A World of Secrets
Author: James Maxwell
Date: 2020-07-16 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Fiction; Science Fiction; Adventure; Young Adult; Magic; Dystopia; Science Fiction Fantasy
Description: Taimin and Selena must discover the truth about their world—before it’s too late. In a world of secrets, Taimin and Selena are desperate for answers. They need to discover the truth about their origins and the firewall that borders the wasteland. If they don’t find the hidden path they seek, the citizens of Zorn will die. As they make the perilous journey to the distant firewall, Taimin and Selena are joined by three companions: a young healer, a weapons trader, and an old rover. Together the five are in constant danger, unable to rely on Selena’s powers as she has lost the ability to farcast—
Publisher: 47north

ALSO BY JAMES MAXWELL

THE FIREWALL TRILOGY

A Girl From Nowhere

EVERMEN SAGA

Enchantress

The Hidden Relic

The Path of the Storm

The Lore of the Evermen

THE SHIFTING TIDES

Golden Age

Silver Road

Copper Chain

Iron Will

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2020 by James Maxwell

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by 47North, Seattle
www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and 47North are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781542005258

ISBN-10: 1542005256

Cover design by @blacksheep-uk.com

Cover illustration by Larry Rostant

For my daughter, Evelyn, with all my love

CONTENTS

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3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

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17

18

19

20

21

22

23

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25

26

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29

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31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

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40

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

1

Taimin was a hunter, but out in the wasteland he also had to avoid becoming prey. Some creatures were more dangerous than others. Among the worst were the ones with horns.

With his bow clutched in his right hand, he lay on his stomach and slid his body forward, inch by inch. His eyes were on a row of pricklethorn bushes that screened the menacing creature on the thicket’s other side.

The sand lizard behind the bushes was a monster, at least seven feet long. And if it chose to charge, Taimin would never outrun it. Even as Taimin crept toward the edge of the wiry scrub, the sand lizard swept its head from side to side, using its trio of sharp horns to tear bright berries from thorn-covered branches. Strong jaws crunched at the hard fruit, stones and all. The same jaws could bite through the thickest part of a man’s leg.

Taimin carefully nocked an arrow to his bowstring.

This would be his last chance to hunt before entering unknown lands. As dangerous as it was, the sand lizard would provide meat for five hungry travelers. Taimin was alone, but this was a region he knew well. He had grown up above the cliffs bordering the plain, and as a boy he often gazed upon the rugged landscape he now found himself hunting in.

Two suns beat down on Taimin’s back as he watched the gray-skinned lizard lumber closer and closer to his position. A warm breeze blew, dry and smelling of dust. A nearby ravine offered the promise of shade, but he wouldn’t allow himself to rest; not until he’d made his kill. He no longer had Griff, his wherry companion. His right foot was crippled, so he had to sneak up on his prey.

When the moment came, Taimin would stand in a single swift movement. The sand lizard might run, but Taimin would be close. He was a good shot. His arrow would find its mark.

His heart began to race as he prepared himself. He tensed, utterly focused on the horned lizard.

Raucous caws came from the sky. A raptor appeared, then another, until a sizable group of predatory birds swooped toward the sand lizard’s position. Taimin had seen for himself the damage they could do to a big creature, pecking with their sharp beaks until their prey was too wounded to move. Taimin cursed under his breath as the sand lizard froze, turning its head to look at the ugly, beady-eyed birds.

The lizard started to run.

Taimin stood quickly, but already the sand lizard had plunged into the thicket, heedless of the grasping thorns. Fast for its size, the lizard emerged from the bushes and raced toward the nearby gully to escape the raptors.

The raptors passed overhead and Taimin let his arrow fly into their midst. Loud screeches came from above when the birds noticed him. They were smart enough to avoid Taimin and his bow, and as a dead raptor fell from the sky, the rest became fearful and scattered.

Taimin whirled to see the sand lizard vanish into the ravine’s depths. He burst into a run, moving with the hobbled gait that was the best he could manage. He reached the gully’s lip to climb down the rocky slope.

He found himself standing inside the shadowed interior. The ravine was deep enough to place him in near-darkness, and he readied another arrow as he waited for his vision to adjust. At any moment the angry lizard could charge.

He saw a long, gray shape up ahead.

The sand lizard had reached the end of the ravine and come to a dead end. Cornered, it turned back to face Taimin and parted its jaws to reveal curved, yellow teeth. The creature gave a hoarse, threatening hiss.

Seeing how close the lizard was, Taimin’s pulse quickened as he watched carefully. He knew he would only get one shot. With a fluid movement, he drew his bowstring to his cheek and sighted along the arrow. He held his breath.

The sand lizard lowered its horns and charged.

Taimin’s bowstring thrummed. His arrow slammed into the lizard’s tapered skull. The creature gave a convulsion, then sprawled out onto the dirt.

Taimin remained tense. With wary footsteps, he approached the lizard. Glazed eyes told him it was dead. Then he came to a sudden halt. Something new had seized his attention.

Bones. Human bones, without a doubt.

After Taimin’s initial shock, he crouched just a few paces from the dead lizard. Filled with a mixture of horror and pity, he saw a skull, dry and whitewashed by the elements, with teeth bared in a grimace and gaping holes for eyes. Part of a rib cage lay nearby, along with thick leg and arm bones.

He wondered who the human had been in life. It was an adult, but could have been male or female. This person had died in the gully alone, probably long before Taimin’s family came to build their homestead past the top of the cliffs, near the firewall’s edge.

For a long time Taimin stared at this reminder of the fate that might await him. Survival wasn’t easy in the wasteland. His back itched, making his head jerk round, but he was still alone in the ravine. He turned his attention to the lizard. It was so big he would have to throw it over his shoulder.

He would be carrying fresh meat. And the walk back to the cave where he had left the others wasn’t a short one.

There were even bigger beasts around that might want what he had.

Selena stood on the edge of the plain, near the bottom of the cliffs. Her eyes were tight with worry.

The rays of the golden sun Dex merged with the crimson glow of Lux to wash the landscape in bright light. Her gaze roved over a region of snaking gullies and rocky knolls, where raptors fluttered on gnarled trees, lizards peeked from shadows, and cactuses stood with arms upright as if paying homage to the cloudless sky. Cracks and crevices in the dry ground provided places for creatures to hide from both predators and the savage heat. The shades of red were countless, ranging from the rusted color of the dirt to the amber hue of rock formations.

Taimin had said they had just this one day to prepare for the onward journey. They would take the opportunity to repair weapons, replenish water, and gather meat while there was good hunting on the plain. Tomorrow morning they would be leaving this area behind, to travel where none of them had ventured before.

She wished he hadn’t insisted on hunting alone.

He had said he would be back while the golden sun was still high in the sky, but soon it would be sinking into the plain. She watched and gnawed at her lip. Beneath her worry was frustration.

Once she would have been able to use her talent to search the plain from high above, traveling from place to place with ease. Her body would stay where it was, but her consciousness would roam. This ability was called farcasting and, as a mystic, it was what she had been born to do.

But Selena’s power was gone.

Every time her eyes became unfocused and she searched for her symbol and the radiance inside her mind, there was nothing there. She had tried again and again, desperate to grasp her inner fire and free herself from her physical form, but all she found was emptiness.

She knew the loss of her power came from the time when she was back in Zorn and stood face to face with an enemy: a snarling, pinch-faced man who prepared to plunge a dagger into her chest. To defeat Arren, the mystic who had tormented her, she had been forced to find his weakness. Like her, Arren had been born with a power he couldn’t understand. His mother had despised him and called him cursed. Selena had used her talent to learn about her enemy and his difficult childhood, and then she had deployed this knowledge against him. She had taken him back to his past, and used the memory of his mother to cow him into submission. His fatal wounds had done the rest.

Selena’s actions had saved her life, but she had recoiled at what she had done.

And since that time, she hadn’t been able to farcast.

Without the ability that was as much a part of her as breathing, Selena felt crippled, just as Taimin surely felt about his foot. She could only search for Taimin with her normal vision. She stared at every rock and cactus on the plain as dread squeezed at her chest.

Where was he?

She turned to glance back at the cave. The tall, jagged entrance was shadowed, but she knew that Ruth, Vance, and Lars were inside. She decided that when the golden sun touched the horizon, she would ask them to help her look for him. Taimin might be out there somewhere, in trouble, too far away to call for help.

He shouldn’t have gone out alone.

The yellow sun became orange as it fell, little by little. Selena glanced at the cave again. It was time. He should have been back long ago.

Her eyes caught movement on the plain.

She held her breath. A figure moved across the sun, heading at an angle toward her. Gradually a man’s shape became clearer, walking with a slight limp. The tension went out of her body. Taimin was burdened with something: a big weight on his shoulders. His limp was no worse than normal. Tall and broad-shouldered, with bristling brown hair and dark stubble on his cheeks, he was too far away for her to see his eyes, but she knew they were the same color as his hair. His eyes were kind and gentle, like him. His jaw was square, and his eyebrows gave him a curious, wistful expression.

Even distant, she caught the flash of his teeth as he saw her and waved. And there was Griff, a big creature, racing behind him to catch up.

Wait.

Griff was now a wyvern. He wasn’t with them anymore.

“Taimin!” she screamed. She waved her arms frantically. He smiled and waved back.

The creature was the size of a wherry, but it had horns, and wherries didn’t have horns. Selena’s heart beat out of time as she realized it was a firehound, charging toward Taimin from behind.

Taimin’s head turned sharply. Dropping his burden, he whirled.

The huge firehound slammed into him. As Taimin and the firehound rolled together, everything was confused.

Selena burst into a run. Her breath came in gulps. She saw Taimin on top, and then the firehound. A long knife was in Taimin’s hand. He plunged it into the firehound’s flank again and again.

The firehound stopped moving. Taimin tried to return to his feet, but all of a sudden he weaved. He wobbled for a moment, then crumpled.

Selena sprinted as fast as she could, her feet pounding at the dirt and rock. As the distance shrank, she saw Taimin’s face in profile. He was grimacing, sitting on the ground. Just a few paces away, the huge firehound lay dead with deep wounds in its side.

Taimin yanked at his right boot to pull it off. After a few grunts of pain, he focused on his foot and massaged it with both hands.

Selena came to a halt, red-faced and panting. “Taimin—”

“Don’t look,” he snapped. He tried to shuffle so he had his back to her.

Selena couldn’t stop herself from staring. Taimin always tried to keep his childhood injury hidden, even from her. The entire foot had a misshapen, right-angled look. His toes were squashed together and one bone was prominent along the top, forming a ridge. But as bad as his injury was, the firehound’s attack had made it worse. The side of Taimin’s foot was red and inflamed, the rest bruised blue and purple.

Taimin glanced over his shoulder and flushed with shame when he saw her. He returned his attention to his foot and rubbed at the flesh, gritting his teeth as pain contorted his face.

Selena crouched at his side. She couldn’t see any other wounds. “How bad is it?” she asked him, meeting his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he grunted.

“I’ll get help.”

Taimin shook his head. “I don’t need help,” he said briskly. When Selena frowned, he looked at her and softened his tone. “You have to trust me. I’m fine.”

For a moment she stared into his face, and as he stopped rubbing his foot, she saw that his breathing had evened out and his color had returned. Soon he was grabbing his boot and pulling it back on.

Selena wanted to help him, but instead she glanced at the firehound. “I’ve never seen one that big.”

“Me either,” he said, following her gaze. The creature’s horns were frightening. Taimin climbed to his feet, spurning her outstretched hand. “We should go before the scavengers come.”

He limped over to the sand lizard he had been carrying before the firehound struck. With a great heave, he threw it over his shoulder.

Selena drew in a sharp breath. “Are you sure—?”

He gave her a wry smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be better by morning. Come on. We’re not safe out here.”

Selena shook her head but stayed silent. As they traveled in the direction of the cave—one of a multitude that lined the base of the towering cliffs—she turned her head to gaze up the heights, where a steep trail led up to the escarpment. Wyverns soared high above. The wasteland was never without danger.

Her thoughts were grim. If she had been able to farcast, she could have spoken in Taimin’s mind to warn him about the firehound. Today, Taimin was alive. But tomorrow he might not be.

“Don’t look so anxious,” Taimin said. He gave her a smile, a real one. “We’re alive. We have each other.”

Selena didn’t return his smile. “But we’ve still got a long way to go.”

2

Vance had his blades laid out in front of him on the cave’s sandy floor. He liked order and precision when it came to his weapons, and each was placed neatly beside the other: a long knife and a short knife, both with bone handles fixed to pale basalt wood, and beside them a thin steel skinning knife. His composite bow, as well-made as they came, rested on a cloth by his knees, and both the stock and the string glistened with freshly applied oil. His sword required the most attention of all. The hardwood blade lay across his lap as his hand made circles over the edge with a smooth stone.

As he honed the sword, he grimaced. Usually he found caring for his weapons something that relaxed him. With his neat flaxen hair and his trimmed beard and moustache, he liked civilized ways. But away from Zorn, not everyone was civilized.

An unpleasant scratching sound filled the cave, much louder than the singing whisper of the stone against the hardwood blade. Vance glared. The ragged sound came from Lars, who sat on a rock, tearing a rectangular piece of coarse leather into strips with his knife. Each long, drawn-out rasp made Vance’s skin crawl.

Lars was a burly man, hairy everywhere except his head, which was as bald as a wyvern’s egg. His eyes were dark and moody, and a thick black beard covered his chin. Vance often wondered about the rover’s past, surviving by his wits in the wasteland, trading skins as he roamed from place to place. But Lars wasn’t the type to share stories.

Lars noticed Vance watching him. The skinner’s eyes rested on the sword across Vance’s lap. “You ever going to finish? I could use some help turning this into cord.”

Vance scowled. “A good edge takes time,” he said. The stone in his hand kept moving, even as he spoke. “Why do you need cord?”

“If you hadn’t spent your life in a city, you’d know there’s always a need for cord. Tying meat. Wrapping skins. Bundling arrows.”

Vance thought it sounded like a waste of time. “We’ve got this one day to prepare and you’re making cord? If I were you, I’d be looking to that axe of yours.” He glanced at the weapon, propped up against the wall of the cave near the older man. “Test the edge. It’s blunt.”

Lars tore off another strip of leather and grunted. “It is not.”

“Show it to me.”

Setting down the leather and knife, Lars pushed himself to his feet. His back made a cracking sound and, not for the first time, Vance wondered at the skinner’s age. Lars grabbed his axe and brought it over.

Vance took the weapon. The axe was short but heavy, with a haft of timber and a half-moon blade of bone. Vance ran the edge of the axe over his forearm, pushing it against the hair. “See?”

“What about it?”

Vance handed Lars the axe and again picked up his sword. He scraped the blade along his skin. A single swipe shaved the hair from a patch on his arm.

