Page 74 of Heart of the Desert

He huffed. “It was always too long.”

I stared at him over the gleaming blade. It was still deathly sharp from endless years of my compulsive care.

“It made it deadly, but at the cost of ever being fully balanced,” he pointed out, before pursing his lips at the irony of the statement.

“It’s almost as long as a normal blade now.” I observed before tipping the scabbard to pour the bottom half of the blade into my hand. It was a bit longer than a dirk, almost like a side sword. We both stared at it.

“You could repair it,” Kelvar pointed out. “With enough heat and effort, a skilled craftsman could reforge the blade.”

I frowned down at the broken weapon. In the weeks we spent in the encampment before leaving for the ocean, I had considered asking one of the swordsmiths to do just that but had always hesitated. It seemed like the broken blade was trying to tell me something. Perhaps it was meant to be a reminder of how I had shattered after too many years of ruthless sharpening.

A rushing sound began to build and I looked up, only to find Kelvar gone. Instead, I stared out at the ocean, which seemed to be retreating away from me. My brows drew together as I wondered if that was something it often did—I had only been here twice, and the first time I was nearly delirious.

I drifted down the beach curiously, standing where there once had been water, but now was only bare sand. The smell of salt grew strong on the air, carried by a strong wind. My feet sank into the wet ground as I stared out into the darkness.

Then shouting began in the camp from Doran, and General Warrick’s voice split the night air. “Up! Retreat! Get away from the water!”

Chapter twenty-six

Keera

Distant chaos jerked me awake. I lifted my head, searching for Erix. The bond in my belly told me he was near, but my heart leapt into my throat. Sitting up quickly, I found his dark silhouette a ways away standing where I thought the ocean had been when I went to sleep.

I stood, walking to him quickly. The camp around me appeared to be quiet, but the strong breeze carried shouts and sounds of activity. It came from the direction of…

“General Warrick?” I asked as I approached Erix.

His face was equal parts confused and concerned. I understood the sentiment.

“Yes.”

“If that duplicitous snake attacks—”

“No.” Erix cut me off with a shake of his head. “It looks like he and his men are… retreating?”

“They’re setting sail? So soon?”

“They’re heading into the desert.” He pointed toward their encampment. Indeed, men scurried this way and that like fire ants on hot logs, grabbing belongings and hurrying toward the dunes.

I shook my head. “They won’t make it far without mounts. Why would they do that?”

A figure broke away from the hubbub and started running toward us. A gleam of moonlight on copper hair signaled that it was General Warrick himself. “Run! Get away from the ocean!” he shouted as he ran through the tents. He seemed to spot Erix and I, veering toward the beach where we stood.

I reached for a weapon but stayed my hand when I saw that Warrick kept his axe sheathed across his back.

“Wake your people,” he panted as he skidded to a stop before us. “We need to retreat away from the beach.”

“Why?” I demanded. My skin prickled with a sense of danger, but whether it was a sign that Warrick played tricks on us, or that something more sinister was afoot, a did not know. “We don’t even appear to be very close to the ocean anymore. Why is it retreating?”

Indeed, a few hours ago, the spot where I stood would have been knee deep in water, but the tide was nowhere near us.

“I don’t know what caused it, but stories say that it is a sign. It tells that a great wave is coming,” Warrick warned.

“A great wave?”

“I have never seen it myself, but tales say that the ocean retreats when preparing to unleash her fury.” He nodded grimly. “Legends say it’s a wall of water, enough to wash away this entire encampment.”

“How do we know this isn’t some trick?” Erix demanded.