellings, there were some marks in the sand where other tents had been, but apparently had been packed up and moved away. I furrowed my brow.

The caw of a bird cut through the heavy lifelessness. I craned my neck to look up at the sky, squinting at a familiar set of brown and white barred wings.

“Zephyr,” Erix exclaimed, the grimness in his tone replaced with excitement.

The falcon fluttered down and tried to alight on Erix’s shoulder. He winced as talons dug into his tunic. Quickly, Erix grabbed a leather glove from his pack and donned it before shifting Zephyr’s weight to his arm.

“Where did he come from?” I asked. Despite my concern for what had happened at this encampment, I couldn’t help the slight warmth in my heart as Erix stroked the top of Zephyr’s head gently with two fingers.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assumed he stayed with the clans when I came to Kelvadan. He prefers being around people. I wouldn’t expect him to be out on his own.”

I glanced around us. “Maybe he’s not. Maybe there is another encampment nearby. They could know what happened here.”