Lars scowled and inspected his axe. “I haven’t sharpened it in a while, that’s all.”

“The problem is you keep taking off more of the edge. If you hone with a smooth stone, you’ll need to sharpen it less often. Here.” Vance handed Lars the stone.

Lars hefted the stone, as if he wanted to throw it at Vance’s head, but then he stalked away. Vance smiled as Lars sat down with his axe. Gathering his collection of blades, Vance sheathed them one by one, then took them to his pack. He hummed a tune to himself, pleased that the cave was peaceful.

A loud whirring came from behind him.

His head jerked round and he stared at Ruth. She was hunched over a circle of stones with a bow in her hand to start a fire. Her brow furrowed as she worked, yanking the bow back and forth to spin a long stick against a piece of flat wood on the ground.

Ruth’s short wavy hair was a dark shade of red, the color of the wasteland. She was pretty, with brown eyes and full lips, and wore a snug leather vest and trousers.

Vance watched while she grimaced and moved her arm furiously. Clearly she needed his help.

“Here, let me do it,” he said as he approached.

He knelt beside her and took the bow from her hands. She gave him a dark look, but he ignored her and began to saw with the bow. He frowned. He might not be as strong as Taimin, but the muscles in his arm were burning after just a few pushes and pulls. The stick caught in the bowstring and kept jumping off the flat timber beneath it, forcing him to stop and start again. He clenched his jaw tightly. His frown deepened.

Ruth gave a short laugh. “You’ve never used a bow to start a fire, have you?”

She snatched the bow back as Vance tried to think of a retort. Readying herself, she lifted her arm and started again. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and then smoke curled from the base of the pointed stick. Ruth set down the bow and put some dried grass to the smoldering wood. A tongue of flame caught hold and expanded as she fed the growing fire with twigs.

“You know weapons,” she said. “But when it comes to survival out here, you’ve got a long way to go.”

Vance felt a spike of irritation. “I do know weapons,” he said. “What’s yours?”

“I’m a healer. You know that.”

Vance grinned. “So you can’t fight, or you won’t?” Slowly he shook his head side to side. He let the silence grow and added a stick to the fire. His good mood began to return.

All of a sudden, Ruth left the fire and walked over to Lars. Vance turned and watched closely.

“Can you spare some of that leather?” Ruth asked the skinner. Several lengths rested at Lars’s feet as he honed the edge of his axe.

“What for?”

“Can you or can’t you?”

Lars scratched at his thick black beard. “Take what you need,” he said with a shrug.

Ruth sifted through the leather strips, then took some with her to the far side of the cavern. Without asking, she bent and grabbed one of Vance’s knives. Vance scowled, but she didn’t even look his way as she sat down near her own blanket. Wondering what she was up to, he watched as she began to work at the leather.

He raised his voice. “What are you making? A sling?” he asked.

“Something like that.”

Spying movement at the cave’s entrance, Vance saw Taimin and Selena enter together. Taimin looked tired, and when Vance saw the size of the sand lizard on his shoulder, he could understand why. Selena looked much the same as always: pretty, but in a delicate way, slight and slender with long hair as black as night, and high cheekbones. Like Taimin, she wore basic traveling clothes, dusty but well made.

Vance tilted his head. Taimin’s limp looked worse than usual, but he knew better than to say anything as Taimin walked toward the fire and set down the dead sand lizard.

Vance glanced up at his friend. “Any trouble out there?”

“None,” Taimin said.

Selena opened her mouth, and a shadow crossed her odd-colored eyes—one green, the other brown—but she didn’t say anything.

Inspecting the sand lizard, with its gray hide and three horns, Vance wondered if Ruth was right. He knew about weapons, and had once earned a living trading them, but that didn’t mean he was used to the constant danger out in the wasteland. He couldn’t imagine going out alone and facing down such a menacing creature.

He hoped that no one else knew about the fear he was trying to hide.

The cave’s entrance was dark. Nightfall had descended on the plain. The meal was done, and the coals had settled down to red embers.

As he sat with the fire in front of him, Taimin rubbed his foot. The throbbing had settled to a constant ache. He had to hope he would feel better by the morning.

He was trying to put on a brave face, but in truth he was afraid about letting his companions down. Until he met Griff, he had never strayed far from the homestead where he grew up. Now he was making a long, perilous journey.

He reminded himself of what he knew about their destination. In Zorn, they had discovered a map of the wasteland with a symbol—a marker—twin to the one at the city itself, but also connected by a few bridging lines to the firewall. While the marker was in a barren desert with few features, their hope was to find a path through the firewall to the lush paradise that Taimin and Selena had seen from the sky.

The well in Zorn was dry. Without water, death would come to the city. If Taimin and his companions were successful, they could lead everyone to a verdant land, filled with rivers, lakes, and oceans.

While Selena, Vance, and Ruth slept nearby, Lars also faced the fire. Thinking about Zorn made Taimin again wonder at the city’s mysterious builders.

“Where did they get the stone?” Taimin asked. His brow was furrowed as he stared into the coals. “The city was built on a plain.”

Lars grunted. “Plenty of stone around.”

“White stone? That much of it?”

“Lad, we might never find out who built Zorn. It was hundreds of years ago, long before our time. I’m more interested in what’s outside the firewall. Water to drink. Animals to hunt. Trees to build houses with. Good soil and space for crops to grow.” He poked at the embers with a stick and tossed up fiery sparks. “Freedom to roam.”

Taimin remained pensive. “They were tall.”

“Eh? Who?”

“The city’s builders. Bigger than humans or trulls. Who were they? Where are they now?”

Lars shrugged. “You know I don’t have the answers.”

“If the firewall has nothing to do with the motions of the suns, then what is it?”

“The important thing is that we find a way through to the other side,” Lars said firmly. “We’ll have to search when we get there. What would a gap through the firewall even look like?”

Taimin reached out to pick up the piece of fibrous paper that lay on the ground nearby. As he inspected the map they had copied before leaving Zorn, he focused on the marker at the firewall’s edge and tried to picture a path.

When he was young, he had come close to the firewall, where the sky turned red and the heat became unbearable. The firewall as he had seen it was clearly impassable; after his parents’ bodies were taken into it, he had watched them burn to ash in just a few hours. Perhaps there would be a break in the red color, a place where a swathe of blue sky rose above normal dirt, rather than blackened ground.

To escape the wasteland, he would have to learn the truth about a world full of secrets. If he could find a route to the lands outside the firewall then not only humans, but all of the five races would no longer struggle just to survive.

Lowering the map, Taimin glanced at Lars. “The marker might signify something else,” he said.

“There’s a way through,” Lars said. “I’m sure of it.” He climbed to his feet and stretched. “Anyway, I’m off to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, and the day after that. Tonight we have full bellies, plenty of water, and a fire. But you and I both know that from tomorrow, things aren’t going to be so easy.”

Selena lay on her side with her eyes open, facing the wall of the cave. She listened to Taimin and Lars talking. She thought about the firehound’s attack.

What if he hadn’t turned in time? He might die one day, all because she couldn’t farcast. She would never be able to prevent him taking risks, and nor did she want to. She just wanted to do what she could to keep him safe, and to help every member of the group on their perilous journey.

She remembered his injured foot. How did he live with the pain?

After the two men’s voices became quiet, she heard a shuffle behind her, along with Taimin’s breathing. He slid onto the blanket at her back, moving carefully so he didn’t disturb her.

She turned her head and stared into his eyes for a moment, but she knew they weren’t alone in the cave.

“Good night,” she whispered, so that only he would hear her.

For the first time, he moved to bring himself close, on his side like she was, and she felt his body all along her. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached out and grabbed his hand to pull it over herself.

She felt a sudden urge, a desire to kiss the man holding her, but she was conscious of Lars’s snores from the far side of the cave. Instead, she simply enjoyed Taimin’s warmth.

As she settled into sleep, her thoughts drifted. Her mind turned to the things Taimin and Lars had said.

She tried to imagine the builders of the white city, Zorn. Taimin had said they were tall . . .

3

Ingren walked on blackened ground, while ahead of her, her eight-foot-tall figure cast a long, wavering shadow. Her skin felt hot, but she knew it was just a trick of her imagination; her protective body suit would keep her safe. The sky was red in all directions. The vista was barren; desolate. The very idea of life surviving in this place was unthinkable. She felt her anxiety grow and tried to focus on Ungar, her bondmate, who led her ever onward.

Ungar’s shadow was even longer. His shoulders were broad and his limbs were lean. As he walked with long strides, his entire body communicated pent-up force. Strong and brave, even by the standards of his fellow warriors, he was a bondmate to be proud of. If he had one flaw it was that he sometimes confused courage with rashness.

Ungar’s suit-clad silhouette was sleek and silver, contrasting with the fiery sky, but focusing on him through the strange smoky haze was difficult. He was a shimmering figure holding a ceremonial spear, a weapon too long and awkward to fit inside his suit. Ingren blinked. She knew fatigue was wearing at her senses, even as the extreme conditions and endless walk made her lose all track of time. But she knew she had to keep up, and stay close to her bondmate. Losing him wasn’t an option.

As her boots crunched into the black dirt, she saw Ungar enter a field of boulders; at least the change in terrain proved they were actually moving. She thought about the dangers ahead. It was in her nature to worry, and even making it through this difficult stage would only mark the beginning of the quest. Nonetheless, she couldn’t wait until the crossing was over. The environment surrounding her was hostile to all life. If it weren’t for her suit, she would be dead in moments, scorched to the color of the ground around her.

Ungar glanced over his shoulder and slowed his pace so she could catch up. His face was covered by the silver material of his suit, except for his eyes which were always bright and crimson, like burning coals. Ingren heard his low, growling voice.

“I told you my suit is too small.” Ungar scratched under his arms. “It is rubbing me raw.”

Ingren shook her head. Despite the situation she almost smiled. After twelve years of bonding, she was used to Ungar’s complaints. Her own suit also felt tight and constrictive, but she was simply glad it worked. It covered her from head to toe, the flexible material extending to boot coverings and gloves. A transparent section in front of her eyes enabled her to see, while her breath was evacuated through a mesh near her mouth, which also filtered the savage heat from the air outside.

Ungar made an elaborate show of stretching while he resumed his walk. He still took the same determined strides, but he appeared to have finally realized she was having difficulty keeping up.

“It was your idea to do this,” Ingren said.

“At the moment, we are not doing anything. We are walking,” Ungar said impatiently. “My spear thirsts for blood.”

“We will make it through the barrier soon enough. Then your quest can begin.”

He snorted. “You call it my quest.” His red eyes gleamed as he turned his head to face her. “Yet I have no doubt that you will be pleased to be the bondmate of a marshal. You know as well as I do that there has never been a marshal who has not completed a quest.”

“I know, I know,” Ingren said. “Your superiors do like their traditions. The hunts still mean something to them. I have to say, though, I will be happy when we are back home.”

Ungar’s voice became serious. “I have heard your doubts, but I need to know I can rely on you.”

“Of course, bondmate.”

“Five trophies, Ingren. Five trophies to take back to Agravida. Each hunted down and defeated in physical combat, as bonded warriors did long ago.” Ungar lifted his spear into the air. “You have no idea how eager they are to hear of my exploits when the quest is done.”

The more excited Ungar became, the more Ingren worried. “This rule about the strongest opponents—”

He bristled. “It is no rule. It is about custom, and honor. They will see the severed heads. They will hear my tales. I cannot return with the head of an infant. My trophies must be worthy.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you understand?”

Ingren kept her expression blank. “Yes, bondmate.”

Ungar tossed his head and turned away from her, no doubt thinking of the glory that awaited him. As they continued their journey, Ingren noticed a gradual change in the sky, a lightening from deep red to a softer shade of pink. A patch of blue appeared above the horizon.

“At last,” Ungar grunted. “We are nearly through.”

The tension in Ingren’s body eased. She examined the landscape and noticed more color in the terrain. Looking again at the sky, she saw more blue appear through the crimson haze.

Ingren had conducted research in preparation for this quest. She and Ungar carried with them a map of the wasteland. They had planned Ungar’s hunt, and careful surveillance told them where they would find prey for him to track down. They had chosen to initiate their journey at this time in order to intercept a particular group of humans traveling close to the barrier.

Ungar was right. They had completed their crossing, which meant the hunt would now begin in earnest.

Ingren also knew that the barrier of superheated air had a different name among the inhabitants of the wasteland.

They called it the firewall.

Ingren helped Ungar out of his suit before she wriggled out of her own. She took an uncertain breath of unfiltered air, and then a deeper breath when she discovered that it was hot, but perfectly acceptable. It felt liberating to be free of the suit’s embrace, and Ungar was pacing back and forth, obviously pleased. Ingren wrapped up the two suits and put them into her pack. She then took her first proper look at the wasteland.

It was a dry land, brown rather than green, with the occasional skeletal tree a rare sight. The idea of open water was unthinkable. Dirt and rock were the defining features of the terrain. The same animals lived here as those Ingren had grown up with, but the range of species was far narrower than outside. She saw raptors wheeling in the sky and watched as a rock lizard chased a stinger beetle. A few tall fronds of pink razorgrass fluttered in the breeze. Spiky cactuses dotted the area, limbs awkwardly bent in a variety of poses.

“We are here,” Ungar said with pride in his voice, as he moved his gaze to take it all in. He turned to Ingren. “What an adventure we will have.”

Out of his suit, he now looked like a creature of the wasteland himself. He wore a traditional costume, brown in color, tied with leather cord at the waist and torso. Tiny green beads of aurelium decorated his costume’s collar; no bonded would be without protection against mystics. An angular black symbol on Ungar’s breast displayed his rank of sub-marshal. His high leather boots were antiquated, as old-fashioned as the curved knife at his waist. He still brandished his long ceremonial spear.

Ungar’s head moved from side to side as his gaze alighted on one thing and then another. The curling horns on either side of his crown were as red as his eyes. A flat face and sweeping brow ridges gave him a look of haughtiness, while his skin was the same color as the rocks littering the terrain. His mouth was parted, displaying several rows of sharp, yellowed teeth. He was the image of a perfect warrior, and he was so eager he was almost smiling.

Ingren’s clothing was plain; she was no hunter and, in truth, this wasn’t her quest. Her long gray robe, belted at the waist, complemented the wasteland in that it was drab rather than colorful. Her pale yellow horns were short and pointed. She was completely unarmed; as an advisor, she could never contemplate violence, even to save her own life. She carried all of their provisions in a pack on her back that was large enough to also store the grim trophies her bondmate planned to acquire.

“Ready?” Ungar grunted as he glanced at her. “Good. Come on.”

Ungar set off again with his long, ground-eating strides. Ingren found it easier to walk without the encumbrance of her suit, and traveled at his side as they headed farther into the barren wasteland that was so different from the home they had left behind.

