Page 106 of Heart of the Desert

Trebuchets and catapults and ballistae decorated every level of the stacked city, and all of them were trained on our approaching army. The Ballan Desert had always been a place of war, but never like this. The sands appreciated clean bloodshed in duels of honor, and the clans would fight one day and trade the next.

The beacon of love that Kelvar had built for his wife had become instead of symbol of death and hate. No wonder the desert’s Heart was shattered.

Keera’s mental presence in my mind seethed at the sight, and I did not try to soothe it. Instead, I echoed back the anger in full force. Now was not the time to hold back the rage at what had become of the city she once ruled. It was time to unleash.

The flickering dots of fires and torches appeared in the city before us, and I raised my fist, halting our army in the shadow of the mountains. We should not yet be in range of their terrible machines.

Doka pranced and pawed beneath me, not quite as steady as Alza was in the face of violence, but his restlessness echoed in my veins. In fact, it echoed through the whole desert, and I was aware of the vibration of every grain of sand from the walls of the city to the shores of the ocean.

It was strong enough that even those who were not connected to the magic of the desert could sense it. The entire line of soldiers behind me—the riders of all nine clans and the long lines of soldiers from Doran, armed with axes and warhammers—exuded an air of nervous despair.

I turned around, and Keera joined me so we could survey our forces. Gazes shifted and horses hung their heads, in echo of their rider’s posture. The clans were used to war, but not of this kind. There were none braver than the riders of the Ballan Desert, but their courage hung by a thread.

Keera and I had rallied them into a near suicidal charge before, and we could do it one more time.

I drew my sword and held it aloft.

“People of the desert!” My voice projected through the unnatural hush that had fallen over the lines at the sight of our enemies. “You were once united under the illusion that the desert needed to be returned to the old ways, from the times before the Great City. To the days where battle and blood were the highest laws of the land.

“I was wrong though, to espouse such things.” At that, a shuddering murmur ran through the crowd, and people began to look up from their horse’s necks. I took a deep breath before pushing ahead, my voice growing in strength. “The true power of the desert comes to bear when we band together. Today, the desert desires blood, but it will not be ours that is spilled. Today, we will fight, shoulder to shoulder, clan beside clan, against our enemies for the desert and her Heart. Today, we are all riders of the Ballan Desert, and she will not let us fail!”

Sparks ignited in the eyes of those closest to me and they adjusted their weapons in their grips. Some of the fire of battle began to seep into the air and I nodded at Keera. She drew her short sword, the perfect companion of my saber.

“This will work?” she murmured so just I could hear.

“It has to,” I reminded her. It was true—we needed the desert’s fury to help us turn the tide against Viltov’s machines of war. I had done it once before, and there was one sacrifice I had often avoided out of fear of madness, but I was afraid no longer.

And Keera—she was the most fearless of all.

Together, we gripped our blades and twisted, reopening the scars in our hands that symbolized our marriage. Then we reached across the space between our mounts and clasped our hands, letting our blood mix and well up between our intertwined fingers.

Last time we had done this, and the sands had drunk our combined essence, it had shown us the ocean, telling us where our answers lay. This time, I hoped for a different type of answer.

Keera squeezed our intertwined grip, forcing the hot, sticky liquid from between our palms and sending it dripping to the ground. We gasped in unison the moment it hit the sand between us. Color and taste and sensation exploded in my mind, but I didn’t lose myself in it. I could still feel Keera’s hand in mine, and that was enough to keep me present, and to remember what we searched for.

It wasn’t hard to find.

The angry frenetic madness that had been my constant companion for many years leapt forward. Within its wild rage, I found twisting knots coagulating into a dark and perverted sort of life. It was like the mind of the gravehawk and the tricrith I had touched as I tried to ride them, and that was exactly what we searched for.

Together, Keera and I called out to them like we would to a horse. The responding echo of magic, though, was nothing like the clear, bright flame of the desert’s chosen creatures. A broken scream filled my mind, and I thought it was the voice of a woman. Perhaps the youngest goddess herself responded to our call.

Doka shifted under me, drawing me back into my body with a snap. My fingers slipped from Keera’s, but the job was done. Riders gasped and shouted as the sky suddenly darkened, and the crack of thunder filled the air.

But the panicked note of their exclamations turned to wonder as the gravehawks that appeared on the horizon flew right past the army and hurtled toward the city. The ground trembled beneath us, and Doka, young and inexperienced as he was, began to sidle away and toss his head. But I patted his neck and calmed him just in time for the ground between us and the city to explode upwards, showering us with earth and sand as several massive tricriths burst forth. But they too paid the army no mind, instead scuttling toward the walls of the city with clacking pincers.

Today, we fought alongside the monsters. As horrifying as it was, I felt the lift in the spirit of the riders at our backs. The gravehawks screeched, the sound like steel scraping across a stone, as they sped toward the city. Dark dots scurried around the stacked stone buildings for a few moments before more flames appeared.

Then, flaming rocks flew through the air like deadly falling stars, launched by Viltov’s trebuchets and catapults. I winced as one of them connected with a gravehawk, sending it hurtling to the ground where it collapsed in a flaming heap with a sickening crunch. But even more missed their marks, and the creatures of the desert were not deterred. The gravehawks crashed into the first set of machines, and they collapsed like piles of kindling under the weight of their skeletal bodies. The screams of Viltov’s soldiers carried through the still morning air, and the horror of their cries was not lost over the distance. They grew even louder as the tricriths began scuttling up the walls, turning their deadly stingers on the archers stationed atop them.

With the monsters on our side, we had a fighting chance.

Now, Keera drew her saber alongside her short sword and held it aloft.

“For the desert!” she cried.

The shouts and battle cries of the riders behind her drowned out the sound of the monsters’ attack. I raised my sword as well, and side by side, Doka and Daiti plunged forward, leading the charge toward the Heart of the Desert.

Chapter thirty-eight