Page 80 of Heart of the Desert

Erix pressed his lips together in a hard line at the reminder of his loss of control. While the imminent threat of his magic seemed to have cooled in the wake of Kelvar’s message, it still smoldered, ready to reignite at any minute.

“We can help with the wind,” I offered. Erix wasn’t the only one who could call down storms.

He nodded his agreement. “It can be done. How long will your preparations take?”

Warrick cocked his head in thought. “Maybe a fortnight. Although, extra hands would make the work go faster. Perhaps the clans have some workers who could aid us.”

The lords looked among themselves. To my surprise, the newly minted Lord of Clan Padra spoke up first. “My people will help. My wife’s brother is a skilled craftsman. He will join you.”

With a grumble of agreement, the other lords volunteered their own people, and it was decided.

Warrick rubbed his hands together. “Soon, the warriors of Doran will sail the sea of sand.”

I sighed and scrubbed my hand over my head. Every inch of me was coated in sweat and dust from a full day of helping the clans rebuild their encampment. Supplies had to be organized, and horses needed to be tended. Both Erix and I leant a hand wherever we could.

As I rubbed my scalp, sand dusted down and I frowned. The longer half of my hair was braided out of the way, but the shorter side where my hair had once been burned away was now an awkward length: It couldn’t fit into a braid with the rest, but it was enough to get in the way. I hadn’t looked in a mirror recently, but I worried I looked unkempt.

It would not inspire confidence in a high lord.

I paused for a beat outside the tent that Erix and I had erected for ourselves—while it was in the middle of the circle made by the other lords’ tents, marking the very center of the encampment, it was a good deal smaller. In fact, it was the kind of tent that would usually be occupied by a single rider, but it suited us just fine.

After all, I could sense Erix wasn’t even inside yet, despite the late hour. I had last seen him helping Clan Miran’s horse master tend to a gelding’s cracked hoof.

Giving it just a second’s thought, I turned away and headed to another nearby tent, erected just outside the central circle. It too was small and worn—borrowed from Clan Ratan. It made me frown.

I pushed aside the flap and ducked my head inside. The light of a flickering lantern lit the space, and a shuffling noise hit the air as Aderyn spun around. I didn’t miss the way she snatched her hands away from her belly, which she had been staring down at while caressing gently.

“Keera.” She seemed surprised. “I thought you would be busy with the other lords still.”

“I’d rather have your advice than theirs any day,” I admitted.

At that her lips twitched. It had been long months since the nights we spent bent over papers together trying to figure out how to hold Kelvadan together at the seams. I hated to admit that there was much about being a queen I was happy to be rid of, but the long hours with Aderyn were not one of them.

She was my first friend.

“And what advice could you use from me tonight?” Aderyn asked.

“You’re bald,” I observed.

“We’ve known each other for a while and you’re just realizing this now? How are you such a good sword fighter if you’re this unobservant.”

I huffed. “I’ve noticed. I was just thinking about how you keep yourself that way… unless it’s natural.” I backpedaled rapidly. Aderyn’s bold appearance had always seemed an indelible part of her unyielding façade, but perhaps it hadn’t been a choice.

She snorted. “No, I shave it. Why?”

I gestured helplessly at the side of my head.

“You don’t want to grow it back out?”

I shrugged. “I liked it long, but I can’t stand growing it out—at least not right now. I can’t keep it out of the way, and I don’t want it in my face in battle. Maybe after… this just isn’t the time to be worried about it.” I avoided saying after we retake Kelvadan. As much as I wanted such a time to be, it seemed unlucky to voice such a thought. To make plans for a time without war when so much battle and bloodshed still stood before us.

“Some inconveniences in battle can’t be helped.” Aderyn grimaced, “But this one we might be able to do something about.”

She gestured me to sit as she rustled around in her packs. I followed her instructions, even as I furrowed my brow.

“I would hope some inconveniences are joyful,” I probed. While Aderyn was one of the more direct people I had met—a trait I appreciated in a time when I was so inexperienced with others and the subtext they often defaulted to—I still tried to step lightly around this conversation.

“Some things are both joyful and terrifying,” she admitted. She stepped up behind me with her supplies and ran her fingers through the short side of my hair, testing it.