It wasn’t just the savage heat and lack of greenery that made Ingren feel she had come to another world altogether. No matter what she saw, she knew she wouldn’t find any signs of advanced technology. She wouldn’t hear the buzz of machines or see the soaring heights and smooth, regular angles of the buildings that made up the city she lived in. Traveling to the wasteland meant escaping such things in order to return to a more primitive state of existence. Even the rations they had brought with them were uninteresting. Ingren already knew she would miss the food of home.

The menacing presence of the barrier fell away behind them. Ungar stayed silent, preoccupied with searching the terrain. After some time, Ingren glanced over her shoulder to see that the barrier was now just a line of reddened sky above the horizon.

She gazed ahead once more. They were approaching an escarpment, where the ground fell away in an abrupt drop. Ungar was forced to change his path, and soon they were following a long series of cliffs that loomed over the plain far below. They walked just a short distance from the edge; there were few bonded Ingren had known to be afraid of heights.

Ingren heard a piercing shriek and her eyes immediately roved to find the source. She focused on several large, winged creatures with red bodies, soaring below the escarpment.

“Did you see? Wyverns,” Ungar called back to her.

Ingren watched the wyverns circle over a section of the cliffs where they must have built their nests. She was fascinated to actually see them in the flesh. All the wyverns were long gone from the places she knew.

The cliffs curved back and forth, jagged and broken so that Ingren could peer all the way down to the bottom. She took note of a long series of caves. Tracing back up, she decided there was an area where the slope wasn’t as steep; she and Ungar should be able to make their way down.

“I think I’ve found somewhere we can store our suits.”

“Yes, yes,” Ungar grunted.

Ungar was preoccupied, walking with his head low to the ground and inhaling through his nose. Ingren decided not to distract him and kept her thoughts to herself as the two suns fell toward the horizon, the red sun chasing the golden, each vying to be the first to reach their beds on the other side of the world.

Despite Ungar’s confidence, Ingren’s worry resurfaced. This was an ancient rite of passage, and Ungar and the marshals whose number he wanted to join took it seriously. Ungar would not stop until he had his five trophies, and would insist they came from the most powerful and prominent members he could find from each of the wasteland’s five races. He had a strong sense of honor, even for a bonded warrior. Another warrior might kill the first bax or mantorean he found, but Ungar would do everything in his power to ensure his opponents were worthy of his spear.

Ungar had a particular fascination with humans. Humans weren’t as strong as trulls, but they were numerous, and tended to specialize. Ungar had become excited when his surveillance discovered the humans traveling in this area. One in particular was a strong specimen: tall and athletic, with bristling brown hair, a square jaw, and a steel sword worn at his waist.

Ingren knew from her research that a steel sword would be rare and valuable in the wasteland, undoubtedly a weapon to be fought over. If the tall human carried a steel blade, rather than wood or bone, he must be a capable fighter. Almost certainly, he would be skilled in the art of combat.

“Wait,” Ungar said sharply. He continued to sweep the ground, moving his neck from side to side while he sniffed. His face was low as he took a deep breath through his nose. “I smell something. This way.”

Ungar picked up speed and Ingren hurried after him. They left the escarpment behind and she followed him over the rocky ground, through fields of boulders, and up and down rolling hills. Lizards scurried out of the way. Narrow-faced birds wheeled and cawed overhead. After hours of hurried travel, Ungar came to a halt at the top of a hill.

Ingren caught up to him, breathing hard. She followed Ungar’s gaze. He was looking down at the remains of a wooden building surrounded by a ditch. It had once been enclosed by a tall fence, but most of the fence was ruined. In the past, fire had claimed what appeared to be a primitive house, leaving behind charred timbers, and a few pieces of snagged cloth that fluttered in the breeze. The beams that made up the roof had collapsed onto the structure below.

Curious, Ingren scanned the tiny cactuses and spiky razorgrass poking up through the ruins. It was easy to think that nothing lived in the wasteland. This was her first sign of intelligent life. From her studies, she knew that skalen lived in dark caves, and mantoreans and trulls were nomadic. Most likely, either humans or bax had built this homestead.

“This was abandoned long ago,” Ingren said.

“That may be,” Ungar said. “But the trail is fresh.”

“Are you—?”

“Yes,” he said flatly. “I am sure.”

Ingren watched as he left the hill and began to circle the homestead. He kept his distance, head low to the ground, sniffing for the trail he had followed to this place. He lifted his head and called to her.

“I have the scent.” He pointed. “This way.”

“Is it them? The humans?” Ingren asked.

He was already striding away, and called over his shoulder. “Yes, Ingren. Now come. I am about to collect my first head.”

4

“I still say we should follow the firewall.” Vance anxiously smoothed his moustache. “It might take longer, but it’s safer.”

Vance led from the front while Taimin and Lars brought up the rear. Taimin’s right foot was aching already. He knew the others would be able to see him limping worse than usual. At least the swelling had gone down overnight. He was just going to have to grit his teeth and bear it.

They were following the bottom of the cliffs, which gradually lost height as they traveled. Taimin gave a slight smile when he saw the way Vance scanned the terrain and checked the sky, bow held at the ready. As usual, the former weapons trader was trying to prove that he could handle himself in the wasteland.

“The only way to be safe is to be quick,” Ruth said. She glanced at Vance as she walked just behind him. “The firewall curves. The fastest way to the other side of a circle isn’t to follow the edge.”

“There’s less danger near the firewall—”

“Don’t pretend you know the wasteland.”

“And you do?” Vance asked curtly.

“I haven’t spent my whole life in a city.”

“Quiet!” Lars growled from Taimin’s side.

Nonetheless, Taimin heard Vance mutter, “I just think that if we follow the firewall there’s less chance we’ll get lost.”

Taimin decided to speak up. “Ruth is right. We need to get there quickly. We’ll follow these cliffs to the riverbed and then we’ll know we’re on the right path. We have a map. We won’t get lost.”

Vance turned back to meet Taimin’s eyes. “But the firewall—”

“Is safer,” Taimin interrupted, “but only to a point.”

Vance clenched his jaw. He shook his head and spoke under his breath, but everyone could hear him. “There could be anything out there. It’s not like we can see what’s up ahead.”

“Vance . . .” Ruth said. Her cautioning tone made him look back at her. Ruth glared at him and then looked pointedly at Selena. Taimin saw Selena’s face in profile. Her expression was carefully blank.

Vance flushed. “I didn’t mean—”

“You know she would farcast if she could,” Ruth said.

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” Vance protested.

“Enough!” Lars brought the conversation to a halt.

Taimin saw that Lars’s expression was worried as he scratched at his thick black beard. The big, bald skinner had survived the wasteland for longer than any of them, and Taimin trusted his instincts.

“Can you walk any faster?” Lars asked bluntly. He scanned the flat plain bordered by the cliffs. It was midmorning and Dex was rising, which meant that the sun’s golden rays all came from the same direction. “We need to get past this cliff. Our shadows mark us out.”

Taimin looked at the cliff. Rather than a sheer wall of rock towering above, it was now lower and made of pale, crumbling chalk. Every member of the group had an enlarged silhouette marked against the white face. With a grimace, he tried to pick up his pace. “Better?”

“Not really.” Lars’s gaze continued to sweep the horizon. “I don’t like being exposed like this.”

Selena slowed to wait for Taimin and Lars. “It’s fine, Taimin,” she said. “We’re all tired.”

Taimin felt tension in his shoulders. “Lars is right. We need to get past these cliffs. I’m slowing everyone down.”

He didn’t like the situation. Trouble was best avoided. Following the cliff had been a good idea; threats could only approach from one direction. He could never have known that their shadows against the white background would make them so visible.

“Wait,” Lars said sharply. He was squinting; looking into the golden sun made it hard to see anything on the plain. “What’s that?”

Taimin’s head snapped to the side. He stared where Lars was looking. Tiny tears formed in his eyes. His breath caught as he saw figures, but they shimmered like mirages. He soon realized they were becoming bigger. Then, a few seconds later, he could make out detail.

“Blast it,” Lars swore.

Taimin now saw a dozen or more man-sized shapes. They had spread out, making it clear that the group of humans had been spotted. “Vance! Ruth!” he cried.

The running figures became larger still. There were at least twelve . . . perhaps fifteen. Taimin’s group was outnumbered. The figures had squat, toad-like bodies, thicker in the torso than humans, and ran with a hunched posture. A thick spine ridge was their most distinguishing feature, and they wore armor of hardened leather.

Taimin’s heart raced. He was looking at a war party. Each squat figure carried an axe, club, or sharp wooden spear. Most were males with blemished skin, but there were a few females with pinkish cheeks; all had deep-set eyes.

“Hurry up!” Lars yelled at Vance and Ruth. “Bax!”

Taimin shot a glance at Lars. “There’s too many of them.”

Lars spoke swiftly. “Bax are followers. We have to capture the leader. It’s the only way.”

Urgency fired through Taimin’s veins. He gave a sharp nod. “I’ll take him out.”

Lars was right. Taimin had to seize the initiative. He swiftly drew his sword from the scabbard at his waist. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he began to walk forward. At his back he heard his companions readying their weapons.

Taimin singled out the leader – a bax with a thick neck, powerful shoulders, and a purple stain on the side of his face. The warriors on either side of him followed in a ragged line. The bax leader hefted his axe as he charged. He was brave and well ahead of his group, eager to be the first to make a kill.

“Stop!” Taimin bellowed.

He had addressed the crowd in the arena in Zorn, and knew how to make his voice heard. But when nothing changed, he readied his sword. It would be difficult to capture the leader without killing him.

He heard a whirring sound.

Surprised, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder to see Ruth whirling several lengths of braided leather over her head. Weighted with stones, the cords flew above her in a blur.

Ruth let go.

Her weapon crackled as it shot forward and struck the purple-faced bax in his torso, wrapping around his limbs as his momentum carried him forward. The leader crashed to the ground and lost his axe. Before the bax knew what was happening, Taimin had closed the distance and pressed his sword point into his throat to force him onto his back.

“I said stop!” Taimin roared.

The rest of the bax faltered when they saw Taimin standing over their leader. One after another they came to a halt, chests heaving as Taimin leveled his gaze at them all. Meanwhile Taimin knew that his companions stood behind him, ready to fight.

“Wait.” He scowled. “All of you, wait.”

The expressions he saw were more puzzled than anything else. It was common for humans and bax to attack each other on sight. But at least Taimin had caused them to hesitate. He had their attention.

Taimin glared down at the leader on the ground. The bax scowled up at him and spoke in a rough, gravelly voice.

“Why not kill me, human?”

Lars spoke up. “Trust me, my friend here can fight you all on his own. But if he chooses not to, I would listen to what he has to say.”

The members of the war party now had time to think. Most were warily watching Taimin. A few glanced past him at Vance, Lars, Selena, and Ruth.

“What should we do, Hagrax?” a bax with a thorn-studded club asked the leader.

Taimin tried not to show it, but the fact that the other warriors were looking to the leader gave him hope. Everything now rested on Hagrax, and whether he was intelligent enough to talk his way out of his predicament.

“If I die, avenge me,” Hagrax replied. He narrowed his eyes at Taimin, despite the leather cord entangling him and sword point pressed against his throat.

Taimin’s mind was working. He remembered when he was searching for the city with Selena and Lars and kept encountering bax. They were territorial, and didn’t travel without good reason.

“This is a war party. Where are you going?” When Hagrax didn’t answer, Taimin pushed his sword point harder against his neck. “Answer me.”

Hagrax scowled. “To the city, Zorn.”

“Why?”

Hagrax’s dark eyes met Taimin’s. “Word is the city’s soldiers were killed in a rebellion. If we are to strike, now is the time.” He glanced meaningfully toward his followers; they still outnumbered Taimin’s group three to one. “If you don’t like it, kill me and see what happens next.”

Taimin was worried. He knew how precarious the situation in the city was. But there was supposed to be peace between Zorn and the bax who lived nearby. “Blixen would never agree to it. There’s been a truce.”

“Blixen will not remain warden of the Rift Valley forever.”

“You don’t have the numbers,” Taimin said.

“You think this is all we have?” Hagrax shifted position and sat up. As the bax began to untangle himself, Taimin moved his sword to keep him pinned in place, but still Hagrax didn’t stop. “Now, human, I think you have a decision to make.”

Taimin had been prepared to consider himself satisfied if no one lost their lives. Yet he hadn’t been expecting Hagrax’s revelation. If he let the bax depart, they would go on to threaten Zorn.

It was Lars who spoke. “Our group is smaller than yours, but we can fight. Best thing for us all is to pretend we never met.”

Hagrax watched Taimin, waiting for him to speak, but Taimin said nothing. “I can do that,” he said slowly.

Taimin’s frustration grew, but there was nothing else he could do. He removed his sword from Hagrax’s throat and took a step back. “You have your freedom. Go.”

Hagrax climbed to his feet. With a last look of venom at Taimin he grabbed his axe and waved his arms to gather his warriors. Soon they were loping away.

Vance was watching Ruth as she collected her leather weapon and fastened it around her waist. “Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.

“My mother taught me. Before we moved to Zorn.”

“What do you call it?” Vance asked.

“A grapple.”

“You probably saved our lives,” Taimin said. As he sheathed his sword, he searched the horizon for a time, pondering.

Word was out. The bax scattered across the wasteland knew that the Protector of Zorn had fallen, and that with him the feared city guard was gone. Zorn was now a target.

At the same time, the knowledge only served to increase Taimin’s determination to reach his destination. Without a reliable water source, the people of Zorn had no future. Meanwhile, the wasteland’s five races were constantly fighting over scarce resources and the few places where they might be safe.

On the other side of the firewall, new lives would be possible, not just for humans, but for everyone. Taimin had to do everything he could to find a way to get there.

5

Taimin climbed the slope of a gully. A powerful river had once flowed in the very place he was walking, so wide that a stone couldn’t be thrown across its breadth, and deep enough to form tall, steep banks. After days of hard travel, pain crept up his leg with each step, but he had controlled it for half his life and forced it to the back of his mind. Late afternoon sunlight cast long shadows behind him on the deep gully’s floor, where smooth stones littered the ground.

Lars had gone to scout the terrain from higher ground, but he should have been back long ago. Creases lined Taimin’s forehead as he approached the top of the bank and thought about all the ways Lars might have got himself into trouble. He came to a halt and stared in all directions. There was only one place that commanded a decent view, and he squinted against the sunlight until he saw Lars’s bald head, poking up above a tall hump-shaped rock to leave the rest of his body hidden. Taimin had no idea how Lars had made his way up so high. The skinner must have found a series of ledges on the other side.

Taimin’s jaw remained clenched. For Lars to have been looking for so long, he must have seen something.

As Lars’s head turned his way, Taimin knew better than to wave. He kept himself a little below the top of the slope. He was sure Lars had seen him, but after a quick glance the skinner returned to whatever he was watching. For a time Lars was motionless, with his attention focused back the way they had come. Then his head ducked down, so that Taimin could no longer see him.

Taimin wondered where Lars had gone, but then saw a flicker of movement as the big skinner dashed from one hulking boulder to the next, his deft movements belying his age and size. Taimin spun round to scan the landscape, in the direction Lars had been looking. He couldn’t see anything. Deciding he shouldn’t stay so visible, he skittered back down the slope.

Selena stood waiting for him and her brow furrowed when she saw his face. Ruth was at Selena’s side, while Vance was farther back with his bow in hand.

“What is it?” Selena asked.

“I don’t know,” Taimin said. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I think Lars has seen something.”

Vance came over. “Where is the old man?”

Ruth frowned at Vance. “Don’t call him that to his face.”

Taimin caught movement. Everyone fell silent.

Lars was hurrying along the base of the gully, heading toward them. His expression was worried.

“I’ve got bad news,” he said as he approached. “We’re being followed.”

Taimin involuntarily glanced over his shoulder.

“Who by?” Vance asked. “Bax?”

Lars shook his head. “No. There’s just two of them.”

If Lars was anxious, then so was Taimin. “How far away?” he asked.

“Far enough that all I can tell you is they’re tall. In truth, I don’t know what they are.”

“You’re sure they’re following?”

“Aye.”

“How can you know?” Vance asked.

Lars gave Vance a flat look. “I know.”

“If they’re tall, they might be trulls,” Ruth said.

“Or a couple of humans keen to trade,” Vance said. “We’re probably worrying about nothing.”

“Taimin?” Selena asked.

Taimin thought for a moment. “I think I should drop back and take a look. If we’re being followed by a pair of trulls, we’ll know we’re in trouble. Mantoreans or humans we can trade with.”

“Sorry, lad,” Lars said. “I hate to tell you what you already know, but you’re too slow.”

There was silence for a time. Vance stroked his moustache and looked back the way they had come. The ancient riverbed continued for miles. “I’ll do it.”

Lars snorted. “You?”

Vance scowled. “I know how to stay hidden. And I’ve no doubt I’m faster than you. I can see who they are and run back.”

“You’re a city dweller,” Lars grunted. “You’re useless out here.”

Color came to Vance’s cheeks.

“Vance,” Ruth said softly. “Maybe Lars—”

Vance’s face became even redder. “I’m going,” he said. “I can handle myself. I’ll be fine.”

“Fair enough,” Lars said. He smiled, but his eyes were dark. “I won’t try to change your mind. They’re still on the plain—when I saw them they were out in the open, barely trying to stay hidden. Remember, you only need to get a look at them.”

Taimin was worried about Vance, but he also knew he couldn’t take away his friend’s pride. He glanced up at the golden sun. “It’s going to be dark soon.” He nodded farther up the gully. “We’ll keep moving and find a safe place to wait. You’re sure you can do this?”

All eyes were on Vance. “Of course.” He nodded, but when he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “I’ll be back in no time at all.”

As soon as he couldn’t see the others anymore, Vance regretted his decision. He hadn’t realized how comforting it was to have his companions nearby. He felt alone and exposed. Anything could happen. He was walking toward danger, rather than away. It was late in the day, and the shadows cast by the tall banks on either side of him would only grow deeper. He doubted he would get lost, but he also had no desire to return in darkness.

He didn’t even know how likely that was. He hadn’t asked Lars for a better indication of how far away the two figures might be. Nor had he asked Taimin how far he planned to continue along the riverbed. There were so many unknowns. What was pursuing them, and why?

“Just get the job done,” he muttered to himself.

He lengthened his stride as he walked along the wide gully, back the way they had come. Soon he would reach its end. He set his jaw with determination. He could do this. Ruth would soon learn that he wasn’t afraid of the wasteland.

In the distance, where the dried riverbed terminated, the banks became even steeper. He kept an eye out for threats and one hand on the hilt of the short sword he wore at his hip. He was looking for humans or trulls, and could see the gully was empty. Nonetheless his gaze darted around; the lengthening shadows might hide scorpions or snakes, firehounds or sand lizards. Even the sky wasn’t without danger. Wyverns might plunge down from above. He had even heard tales of raptors tearing a man to shreds.

Deciding he had probably come far enough, he approached the steep wall. If Lars was right, and they were being pursued, he would find a good place to wait for whoever it was to come into view.

He began to climb.

The slope forced him to reach up and grab hold of the bigger rocks while he pushed with his legs and worked his body higher. He gritted his teeth and shifted his left foot from a cleft in the bank, moving it to a boulder he had just used as a handhold. Reaching out to a withered root, he immediately removed his hand and winced. He hadn’t seen the thorns.

Halfway up, loose dirt gave way and he slipped. His feet scrabbled before the sound of tumbling gravel made him freeze in place, held up only by his hands, which were both wrapped around a misshapen boulder half his size. He waited for the clatter to die away, ears pricked. Realizing he couldn’t hang on forever, he kicked out with his feet and finally found a place to wedge them.

Fortunately, the top half of the slope was home to an immense tree, living precariously on the steep incline. Brittle branches with a multitude of smaller siblings spread a network of fingerlike twigs overhead. Vance worked around its roots to reach the top of the incline.

He panted and peered over the lip of the gully. All he could see was a trio of boulders, each the size of a house. He scanned, staring across the plain. Nothing moved. He took his time and checked everywhere. Still nothing.

He knew he needed to find somewhere to hide. The big boulders were obvious candidates. One of the hulking rocks was close to the dried-up riverbed, which he needed to follow if he wanted to return to the others. He gathered himself, then left the gully completely to dash to the nearest. For a moment he was exposed while he ran. But the boulder wasn’t far. He threw himself to the ground, flattened his back against the hard surface of red rock, and tried to calm his heaving chest.

He had his back to the boulder, but if he peeked around the side, he would be able to watch the plain. Summoning his courage, he leaned out and looked.

There. He saw them right away.

His first glance was quick, but Lars had described two figures and there they were. They were dark red in color, which was odd, but it might have been a trick of the failing light. Walking with long strides, they were following the exact path Vance had taken earlier. They were certainly tall. Vance even thought he had seen horns. He knew his eyes were deceiving him. Nothing with horns walked on two legs.

What were they? Trulls? He glanced at his sword. A shiver of dread crept up his spine. He needed to identify the two figures and return to the others, so he had to wait. But no matter what, he didn’t want to get caught up in a fight.

As he listened to the sound of his own quick breathing, his pulse began to race faster and faster. He knew that time was passing. The two figures would be drawing near. But he couldn’t move. Instead, his tension grew. How fast were they traveling? He hadn’t really gained an impression. He inwardly cursed. Why did he volunteer? He needed to look again. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He gritted his teeth and told his body to move.

He peered out from behind the boulder again, and as soon as he did, fear struck him like a punch in the stomach.

He yanked his head back. Blood drained from his face. His vision swam; he felt light-headed.

He only saw one of the creatures, but it was enough. It was close—on the other side of the boulder. Far too close for comfort.

The tall creature wasn’t walking anymore. It was standing patiently, legs apart, as if waiting for something. It wasn’t a trull, or a human, and certainly not a bax, skalen, or mantorean. It was something altogether different.

Something truly terrifying.

The monster was at least eight feet tall, with red skin, where it wasn’t covered by a gray robe fastened at the waist. Completely hairless, the creature had a pair of short, pointed horns, pale yellow in color, on either side of its crown. Sweeping brow ridges descended to deep, angular eyes, with dark, glaring irises. The creature’s face was flat and narrowed to a sharp, triangular chin, but its mouth was its most chilling feature. It was all teeth, row after row of them, and looked like it could bite a man’s arm from his shoulder.

Vance put his hands to his temples. What did he just see? Was his mind playing tricks on him? He had seen bigger creatures at the arena in Zorn: wyverns, olegs, and hellstingers. But this was a thinking creature, and it was a giant compared to the other races. It had to be a thinking creature, because it wore clothing and boots and carried a pack on its back.

Why had it stopped? Where was the second one?

Before he could think about it too hard, he stuck his head out again. The creature was still standing in the same place, but was now rummaging in its pack to remove a metal box, the size of its hand, with a smooth, black, glossy surface. Its hand was huge. The fingers were like the grasping talons of a raptor.

Vance brought his head back in. He had to leave. This was something he couldn’t handle alone.

Then he went completely still. He stopped breathing.

He turned and there was a face next to his.

Fiery eyes as red as the crimson sun glared at him. He saw a leathery visage that looked as hard as cut stone. Angular brows came together above the eyes, descending to a pair of flared nostrils and a mouth that was a cavern of jagged yellow spikes. Hoarse breath wheezed from the monster’s chest.

Vance fumbled at his sword, but the moment was lost. A huge hand gripped him by the throat. The creature hoisted him into the air, lifting him high above the ground. Vance’s eyes were wide open. He took in the rest of the creature holding him.

This monster was even taller than its companion, with broad shoulders and legs like tree trunks. A black symbol was blazoned on the creature’s brown clothing, a wicked knife hung from its belt, and its right hand held a long spear with a slightly-curved blade at the end. The monster’s other hand held Vance at eye level, with his feet dangling above the ground.

But more than anything, the horns . . . the horns filled Vance with horror. They were nothing like those of its smaller companion. This monster’s horns were sharp and curling. They were an evil shade of red, as red as fresh arterial blood.

As the monster inspected him, Vance choked. He tried in desperation to suck in a lungful of air, but the grip around his throat was too tight. His head was turned side to side. The monster looked him up and down, taking in his height and frame.

Vance’s chest screamed at him, telling him to breathe. He saw starbursts, but then even the pinpricks of light faded as his vision began to close in. His body convulsed. He heard a loud roar in his ears.

The monster made a sound of disgust. It turned, so that Vance’s back was to the gully, and with a strong movement the monster threw him.

Vance’s limbs flailed. He sailed over the edge of the deep gully, where the drop was undoubtedly long enough to kill him.

He felt hundreds of prickly spikes in his back, an instant before he heard the sound of a great number of twigs breaking. He hit branches a moment later, then his arm struck a thick tree trunk. His leg caught onto a root, twisting his body so that he rolled over and over as he tumbled. He grabbed hold of more roots as he fell, but each came out of his hands. Instead, his back smacked onto dirt, he rolled again, then he slithered down a steep slope of rocks and gravel until he came to a halt at the bottom of the dried-up watercourse.

It took him a few moments to realize he was alive.

He lay in the position he had landed in, waiting for extreme pain to fire from somewhere on his body. Slowly, bit by bit, he moved to a sitting position. He was shaken as he checked himself over. He was bruised, but nothing was broken.

Vance pushed himself to his feet. With staggering steps, he started to walk. He headed toward where he had left Taimin, Selena, Ruth, and Lars.

As soon as he could, he broke into a run.

Ingren waited with her medical array in hand. It was a versatile device with multiple functions, and the only item of advanced technology she had brought with her from the outside world. Ungar had tried to dissuade her—a quest was supposed to be a return to a primal mode of existence—but she patiently explained that every advisor on every quest must have brought one. How else would the trophies be preserved for the journey back to Agravida? Ungar had relented when he realized he wouldn’t be praised for returning home with five stinking, rotting heads.

Ingren kept her ears pricked for any sound of fighting. She heard a grunt, and a crash like an animal charging through a thicket, but then nothing—no clash of weapon on weapon, no roar of triumph when Ungar ultimately took his trophy.

Her head swiftly turned when she saw her bondmate approach, but her heart sank when she saw his angry stride. Ungar’s red eyes blazed, reflecting the last of the day’s light.

Ingren gave him an inquiring look as he marched toward her. “Well?” she asked.

“He was not the one I am after,” Ungar grunted. “He separated himself from the group to spy on us. These humans are wily. They likely scouted and saw us coming. We will be more careful in future.”

“And?”

Ungar firmly planted the base of his spear on the ground. He tossed his head. “I took him easily. He was a poor fighter. I could see that at a glance. Far from a worthy opponent.”

“Be careful, bondmate. Anger may affect your judgement.”

“I am not angry. Merely disappointed.” His nostrils flared. “I was ready for a good fight.”

Ingren returned her medical array to her pack. She glanced up when she heard Ungar bark a laugh.

“You will certainly not be needing that. Come. It will soon be dark. We must increase our speed. My true quarry will not be far away.”

6

“This is not good,” Lars said in a grim voice.

Selena glanced at the older man, then returned her attention to the cliff in front of her. As they had followed the gully, the walls had become taller until they found themselves in the bottom of a gorge, bounded by sheer rock faces. Then the worst happened: the gorge terminated in a steep cliff.

They were boxed in.

Selena turned from the cliff to look over her shoulder at Taimin. He stood farther back, gazing down the gorge and watching intently. Soon the golden sun would fall below the horizon, and with the crimson sun already passed from the sky, it would become much more difficult to see. Taimin pulled his sword hilt a little way and dropped it back into his scabbard again, checking that it was ready to draw at short notice.

Making a decision, Selena turned to Lars, who stood with his legs apart and his thumbs hooked into his belt. “I need your rope.”

“Rope?” He raised an eyebrow and jerked his chin at the cliff. “You want to climb it?”

“Why not?”

Lars shook his head. “We’d be better off turning back.”

“And if there’s danger coming? If we need to get away, we can climb up and bring the rope with us. It’s what, thirty feet high?”

Taimin called back. “It’s a good idea.”

Lars grumbled and rummaged in his pack to pull out a coiled rope and hand it over. “Good luck getting it up there,” he said.

Rather than reply, Selena strode over to Ruth. “Ruth,” she said, holding the rope up meaningfully, “want to give me a hand?”

As realization dawned in Ruth’s eyes, she smiled. “Of course.”

Selena walked closer to the cliff and gazed up. While Ruth unfastened the grapple she wore at her waist, Selena pointed out some promising bulges at the top. “That big knob, near the middle. Think you can get it?”

“I can try,” Ruth said.

Ruth tied the rope to her grapple. Giving herself some extra length, Ruth then began to swing the grapple over her head. The stones flew on their leather bindings as she circled it through the air. Lars came over, but said nothing. Taimin continued to watch for Vance.

Ruth let go.

The grapple shot into the air and sailed over the top of the cliff. The rope began to tighten as Ruth pulled on the end. Selena held her breath. The last rays of daylight glimmered on the rock in front of her as the darkness in the gorge deepened.

The rope went taut. Ruth braced herself with legs apart and pulled. She nodded at Selena. Lars snatched the rope and hauled on it until he was red in the face. He gave Selena a disgruntled look and handed the rope back to her.

“Fair enough,” he said. “But can we climb it?”

Selena took the rope in both her hands and put her boot against the cliff. She grunted and then pulled with her arms, shifting her feet from one hold to another. Soon her body was off the ground, and before long she was climbing up to the summit.

She sat on the edge of the precipice and gazed down at Lars and Ruth. “It’s flat up here. The climb is easier than it looks,” she said. “Send up the packs.”

Ruth and Lars tied the first of their packs for Selena to pull up. Behind them, Taimin was staring up at her in admiration.

Taimin’s shoulders were tight with tension as he gazed down the gorge. Where was Vance? It was almost dark. Who, or what, was following them, and why?

He looked back at Selena. She was still at the top of the cliff, pulling up the last of their packs. Lars and Ruth helped from the ground.

Not so long ago, Selena could have farcasted to search for Vance. Would her power return? Taimin was conflicted. He understood that she hated what she was capable of, but he couldn’t help thinking that if she would only accept that she was different—special—she would be happier.

Taimin couldn’t stay still. Vance should be back by now. He stared into the darkness, searching for movement and the familiar sight of his friend. His foot ached, but it was useful pain. It kept him alert.

He stopped pacing. His breath caught as a sound split the night. He heard a panicked voice. Vance was bellowing.

Taimin’s heart began to beat with heavy thuds. Vance knew better than to make so much noise, at night, out in the wasteland.

He cast a swift glance behind him. Selena anxiously watched from her high position. Lars and Ruth were both at the bottom of the cliff, facing Taimin’s way.

Vance’s shouts became louder. Taimin’s pulse quickened. He no longer had any doubt. There was immediate danger.

Taimin turned toward Lars and Ruth. “Get up there! We have to go. Now!”

Without waiting for a response he took a step toward where the shouts were coming from. He drew his sword and stared. As he held his breath, he saw a running figure revealed in the moonlight. Vance was sprinting for all he was worth. He was covered in dirt and bellowing while he ran.

Lars called from behind Taimin. “What’s happening?”

Taimin waved over his shoulder. “Go!”

Vance reached Taimin and put his hands on his hips. His chest heaved. His clothes were torn. Red-faced and sweating, he was panting so hard he could barely speak. “Have to go . . . now . . .”

“What is it? Trulls?” Lars demanded. Taimin cast a swift look back to see that the rope dangled at Lars’s side. Ruth also watched from the bottom of the cliff. Neither had started to climb.

Vance shook his head. He coughed as he struggled to make words. “Monsters.”

“What are you talking about?” Lars growled. “What’s out there?”

“Giants!” Vance grabbed Taimin’s shoulder to get him moving toward the rope. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me. We have to go!”

Vance’s fear was contagious, and soon Ruth was hauling herself up the cliff. Lars followed behind her, the muscles in his arms bulging as he pulled himself up. Next it was Vance’s turn. Taimin stood with his back to the cliff and peered into the gorge, searching for movement.

He heard Selena’s voice from high above. “Taimin! Come on!”

Sheathing his sword, Taimin went to the rope and wrapped his arms around it. He put his good foot into the first of several clefts he had seen the others use as they made their ascent. He lifted his body off the ground. Steeling himself, he placed his injured foot onto the next protrusion.

Red-hot needles shot up his leg from his crippled right foot. He gritted his teeth and lifted his left foot, wedging it in as he tried to take his weight with his arms and place his bad foot into the next position.

It was impossible. He gave a sharp sound of pain as the rope sped through his hands, burning them. He fell to the ground, his back striking hard enough to knock the breath from his body.

“Taimin!” Selena cried.

Taimin groaned and returned to his feet, leaning to one side. He saw Selena up above, watching him from safety. The others were with her, waiting for him. “You should go,” he called. “It’ll take me too long to get up there, even if you help me.” He had no doubt that what he was saying was true. “Pull the rope up!”

Taimin saw a familiar stubborn expression on Selena’s face. “I’m staying right here. Just take the rope. Hurry!”

“There won’t be time. Whatever it is, I’ll fight it.” Taimin still had no idea what Vance had seen as he drew his sword again. “Pull it up!” he shouted at Selena.

Selena became still. She stared farther along the gorge and the color drained from her face. Her expression of worry shifted to fear, and then horror.

Taimin whirled.

A tall figure strode out of the darkness. Taimin felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

Whatever the creature was, it was a giant—half again as tall as a human, easily nine feet in height. Spiral-shaped horns jutted from either side of its forehead, and it wore brown clothing blazoned with a bold symbol, covering skin a darker shade than its red horns. Fiery eyes blazed like embers. Hard, sharp angles carved its flat face. The monster approached with clear menace, carrying a long spear with a slightly-curved blade.

The giant came to a halt. Red eyes roved to take in Taimin and the people watching from above. As the creature considered each human in turn—inspecting Lars, Vance, Ruth, and then Selena—it dismissed them.

The monster’s attention settled on the one member of the group standing ready with sword in hand. Taimin’s stomach churned as the tall creature began to walk directly toward him, jaws parted to reveal a multitude of sharp teeth. The spear came up, gripped in both hands.

“You,” the giant grunted, stopping to point its spear directly at Taimin. There was something in the gaze Taimin was leveled with. He felt that the monster had an interest in him personally. “Die.”

Taimin fought to stop his hands from shaking. He lifted his sword. He couldn’t climb the cliff. He had to summon his courage, or Selena would watch him die.

The giant—or whatever it was—nodded as if satisfied.

Without warning the creature attacked.

The spear curled in a swift arc, with the blade lined up to strike Taimin across the neck. Taimin’s training and experience in the arena made him duck. The spear swept overhead, its passage so close he heard it. Taimin straightened and already the spear was coming at him again; this time the sharp end thrust toward the center of his chest.

Taimin brought his sword down to smash the steel blade against the monster’s weapon, moving it away and twisting his body at the same time. The long spear pierced empty air.

The giant strangely gave an expression that couldn’t be anything but a smile. As Taimin evaded another blow his opponent picked up the pace, thrusting and swinging its spear. With each attempted strike, Taimin’s right foot screamed in agony as he shifted his body. He dived to escape a horizontal sweep he couldn’t dodge any other way. From his position on the ground he kept rolling. The spear struck the dirt once, twice. Taimin was forced to hold up his sword to block the next blow. The force of mountains crashed into his arms; the creature was so strong that Taimin could barely hold the position for a heartbeat, before he slid blade against spear and rolled again. Taimin struggled to return to his feet, weaving unsteadily as he faced the monster again.

As his opponent circled him, Taimin saw a second giant nearby, watching and waiting. But this one, with smaller, pointed horns and much plainer clothing, was unarmed and appeared content to view from a distance. Rather than join the fight, the smaller creature clutched a glossy metal box.

Taimin moved into the attack. He stepped inside his opponent’s range and lunged at the creature’s head. Trying to ignore the pain in his right foot, he forced the giant to give ground and heard savage grunts as it defended itself. The giant weaved deftly to the side, and a moment later the tip of its spear flew at Taimin’s neck again. Rather than duck, Taimin spun around his enemy’s weapon, gritting his teeth as his foot protested. He slammed his sword down onto the giant’s hands.

It was a clumsy blow—Taimin struck with the flat of his sword rather than the sharp edge—but whatever the creature was, it clearly felt pain. The giant gave a surprised cry as the spear flew from its hands.

The giant’s eyes widened. With his opponent unarmed, Taimin grew more confident. He stepped forward, putting his weight onto his right leg.

Pain worse than anything before stabbed his crippled foot. Taimin’s leg gave way. Before he knew what was happening, he saw the ground coming at him. The side of his head struck the hard dirt. Stars sparkled in his vision.

He found himself sprawled out on the ground. Agonizing shivers climbed up and down his leg. Dazed, he heard sounds of movement, and turned his head to see the giant at his side, towering over him. The giant gazed down, but rather than retrieve its lost spear, the monster stood still, head tilted as if perplexed.

The giant was waiting for Taimin to get up.

Taimin drew in a breath and pressed his hands into the dirt. But as soon as he put any weight on his right foot, pain shot up his leg. He gritted his teeth, but the fight had taken too much out of him. It was no use. He remained on the ground. He didn’t even know where his sword was.

The giant came close and leaned down. A hand with long, clawed fingers reached for Taimin’s foot.

The monster took hold and squeezed.

Taimin screamed, unable to stop himself. The giant squeezed a second time and for a moment Taimin couldn’t breathe as he felt the bones shifting. He gritted his teeth, but couldn’t help releasing a long moan when the giant finally let go.

With blurred vision, Taimin saw the giant appear to sigh. The monster turned and beckoned to its companion.

Taimin craned his neck to look behind him. They were all still watching: Selena, Vance, Lars, and Ruth. When Taimin heard deep, guttural voices he returned his attention to the two tall creatures. They were speaking to each other in a strange language. The smaller giant with the short, pointed horns came forward and, stumbling over the words, spoke in a loud voice.

“He wants to know where there are more humans.”

Taimin gasped; his foot felt like it was on fire. As the moments passed, the monster with the curling horns grew impatient and walked over to retrieve its spear. Through a haze of pain, Taimin wondered if he was about to meet his end.

Lars broke the silence. Both giants turned to face him as he called from the clifftop.

“There is a city—Zorn—where you will find plenty of humans.” He raised an arm to point. “It’s back the way you came.”

As soon as Lars finished speaking, the taller giant said something to his companion. The monster with the face of pure malice then turned on his heel and stalked away. Both creatures disappeared into the darkness.

“The fates are playing a cruel joke,” Ungar growled as his long stride ate up the terrain.

Moonlight guided Ingren’s footsteps. All she wanted to do was rest, but she knew better than to press her bondmate when he was in one of his moods.

Ungar scowled at her while she walked beside him. “We cross the barrier to intercept these humans. We hunt them down, tracking over a period of many days. As we expected, one of their group is a competent warrior.” His voice rose in volume. “But in the end . . . he is . . . a cripple!” He spat the last word.

“He fought well,” Ingren said. “You must admit it, bondmate. I doubt you have forgotten that you lost your spear.”

“Yes, he was skilled.” He tossed his head. “For a cripple!” He muttered something under his breath and then pointed his spear up at the sky. “I thought the stars were watching over me. But I could never return to Agravida with the head of a cripple. The marshals expect to hear of my exploits. Can you imagine what they would hear me say?” His tone became dry. “Yes, he put up a good fight, but in the end I was the victor when he collapsed for no reason at all.”

“Bondmate,” Ingren said, “not everything is the work of higher powers. Some things just are. Remember, if undertaking a quest was easy, it would not be worth doing.”

Ungar’s grunt of reply was noncommittal. Ingren decided to give him some time to calm down. In the end he always did. She knew he would be frustrated to be retracing the route they had taken, and wouldn’t be satisfied until they had covered a lot of ground. It was going to be a long night.

After some time, when the moon had shifted position in the sky, Ingren spoke up. “There is another matter we must discuss.” She used a gentle tone of admonishment she knew wouldn’t provoke him. “We are not supposed to leave witnesses. You are aware of this.”

“I have wasted enough time. There were only a few of them.”

“Bondmate . . .”

He scowled at her, but Ingren returned his stare.

“I cannot go back,” Ungar said. “They will be gone, scattered to the wind.”

“But next time.”

“Next time I will do as you say.”

“As I say?” Ingren raised an eyebrow. “I did not make your rules of conduct; they are far older than I am, and I do not particularly enjoy seeing humans killed just so they will not tell tales of us. If they know we exist, they will organize, and the nature of the quest will be changed forever. You are supposed to hunt and, as I understand it, to stay hidden when you can.”

“Yes, yes . . .” Ungar said as he climbed a ridge, leaving Ingren to hurry after him.

When he reached the top, he glanced back, and a crease of irritation formed in his forehead when he saw he had left her behind. He stared into the distance, pondering as he waited for her to rejoin his side.

“In truth, it was a good fight,” Ungar admitted as they walked together once more. His spirits appeared to improve. “He was a worthy opponent, at least for a time.”

Ingren tried not to smile. “He was, bondmate.”

“Are you sure you understood what the old one said?”

“I am certain,” Ingren said. She considered for a moment. “He called the outpost a city.” She found the idea amusing. “These humans have no idea what a real city is.”

“Whatever he chose to call it, we know for ourselves that humans live there.”

“It is a long way to go.” Ingren hesitated. “And, bondmate, what if you do not find a human as skilled as the one you just fought?”

“We were going to travel to the bax village next. The outpost lies in the same direction. There will be a better human trophy among a greater number.” Seeing Ingren’s dark expression, Ungar spoke reluctantly. “But I take your point, Ingren. If there is not, we can always find the cripple again.”

7

Taimin stared at his foot. Not only was it squashed from his childhood injury, it was covered in purple bruising and swollen beyond belief.

At first, he had worried about undertaking such a long journey and surviving the numerous threats in the wasteland. Now, he had to contend with menacing creatures who, it seemed, had sought him out and wanted him to die.

Taimin was a hunter. He knew that a hunter’s first concern was to avoid becoming prey himself. A sensible person would get to safety, which meant Zorn. Once inside the city, Taimin could tell Zorn’s leader, Elsa, about these strange creatures.

But his quest was too important. He had to keep moving. All he could do was get to where he was going, fast.

Taimin watched the dawn; his throbbing foot meant he hadn’t slept at all. He sat on a rock at the top of a slope, not far from the narrow defile where he and the others had made their hasty camp. He saw the golden orb of Dex crest the distant horizon and reveal itself one bright sliver at a time. Shades of gold and purple tinged the sky. As the sun rose to light up the rust-colored landscape, he focused on scanning the terrain, eager for a task that might distract him from the pain. Daylight banished some of the fear. After taking one last look at his foot, he pulled on his boot, groaning until he had squeezed his foot into the leathery embrace. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled.

The previous night wasn’t something he wanted to remember. Hours passed but still the group pressed on. Visions of nightmare creatures stayed with them, along with voices that sounded like rocks breaking. Eventually, Selena had found a steep cleft, a crevice in the rock wall at the very end of the dried-up riverbed. It was a good place to rest until morning.

Taimin heard movement and turned to see that both Vance and Ruth were awake. Ruth murmured something to Vance, and he nodded. Then she left him, heading deeper into the crevice until the steep walls swallowed her. Vance climbed up to join Taimin, who shuffled so they could sit together.

Vance shared the view for a moment, but his mind was clearly on something other than the morning sky. “Taimin,” he said. He dragged the word out and then stared directly into Taimin’s eyes. “What were those things?”

The warm light couldn’t wash away the gray color of Vance’s face. He was haggard and drawn, but Taimin supposed he must look even worse himself.

“I have no idea,” Taimin said. He continued to scan the landscape for anything moving, anything that might threaten the group. “Where did Ruth go?”

“She’s looking for herbs . . .” Vance trailed off.

Taimin’s mouth tightened. He hated being a burden.

Vance leaned forward. “You’ve traveled the waste,” he pressed. “You must know something.”

Taimin gazed into the distance. “Before my aunt’s death I hadn’t seen much at all. Just the area around our homestead. Most settlers stay close to safety. Lars is the one to ask. He—”

“Ask me what?” a voice called from behind them. Lars looked as tired as Vance. He gave the horizon a quick glance, habitually checking for dangers. Rather than sit, he stayed standing, and kept a hand close to the axe on his belt. “Well?”

“Ask you about those creatures.” Taimin turned toward the skinner.

“What were they?” Vance asked.

“I don’t know,” Lars said. “I’ve never come across them before. But I’ve also never traveled these lands, and I’m pretty sure I can say the same for everyone here.”

“There are supposed to be five races. Five,” Vance said grimly. “Now there’s a sixth?”

“We’re safe now,” Lars said. “That’s the main thing.”

“I can’t believe you sent them to the city.” Vance gave Lars a dark look.

Lars glared back at him. “We’re alive, aren’t we? There are thousands of humans in Zorn. They’ll have a better chance than we did.”

Vance shook his head but fell silent. When he spoke, his eyes were troubled. “So why didn’t they kill us?”

Taimin thought for a time before he spoke. He remembered the monster’s puzzled look when his leg buckled. “The one with the big horns wanted me dead. That seemed clear. But then . . .” He shook his head, recalling how the creature had squeezed his foot. “I don’t know what to think.”

“The one with the spear was male,” Lars said matter-of-factly.

Taimin nodded. “The other one referred to him as he—”

“No,” Lars interrupted. “It’s not just that. It’s the horns. You didn’t notice? They were almost exactly like the horns of a firehound. Curling for a male, short for a female.”

Taimin frowned and then slowly nodded. “The skin was like a firehound too,” he said. “That look and color.”

“Or a wyvern,” said Lars. He scratched at his thick black beard.

“So one was male, the other female, and they’re searching for humans to kill?” Vance glanced from face to face.

“Something like that,” Lars said. “Our goal is to stay clear of them.”

Taimin nodded. “They might be back. We leave this area, and we leave it quickly.”

He reached down and wrapped a hand around his boot. He gently wriggled it from side to side and winced. He wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Selena was up. Rather than join them, she was sitting alone, cross-legged and strangely still.

Taimin climbed to his feet. “Keep watch,” he said to Vance and Lars.

More than anything Selena wished she had her talent back. She was worried about Taimin. She wanted to keep him safe, to remove his cares and share his burden.

She tried to remember everything she knew about farcasting, when she had first learned what she was capable of. There was skill involved. A mystic’s abilities could be trained and honed.

At first, when she had been struck by frequent seizures, visions had come to her unbidden: outlines of distant features and objects, images of approaching threats, and an instinctive knowledge of where she was physically in relation to the things her abilities showed her.

Then she had met Rei-kika, a mantorean, but someone she counted as her friend. Selena had learned that true farcasting meant escaping the confines of her body. She could leave her physical form behind and roam far and wide, the limit of her travel only dictated by her lifeline, which ensured she kept breathing when she was somewhere else altogether. Her curse became a gift. When she pictured a pure, radiant symbol, imagined herself holding it, and allowed it to pull her consciousness free, she could farcast with a clarity she had never experienced before.

There were those, however, who learned what she was capable of and used her for their own ends. The Protector of Zorn had forced her to seek out members of the other races, those he considered his enemies. Selena’s talent was sullied. But the worst moment came when she herself chose darkness, and used her power to delve into the mystic Arren’s childhood memories, and use them against him.

Since that time, Selena’s power had been buried deep inside her, confined by a wall built of her deepest fears. She knew that her problem was of her own making, yet still she couldn’t farcast. Whatever she had done, she had restrained her abilities so effectively that it was as if her power had left her completely. Perhaps it had. Surely that was what some part of her wanted.

Nonetheless, she should have seen the two giants coming.

She tried to clear her thoughts and touch the radiance inside her mind. But try as she might, when she pictured her symbol—a shining, pure moon—nothing happened. As she sat cross-legged with her eyes unfocused, she felt tense and fearful. No matter how much she wanted to find it, her power was far from reach. As always, she had to give up.

“Selena?”

Her eyes refocused and she saw Taimin crouched next to her. He knew what she had been doing. She silently thanked him for not mentioning it.

“Come on. We have to keep moving.”

His eyes were tight; there was pain there, and Selena remembered the menacing creature squeezing his foot while he screamed.

In that moment, she had thought he was going to die.

The ancient riverbed gave way to a new landscape, undulating and windswept, with terrain that rose and fell. The slopes were gentle but Taimin walked with a heavy limp, despite the herbs Ruth had given him. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard Selena’s voice.

“Taimin, stop.”

“What is it?” he asked. He realized that he was panting as if he had just run a race.

“Listen . . .” As she met his eyes, her voice was kind. “I know that life isn’t easy for you. It’s made you stronger than anyone I know. But . . .” she smiled, “at the moment, when it comes to walking, I’m stronger than you.” She paused to let her words sink in. “You need to lean on me.”

His first instinct was to shake his head. “I can manage—”

She cut him off. “Do you want to be strong, or stubborn? We need to travel fast. But if you try to do this alone you’ll only make things worse.” She came close to him so that her slender frame was right beside him. Her arm went around his waist. “Lean on me,” she said once more.

Taimin hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he let her support some of his weight. She was right. He hated to be in the situation he was in, but it was true that the going was easier once he and Selena began to move together. As the journey progressed, Selena had surprising stamina. He was soon traveling faster than he had before.

Yet Taimin couldn’t help thinking about the dangers that might threaten their group at any moment. Like everyone else, he found it difficult to see over the taller hillsides. He saw birds and clumps of pink razorgrass, which meant there might be large predators. He tensed every time he climbed to the top of a crest.

Along with more signs of life came dangers, but not all of it was bad. A few hours into the day Vance spied a grove of lifegiver cactuses, enabling everyone to replenish their water flasks. Ruth’s herbs began to have an effect, and Taimin’s spirits improved. The golden sun rose ever higher in the sky, but the dry breeze wasn’t as hot as it could sometimes be. Raptors clung to the branches of gnarled trees and lizards perched atop rocks; if meat was needed they wouldn’t have difficulty finding it. The higher ground meant they could look back and see the riverbed they had followed. Provided they used the line it made as a guide, they would be heading in the right direction.

As time passed, Taimin brought up the rear of the group, traveling with Selena’s support. He ate his foul-tasting herbs. With every chew, he screwed up his face at the bitter taste and resisted the urge to spit. Instead he made himself take a few more leaves from his pocket and force them into his mouth. His situation would be a lot worse without Ruth’s help.

“I’ve been thinking . . .” Selena suddenly said. She waited until she had his attention. “The city’s builders . . . We know they must be tall.” She met his gaze. “What if we just met them?”

Taimin had wondered much the same thing. “They’re tall enough. But we’re in new lands. Just because they’re big doesn’t mean it was them.”

“Why haven’t we met them before?”

“Perhaps they prefer to stay in their territory, like bax and skalen. Or maybe there aren’t many of them left.” He glanced her way. “Remember, Zorn was built to house a large number. What’s more likely? That those monsters who attacked us built the city, then retreated to a corner of the wasteland where they were never seen again? Or that there’s simply another race out here that’s small in numbers?”

Selena nodded reluctantly.

“Did you ever hear stories when you were young, about giants?” Taimin asked. “My father told them to me.” He stared into the distance. “They were big, and if you didn’t make it home before nightfall they would get you.”

Selena shook her head. “I never knew my parents,” she said. She glanced at his foot and changed the subject. “How is it?”

“I’m fine,” Taimin said. “Whatever these leaves are, they’re helping. I wish you’d stop asking.”

“If you want to rest—”

“We should keep moving,” Taimin said firmly.

Taimin couldn’t stop thinking about the fight in the gorge. He had begged Selena to leave him behind, but she wouldn’t go. He had a terrible feeling she would come to harm because of him.

“You know I accept you,” Selena said. She had a way of knowing exactly what was on his mind. “All of you.”

Taimin shook his head. “There’s danger everywhere. Sometimes the only option is to run – yet that’s exactly what I can’t do.” He thrust out his arm to point at the hill they were climbing. “We can’t see what’s beyond that hill until we’re at the top. There could be anything on the other side.”

Selena frowned. “If there’s danger, you’ll do what you always do. You can fight. We all know that.”

“Fight?” He gave a short laugh, completely without humor. “You saw what happened when I tried to fight.”

“None of us could have beaten that thing.”

“Which means that you shouldn’t have waited—”

Taimin stopped talking. He saw Lars standing on top of the hill and waving to get his attention.

8

Strong sunlight bathed the far side of the hill. Taimin stood next to Lars and gazed down at a large group of insect-like figures with bone-colored carapaces, triangular heads, and multi-faceted black eyes. The mantoreans weren’t moving. Instead they sat in a circle, clustered around something in the middle.

“What are they doing?” Taimin asked.

“I think I know,” Lars said. He made sure he had everyone’s attention. “There shouldn’t be danger, provided we approach slowly. I have some lizard skins in my pack. We might be able to trade.”

“What for?” Vance asked.

“Information, city-dweller,” Lars said. He turned to Taimin. “Coming?” As Taimin nodded, Lars spoke to the others. “You’d best follow at a distance until we’ve made contact.”

Taimin chewed some more of the bitter leaves; although he felt light-headed, he was able to walk at a reasonable pace. Selena, Ruth, and Vance followed more slowly behind.

Two males climbed to their feet and headed toward them. Mantoreans were nomadic, swift on their feet, and known as keen traders and skilled archers. Both of the males climbing the slope held curved bows and, despite their lack of clothing, wore leather belts wrapped around their midsections with dangling knives and other tools. Taimin knew they were males because females were slightly larger, with stronger legs and an egg sack at the waist.

“Greetings,” Lars called, arms wide and hands displayed. “Are you interested in trade?”

“Greetings, humans,” the larger of the pair replied in a clicking voice. He stopped in front of Lars and Taimin. “I am Pron-mik and this is Tera-dal.” He indicated his companion and then turned to face the distant group sitting in the direct sunlight. “We have a female with us, and her time of laying is near. There is hope but also danger. Please do not approach any closer.”

“Understood,” Lars said. “I’m Lars, and this is Taimin.” He jerked his chin. “Coming up behind us are Selena and Ruth. The fearful one over there is Vance.”

Vance scowled and Lars grinned.

The two mantoreans quietly conferred; Pron-mik seemed excited. “Taimin? That is your name?”

Taimin exchanged a surprised look with Lars. “It is.”

“We know of you. News of the change in Zorn has passed from mystic to mystic. After Lin-rai’s eggs are laid we plan to travel there to meet this new leader.” He paused uncertainly. “I have forgotten her name . . . Elya?”

“Elsa,” Taimin supplied.

“Elsa, yes that is it.”

Selena joined Taimin’s side. “Do you know Rei-kika?”

“Of course. Her eggs hatched, which is always news to celebrate. She now raises her hatchlings in the city.”

“In Zorn?” Selena was obviously pleased and surprised. Something occurred to her and she looked over at the group of mantoreans on the hillside. “Do you have a mystic with you now?”

Taimin saw an intent expression on Selena’s face. He remembered that Rei-kika had helped her with her abilities before.

“I am afraid we do not,” Tera-dal said. “Win-sera was killed by a firehound.” His antennae dropped. “A sad situation, and now we are without her protection.” He cast a swift look back at his group and then returned his attention to Taimin. “We should get to business. You have goods to trade? What do you offer and seek in return?”

“I have skins,” Lars said. He pulled a couple of lizard skins from his pack and displayed them. “You have water?”

“We do. A mantorean always knows when water is near.”

Ruth spoke up. “Do you have any red nettles?”

“We have many plants and herbs,” Tera-dal replied.

While Lars and Ruth talked to Tera-dal, and Vance and Selena rummaged through their packs to dig out their half-empty water bladders, Taimin addressed Pron-mik. “We would appreciate any information you can give us,” he said. “We’re looking for a desert.”

“You are on the right path,” Pron-mik said. “Do you see that mountain?” He pointed, and Taimin saw a solitary triangular peak in the distance, past the rolling landscape of hills. “We left it a week ago to find a place with strong sunlight. This location is good, but as always when a female lays her eggs, we are exposed.” His beady black eyes focused on Taimin. “Are there any threats we need to be aware of?”

Taimin rubbed his stubbled chin. “We saw two strange creatures. Tall . . . far taller than we are. They had horns, like firehounds. Does that mean anything to you?”

“No. Is there danger?”

“When we last saw them they were traveling away from this area, but it’s fair to warn you to watch out for them.” Taimin remembered Lars directing the two giants to the city. “They may be heading to Zorn.”

Pron-mik glanced at his companion. “I think the trade is done.” He gave Taimin a double-jointed, jerky bow. “We thank you for your warning.”

Searing heat forced the weary travelers to rest in the shade of a rock shaped like a hand embedded in the dirt. Vance kept watch while Taimin and Lars leaned back against their packs and closed their eyes. Selena sat a little away from the others and once more tried to farcast.

Her eyes glazed. She tried to search inside herself, and again felt the rising fear, the buried part of her that didn’t want it to happen. She focused on the rhythm of her breathing and attempted to blot out the sound of Lars’s rasping snores.

Please, she told herself. She knew it was in there. If she could face down her dread, her power could resurface, and she could help the people with her. She was the one in control.

Frustration coursed through her. Still she felt nothing.

She sighed and climbed to her feet. Ruth was nearby, cross-legged on the ground as her fingers traveled over several lengths of braided cord, weighted with stones. Remembering Ruth whirling her grapple overhead, Selena came to a decision. Ruth looked up as she approached.

“You made that yourself?” Selena asked.

Ruth glanced at the weapon. “I did. My mother taught me.”

Vance called out from where he was keeping watch. “One shot only. Once you let go, you’ve got nothing left.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Ruth gave him a look of pity. “I’d like to see you catch a wherry with a bow and arrow.”

“See any wherries out here?” He raised an eyebrow and indicated the landscape.

“Or take a rock lizard without a mark on it.”

Vance searched for a retort, but Ruth kept going.

“And if you’re wandering about late at night, you’ll be glad I don’t have a weapon that’s going to kill you.”

“Don’t worry, Ruth,” Vance said. “I’ve got good eyesight. I won’t mistake you for a bax.”

Ruth shook her head as she returned her attention to Selena. “Ignore him. He was a weapons trader and there’s no money in something so simple. In fact,” she continued, “that’s a grapple’s strength. They’re easily fashioned, all you need is some leather and you can make a new one. Also,” Ruth showed how the grapple could circle her waist like a decorative belt, “you can fool people into thinking you’re unarmed.”

“You might as well be,” Vance said with a grin.

Ruth grabbed a stone and tossed it Vance’s way, forcing him to duck.

“Can you teach me?” Selena asked.

Ruth frowned as she pondered and made a show of rubbing her chin. “I’m not sure. I’ve heard people with odd-colored eyes can’t judge distances properly.”

When Selena’s brow furrowed, Ruth laughed. “I’m joking, Selena. I’ll make you one, and of course I’ll teach you.” She smiled. “And in case you don’t already realize, you have beautiful eyes.”

Selena returned the smile, but then she turned and saw Taimin and Lars standing up and stretching. She couldn’t help checking Taimin’s color, and decided that he looked better after the respite.

“Time to go,” Taimin said. “We need to keep moving.”

The last rays of the setting sun shone on a tall hill. Nightfall would come swiftly. Rather than find somewhere hidden, Taimin and Lars chose a place that was high and afforded a clear view in all directions.

During the last brief period of daylight, Taimin stood on the hillside and watched from a distance as Ruth and Selena practiced whirling their grapples overhead. As Selena’s weapon flew through the air, Taimin was impressed. Selena was a fast learner and Ruth was a patient teacher. Anything that kept Selena alive was a good thing.

Lars’s growling voice seized his attention. “Lad? I’m talking to you.”

Taimin remembered that Lars had been asking him about which part of the hill he thought was most defensible. “A little higher up,” Taimin said, pointing. “Best if we sleep near that ridge.”

Lars scanned where Taimin indicated. “Looks like a good place.” He shielded his eyes and gazed down at the foot of the hill, where Vance was walking away with his bow on his shoulder. “Hope he knows not to go too far,” he muttered.

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Doesn’t mean I want him dead.”

Lars frowned in Vance’s direction and then headed up to the ridge, while Taimin continued to watch Selena. Soon the fading light forced Selena and Ruth to stop, and Taimin turned away, climbing the hillside to reach the flat section near the crest. He found Lars already selecting a place to sleep without too many stones underneath.

All of a sudden, Taimin didn’t feel right sleeping beside Selena. What could he offer her? He was a burden. He was putting her at risk. He hesitated and then picked a spot near Lars.

He heard voices and saw Selena and Ruth coming up to join them.

A flash of surprise crossed Selena’s face when she noted where Taimin had laid his blanket. With a frown, she placed her own blanket on the far side of the knoll near Ruth.

All Taimin wanted was to rest and get better. He felt tired and guilty. As he chewed on some of Ruth’s nettles, no one else seemed to be in the mood for conversation either. Everyone tended to their individual tasks as Vance arrived at the camp with a fat rock lizard under his arm.

“Look what I shot.” Vance’s grin faded away when no one replied. He scanned the weary group. “Why the silence?” He turned to Taimin, who shrugged and then Vance saw Selena apart from Taimin. His brow furrowed, but rather than say anything he turned to Lars. “Lars, mind showing me how to skin it?”

“Can’t you do it yourself?” Lars cast him a black look.

“Someone taught you, didn’t they? I’m asking for help.”

“Fine,” Lars said shortly. “But we’ll have to do it away from camp. I’m tired, so you’d better learn fast.”

Taimin watched Vance and Lars go. He pulled a few strips of dried meat from his pack, and gazed out at the rolling landscape of low hills and wide valleys while he ate. Color faded from the vista as light left the day, but at least a thin moon would provide light; even after dusk anything big would be seen coming from a long way away. He shifted on his blanket and winced when he moved his foot.

Soon stars filled the cloudless sky while the silver moon shone down on the hill. Taimin chewed on nettles and glanced in Selena’s direction while she spoke quietly with Ruth.

He remembered his aunt’s blunt words, soon after he had fallen off the cliff and injured himself. You’re going to be a burden to yourself and to anyone you depend on.

The thought stayed with him as he tried to sleep.

9

Ingren turned the severed head in her hands. Bax were certainly ugly creatures. Not as ugly as humans, with their disgusting, bristling hair. Not as ugly as the sinuous, snakelike skalen. But ugly enough.

Blood dripped from the bax’s neck, pattering as it struck the ground, like the first drops of coming rain. But rain was something this creature had never known. His head was broad and heavy, to match the body it had come from. Sand-colored, wrinkled skin covered his face, and blotches of pale green blemishes coated his cheeks. His brow was thick and protruding, his eyes were deep-set, and his nostrils were tiny, clustered above a wide mouth and sagging chin. The expression on the bax’s face was angry.

Ingren reflected on the bax’s life, and how his head had come to end up in her hands. As part of their preparations, she and Ungar had marked out a bax settlement, a collection of huts grouped together in a low valley. When they finally arrived, they had watched the village from a distance. They already knew about the warrior in charge, but Ungar had been far more excited to see him in the flesh. This bax was much bigger and stronger than his underlings. He ruled by fear and carried a heavy club, studded with thorns, that he would use to strike the members of his village at will.

Ungar made his choice.

When Ungar’s prey went hunting with three companions, Ungar went after them. Ingren trailed behind, as ever struggling to keep up with her bondmate. Ungar killed the three minions and then challenged the leader. The fight lasted long enough for Ingren to arrive; the bax was big and had some skill. But Ungar’s spear pierced his opponent’s torso, erupting out of his back. Ungar gave a cry of triumph. Soon he was slicing the head away from the body with his ceremonial knife.

Ungar had his first trophy.

Ingren now sat alone on the shaded side of a sharp hill. Bright daylight scorched the barren plain around her and made her glad for her small patch hidden from the two suns. Her studies had told her that the wasteland would be hot, but it was far worse than she had expected. A dry wind blew, sending dead bushes tumbling along the rust-colored dirt, chasing each other until their race was frustrated by snagging rocks and spiky cactuses. Mountains speared the sky in the direction Ingren and Ungar were traveling.

They had been heading toward the outpost – the place the humans had called a city – for a week. Ingren sighed. Thinking of a real city, Agravida, made her long for the quest to be over. At the outpost Ungar would find humans, and they already had the head of a bax. She hoped that the other races—skalen, mantorean, and trull—would be easy to track down.

Ingren set the head on the ground. She frowned. Now the blank, staring eyes watched her disconcertingly. Nonetheless, there was no use delaying the task at hand; the sooner she began, the sooner she would be able to stop looking at the severed head. She picked up her medical array from a flat rock beside her and held it in the palm of her hand. To activate it, she squeezed it until she saw a red blinking light and then used her finger to move the light from one side to the other. The entire array flashed red three times. She pointed the device at the head and this time squeezed with force.

The medical array buzzed as it ejected a mesh, flinging it out like a net to envelop the head. Pulsing strands shimmered like the trails of shooting stars and wove tighter. The lights traveling along the mesh changed color, from gold to pale blue. The wires crackled like sparks from a fire.

The head of the bax warrior gradually withered. When Ingren was done, it would be cured. The bax would look much the same as he had in life, but the head would no longer be affected by decay. The trophy would then go into Ingren’s pack to take back to Agravida.

Ungar was away, searching for tracks, and while Ingren waited for the process to complete, she had a chance to think. One moment the bax whose head she was looking at had been living, the next he was dead. He had lived a fruitful life. Despite his bullying, he had provided leadership to his settlement and protected his community. Then Ungar had killed him, for nothing more than a trophy to give him status among his peers. This bax hadn’t even known that Ungar’s race existed. He didn’t understand the nature of the world he lived in.

Ingren shook her head. If she voiced such thoughts to Ungar, she had no doubt he would laugh at her. He was a bonded warrior, and there was no sentimentality in him at all.

Spying movement, Ingren looked up to see Ungar climbing the slope toward her. He walked with his posture erect and held his spear like it was a part of him, rather than a traditional weapon that would be bizarre to carry around the streets of Agravida. He now had a tale to tell to the marshals he wanted to impress, and a head to show them.

“Are you almost done?” he asked impatiently.

Ingren glanced at the medical array in her hand. She nodded. “Almost.”

“Good,” Ungar grunted. His red, spiral-shaped horns appeared especially bright in the sunlight as he turned to gaze into the distance. “It is time for us to depart. I think I have smelled out some trulls.”

The heavy end of a long club sailed through the air to smash into Ungar’s head. He reeled from the blow and almost lost his footing. For a moment his eyes lost focus.

The trull followed up with another blow, but Ungar took a clumsy step to the side and the trull’s club swept at the empty air. Ungar appeared to recover and moved to give himself some space and face both of his opponents at the same time. He gripped his long spear and glanced from trull to trull, ready to defend himself from the next attack.

The bigger of the trulls, with a body of taut muscle and sinew, opened his mouth and snarled. His curved incisors, drooping below the outside of his bottom lip, glistened with moisture. Although he was only a little taller than the humans Ingren and Ungar had encountered on the dried-up riverbed, his frame was far more powerful. Scraggly gray hair covered the sides of his crown, with the rest of his scalp bald. His nose was snubbed, flattened to his face. His companion, also a male but younger, had more hair and fought with a two-handed sword made of glossy, pale wood. The young trull had skill, but the older was the most dangerous of the pair.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Ungar had thought the trull he was hunting was alone. For days he had tracked a sole individual until he caught up with him in the foothills of the mountain range. Ungar had issued his challenge and the trull’s initial surprise became irritation and then anger. The trull had bellowed something into the distance. As soon as the fight began, the younger trull came running.

Ingren blamed herself. Trulls were known to be solitary. They were the most aggressive of the wasteland’s five races and didn’t enjoy interacting in groups. But that didn’t mean they were always alone. Her assumption had been wrong. If Ungar died, it would be her fault.

Ungar raised his spear to deflect the next attack. The younger trull’s two-handed sword rolled along the shaft of the metal spear until Ungar flicked his arms, knocked the sword aside, brought his arm back, and thrust. The young trull weaved to narrowly avoid being skewered. There was a pause as the three combatants gathered themselves. They were all panting hard.

The gray-haired trull moved first. He swung his club, again and again, forcing Ungar to give ground. Meanwhile the young trull circled round, trying to outflank Ingren’s bondmate.

Ingren clenched her fists. The two trulls knew she was nearby, but she was unarmed and kept her distance, and they were far too busy to concern themselves with her. Ungar’s eyes shifted between his two opponents. In an attempt to halt his retreat he moved forward and blocked the club. Despite his size, Ungar was grim-faced when his weapon and his opponent’s collided. The gray-haired trull snarled again. His muscles bulged as he pushed against the spear held horizontally in front of Ungar’s body.

The young trull saw his opportunity and lunged forward to stab low. His two-handed sword found a gap in Ungar’s defenses and struck Ungar’s side. As Ingren’s breath caught, Ungar grunted with pain. Red blood dripped down his hip.

But still Ungar continued to block his more experienced opponent’s club. He growled, then pushed hard. The gray-haired trull fell back. Ungar turned and brought his spear slicing toward the young trull’s neck, so fast it was a blur. He struck home and the sharp blade at the spear’s end bit deep into the young trull’s throat. The sword fell out of the trull’s fingers. He wrapped his hands around his neck and crumpled.

The older trull roared and charged, but with just one opponent remaining, Ungar became more confident. He launched into a flurry of blows and used his superior height and strength to strike at places the gray-haired trull found difficult to protect. It was clearly a tactic intended to weaken, and it was working. The thick wooden club, far heavier than Ungar’s long but finger-thin spear, darted slower and slower with every block and parry.

Ingren’s heart raced as she watched her bondmate fight. She kept her medical array handy, but all she could do was observe. He was the warrior and she the advisor. Their separate roles were in their bones. It had always been so. If Ungar was wounded badly enough, even the array wouldn’t save him.

At last, Ungar found an opening. He sliced a wound in his opponent’s belly, enough to make the gray-haired trull falter. With his spear in both hands, Ungar thrust toward the trull’s face. Ingren suddenly became anxious for an altogether different reason: if Ungar damaged the trull’s head he might decide he had to find a different trophy. But she let out a breath of relief when the point of the spear pierced the trull’s thick neck and struck deep to open a gaping wound. Ungar brought his weapon back and the trull’s knees buckled before he fell, to bleed out on the rust-colored dirt.

Ingren hurried over to her bondmate. “Ungar, you are wounded.”

He looked surprised and put a hand to his side. He didn’t appear to have noticed the cut above his hip, which had sliced through his clothing and could have gravely wounded him if the blow were cleaner.

“What a fight,” he panted as he glanced at the blood on his fingers. He was inordinately pleased.

“Sit,” Ingren instructed. She pulled him down to the ground and activated her medical array. A swipe on the glossy surface caused the device to light up. The mesh erupted from the array and enclosed the wound in Ungar’s side.

Ungar scowled at the tangle of lights dancing against his body. He obviously knew he wouldn’t be able to shift position for a while, and was clearly too animated to be comfortable sitting still. But when his gaze took in one trull’s body, and then the other, his good mood reasserted itself.

“Which head should I take, Ingren?” He nodded toward the corpse of the gray-haired trull. “The older. Would you agree? The younger looks like a better example of his race, but it is the older the marshals will want to see.” He flashed his teeth. “What a story to tell.” He started to chuckle as the exhilaration of the fight worked through him. “I follow one and find two.” He shook his head and gave a full-throated laugh. “Ah, Ingren, this quest is becoming everything I had hoped for.”

The mesh retracted back into the medical array and Ungar gladly returned to his feet. He peered at his side and nodded in satisfaction. His clothing was still torn, but he was whole again.

Ungar gazed up at the tall peaks nearby. Ingren had studied her map of the wasteland and knew that on the other side of the mountains they would find the outpost.

He then glanced her way. “Ingren, find a place nearby where we can camp for the night.” Turning away from the mountains, he drew his knife and walked toward the corpse of the gray-haired trull, eager to take the second of his five trophies. “It has been a long day.” He crouched and set to his grisly task. “I need food and rest.”

That night, as a thin moon dominated the sky and brilliant stars gazed down from above, far more numerous than the stars in Agravida, Ingren looked at her bondmate from across a crackling fire.

“You need to be more cautious, Ungar.”

“Bah,” he grunted. “I was never in any danger.” He squeezed paste from a tube of rations into his mouth. “And I now have a great story to tell. The bax was a good fighter, but the trulls . . . two of them at once . . . now they were worthy opponents.”

“And if there had been three of them? Rather than laughing about it now, you would be dead.”

“I could have managed three,” Ungar said with a shrug.

“Could you have managed four? Five?” Ingren was unrelenting. “What about a hundred, or a thousand? We will soon reach the outpost. Will you keep killing humans until there are no more left on this world? Surely you know that given enough enemies—or enemies that you underestimate—even you will fall.”

His eyes, a mirror to the red embers glowing in the fire, met hers. “You doubt my skill?”

Ingren sighed in exasperation. “No, Ungar. I do not doubt your skill. But you must exercise some caution. Tell me you understand that there is a time to fight, and a time to run.”

“Run?” His tone was scornful. “I am a bonded warrior, a sub-marshal. I will never run from an enemy.”

“These enemies are of your choosing—”

“Yes,” he cut in, “and just as I do not seek out the weak, my honor demands that I fight to the end. I do have integrity, bondmate.”

“I understand that,” Ingren said, trying not to sound frustrated. “But you also have a duty not to be reckless. Your quest demands you return with five trophies. Not ten. Not twenty. Five.”

“Enough,” Ungar growled. “I have two trophies, and only three more to acquire. You have your own duty, Ingren. To support me. When we are done, I will surely be made marshal. I may even be sky marshal one day. But I still need mantorean, skalen, and human.”

As Ungar stared into the fire, Ingren decided to leave him for a time. She climbed to her feet and walked until she reached the end of the mountain pass where she and Ungar had made their camp.

Standing at the ravine formed by two tall peaks, she gazed out at a new landscape.

Moonlight glowed on a series of steep slopes, like ocean waves frozen in time. The mountains fell away toward a plain, but between the sharp foothills and the plain was a vast canyon, a rift valley, stretching from one side of Ingren’s vision to the other. A maze of ravines and slender passages, it was the kind of place where Ungar would find more heads to fill Ingren’s pack.

The warm wind blew. Ingren found the landscape both desolate and beautiful.

But still she longed for home.

10

For day after day the undulating terrain continued. Keeping close together for safety, Taimin, Selena, Lars, Vance, and Ruth traveled over hills and through valleys. At nighttime they alternated camps between defensible crests and hidden gullies. The lonely mountain, sharp as a knife edge against the azure sky, provided the only guide that they were heading in the right direction. The mountain became steadily larger.

The mantoreans they had traded with had said it would take them a week to reach their next destination: the mine in the mountain, where they could trade for supplies and information from the skalen who lived there. As the swelling in Taimin’s foot went down and the bruising began to fade, he set himself the goal of reaching it sooner. He marched with determination, pushing himself hard, always up front.

After so much time together they each knew their tasks at the end of a day’s travels. Taimin spent time with Vance and passed on the survival skills he had learned from his aunt, teaching what he could about life in the wasteland. Selena and Ruth practiced with grapples. As always, Lars remained somewhat distant.

Now Taimin found himself standing at the edge of a short cliff as he gazed up at the jagged mountain, which dominated his vision. Crevices and ridges colored the mountain gray and black; it was much craggier than it had appeared from far away. He hoped the fissures and chimneys might provide places where they could climb up, for he couldn’t spy a trail.

Behind Taimin, his companions still slept under the overhang where they had settled the previous night. Their camp was in a rocky region, where the stone had a blueish shade, tinged purple as the two suns rose together. The distant sky displayed swatches of pink and yellow that fought each other above the horizon, as if unaware that their azure enemy would soon emerge victorious. The air was warm and still. Soon the growing heat would wake the people sleeping.

Hearing soft footsteps, Taimin glanced over his shoulder to see Selena approaching.

“We’ll get there today?” she asked.

Taimin shook his head. “Not today. Tonight.”

“Why do we have to go there?” A few creases appeared on her forehead. “I don’t like dark places.”

“Any information the skalen give us might mean the difference between life and death.”

Taimin tried to hide it, but his thoughts were in turmoil. Things between him and Selena hadn’t gone back to the way they were before. Even in the arena in Zorn, his fighting skill had kept him alive, but recent events had starkly reminded him of his weakness. His confidence had been shaken. She was the one supporting him. He wasn’t sure if he was right for her.

He glanced at Selena; she was always so beautiful when she had just risen, with her eyes still sleepy and morning light shining on her coal-black hair. It was an effort to return his attention to the view in front of him.

“We’ll need something to trade with them,” he said as he inspected the lonely mountain. His eyes were on the gaping darkness of an immense cave mouth, halfway up the mountain’s slope; he figured it must be the entrance to the mine. “I’ll take Vance and Lars hunting.”

“We’ll need water too, otherwise we’ll have to trade for it,” Selena said. “I’ll see if I can find some with Ruth.” She indicated the grapple she now wore at her waist. “You know we can handle ourselves.”

Taimin gave a reluctant nod. “Good idea. We still need to cross a desert.” He glanced at the two suns, one golden, the other the color of blood. “I’ll go and wake the others.”

He felt her eyes on him as he walked away.

“We can do our own hunting too,” Ruth said. “I could use the time away from Vance.” She raised an eyebrow at Selena as they followed the base of one of the many ravines near the mountain’s base. “What’s wrong?”

Selena’s mouth tightened. “It’s Taimin. Something’s changed.”

Conversation came to a halt as the ravine made a sudden drop, forcing Selena to clamber over the rocky ground. While she searched for deep, dark places where they might find water, she also scanned for threats. She descended the slope and saw another steep-walled chasm up ahead, ploughing a furrow toward the mountain.

Selena helped Ruth to climb down the last section and they reached a graveled trail formed by small stones tumbling from high above. The walls closed in on both sides, and soon the small strip of blue sky above provided the only light to go by. The chasm forked up ahead. Exploring the area was going to take time.

“Whatever it is that’s going on between us, it’s like he’s pushing me away.”

“You must have an idea why,” Ruth said, glancing at Selena.

“He’s independent. He hates relying on anyone else.”

“Taimin?” Ruth frowned. “There must be more to it.”

They took the left fork, then the passage split again. Selena glanced over her shoulder to take note of where they were going. “Like what?” she asked.

Ruth hesitated. “One thing I’ve learned is to be careful when I mention his foot.”

Selena shot Ruth a swift look. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Ruth nodded. “There’s nothing I can do but help with the pain.”

The passage they were navigating terminated in a sheer wall, forcing Selena and Ruth to turn back. Gravel crunched underfoot as they walked. The air was cool and fresh and smelled of moisture. A patch of moss on the sheer slope at Selena’s side told her they might have luck in their search for water.

“I know what you mean about the way he reacts,” Selena said.

“He’s a man,” Ruth said. “He’s proud. He’s had to live with it his whole life, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be reminded that it makes him different.”

Selena reluctantly nodded, but she still worried that she hadn’t unearthed the full truth. She and Ruth climbed past a split in the ground, where a narrow void deepened to darkness. She didn’t like to think about slipping.

She was panting by the time she made her way across. “Even if we find water, how will we get it up?”

“We’ll have to find a new route,” Ruth said, giving Selena a wry look. “And even then we’ll have to make a few trips.”

Selena poked her head into a shallow cave. She saw a sheen of moisture at the back. It was a good sign, but they still needed to keep looking.

“What should I do?” she asked as they resumed their explorations.

“I’m probably not the best person to go to for advice,” Ruth said, her eyes twinkling. She became serious. “Have patience, Selena. Things will change.” She cocked her head, then hurried down another passage. She spoke over her shoulder. “They always do.”

Selena quickened her footsteps to catch up. “What—?”

“Wait.” Ruth raised a hand. “Can you hear that?” They were almost shrouded in darkness, entering an area where more moisture glistened on all the walls. “Come on,” she said eagerly.

The passage became a cave. Selena started when she saw green flecks on the walls, like fiery sparks clinging to the rock but entirely the wrong color.

Soon she heard the sound of dripping.

The ground became smooth. Selena and Ruth walked side by side as they plunged into the shadowed interior of a tunnel that burrowed ever deeper into the mountain. Selena was surprised to realize she could see. More of the green slivers dotted the passage, casting a wan glow. The ceiling opened up, now displaying an eerie version of the night sky, except that these stars were the color of the brightest cactuses. The sound of dripping grew louder.

Selena and Ruth rounded a corner. They both came to a sudden stop.

They stood at the edge of an immense, circular cavern and gazed around in wonder. Long spears of smooth, glistening stone hung from the ceiling and protruded from the floor. Some of the pillars actually met in the middle, like columns supporting the cavern’s roof. A pool of water spread like a silver blanket, stretching almost from wall to wall. Selena couldn’t see how deep it was, but this was more water than she had ever seen in one place. She moistened her dry mouth. The pool looked cool and inviting.

“This is incredible,” Selena whispered. Her voice echoed around the interior, bouncing from wall to wall.

“It’s beautiful,” Ruth said. She smiled when her voice collided with Selena’s.

Selena’s pack slipped off her shoulder and landed on the ground with a thud. Ruth’s pack followed a moment later. At the same instant both women began to slip out of their clothes. Selena yanked off one boot, then the other, before stepping out of her trousers and pulling her tunic over her head. Ruth beat her to it, and by the time Selena was naked Ruth was stepping into the water.

The pool was deep enough to reach Ruth’s abdomen. The short-haired woman shivered, but it was a shiver of pleasure. Selena entered the water; it was cold, so she plunged in swiftly until it covered her waist.

Ruth sank her head under the surface, straightening a moment later and blowing hard. Selena held her breath and copied the move. Cold pinpricks traveled up her skin until all of her hair was submerged. The water tasted sweet on her lips. Rather than stand again, she kept herself down and rubbed her face with her hands, before moving on to her neck and hair. Unable to keep holding her breath, she shot back up and smiled at Ruth.

Soon the pool didn’t feel so cold anymore. The sensation of so much water surrounding Selena’s body was luxurious. She sank down until she was up to her neck and Ruth did the same thing.

“We’ve found water.” Selena smiled. “Plenty of it. What now?”

“It’s still early in the day,” Ruth said. “And we’re not actually that far from camp. I think we can find a better path up, and then we’ll still have time.”

“For hunting?”

Ruth nodded. “For hunting.” She gave a wicked grin. “I’m keen to show the men how it’s done.”

Selena splashed water and watched as the droplets created ripples in the pool. “Have you ever done something like this before?”

“Once, with my mother. But the pool we found wasn’t this deep.” Ruth grinned. “And it was muddy.”

Selena imagined Ruth with her mother. “Do you miss her?” she asked seriously.

“My mother? Of course I do. My father too. I was young when he never came home. From then on it was just my mother and me.”

Selena’s voice became wistful. “When I was small I always wished I had parents.”

Ruth raised an eyebrow. “Only when you were small?”

“Wishing something can’t make it happen,” Selena said. She waited for the echoes of her voice to fade from overhead. “What I want is to know why. Why did they leave me? Was it something they did easily, or was I taken from them? Who were they? Were they settlers? Rovers? Were they kind people?”

“Do you think you’ll ever find out?” Ruth asked.

Selena shook her head sadly. “No.”

“You never know,” Ruth said. “Do you remember anything at all?”

“Nothing. The first people who found me said I was lost and alone, on the edge of a desert.”

Ruth tilted her head. “How many deserts do you think there are in the wasteland?”

“I’m not sure. Not many.” Selena paused for a moment. “What are you saying?”

Ruth shrugged. “I’m not saying anything. Just that we’re going to a desert, and we still don’t know what we’re going to find.”

Taimin, Vance, and Lars lay on their stomachs, slithering toward a skeletal tree at the top of a gentle rise. The tree was tall and broad, with withered branches that spread over the sunburned plain as if trying to provide shade but failing terribly. Brittle twigs and black feathers littered the ground around its trunk.

It was close to the middle of the day. The crimson sun hovered just above the horizon, easily outshone by the golden sun high above, which sent bright rays to the wasteland to scorch the three hunters. Dozens of lean, brown, leathery raptors clung to the tree’s branches, together with a greater number of small scavenger birds. Wings fluttered as beady black eyes swept the terrain and mocking voices called to one another.

The hunt had so far met with little success. Taimin and Lars had each shot a skinny lizard, but they would need something more to trade with the skalen living in the mountain. It had taken them a while to get to this place but at least raptors would provide meat, and the birds’ skins could be used for pouches, belts, and cord. Taimin knew that this might be their last attempt to return with something of value. He and his two companions couldn’t venture much farther from the foothills and still make it back before dark.

One of the raptors shrieked. The bird’s head swiveled and its menacing eyes narrowed as it looked directly at the three hunters crawling toward the tree it called home. Taimin and his two companions ceased their slow slither. They each held their bows out on the ground in front of them and waited. When the raptor’s attention wandered, they began to approach once more.

Soon Taimin was as close as he could get without startling the birds from the tree. He spoke in a low murmur to Lars and Vance.

“We can probably fire two arrows before they’ve all flown away. When we move, we move together.” He glanced at Vance. “Understood?”

Vance nodded, still watching the tree.

“We should give it a few moments,” Lars said softly. “Let them get used to us being here.”

“How do you skin a raptor?” Vance glanced at Lars.

Lars grunted. “With a sharp knife.”

“You know what I mean. It looks . . . complicated.”

“I can skin anything,” Lars said. “There’s a knack to it.”

“Do skalen eat raptor meat?” Vance asked.

Lars and Taimin exchanged glances. “I hope so,” Taimin said.

“Mantoreans are the picky eaters,” Lars said firmly. “Skalen definitely eat meat.”

Vance frowned. “But do they eat raptor meat?”

“Meat is meat,” Lars said flatly. “And meat is always welcome.”

“This will be worth the effort,” Taimin said to Vance. “Lars and I traveled with some skalen for a time. We saw them eat.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Lars said. “We didn’t travel with them, they held us captive.”

“But what if we’re wro—” Vance began.

Lars interrupted with an exasperated snort. “Listen, Vance. You don’t skin a firehound before removing its horns. Let’s worry about bringing them down first.”

“Ready?” Taimin looked at each of his companions in turn.

“Ready.” Vance nodded.

“We all rise together,” Taimin said.

Vance shifted his leg as he prepared to stand and fire. Taimin tried to hiss a warning but wasn’t quick enough and the bare skin of Vance’s ankle brushed over the sharp spikes of a small hermit cactus. Vance stifled a cry as he twitched and grabbed his leg.

With a series of shrieks, every bird in the tree flew into the sky. Within moments the branches were empty.

“You fool,” Lars said.

“They’ll resettle,” said Taimin.

“While we lie here and burn,” Lars growled.

Time dragged out. The golden sun’s rays felt like fire, and Taimin found himself licking his dry lips with a parched tongue. He began to dream of the moment when he could drink some water, but for now he couldn’t move until the birds returned.

“Might as well tell you, lad,” Lars said to Taimin. “I think you’re doing the right thing keeping your distance from Selena. You’ve got a way of finding trouble.”

Taimin’s eyes narrowed. After some time, he spoke in a low voice. “I didn’t ask your opinion.”

As always, Lars was unperturbed. “But there you have it.”

Taimin watched the raptors and smaller scavenger birds settle back to the tree one by one. He clenched his jaw. “My aunt always said a cripple can’t survive long in the waste.”

Once more there was silence. Taimin didn’t trust himself to look at his two companions, worried that he would see pity in their eyes.

Then Vance spoke up. “So that’s it?” His tone was fierce. “We could all be killed at any moment. There could be firehounds creeping up on us as we speak.”

Lars looked reflexively behind him and then glared at Vance.

“You’re choosing not to be with her,” Vance continued, still focused on Taimin. “You’re turning your back on someone you care about. You may have some knowledge, when it comes to survival. But you can also be a fool.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Taimin said.

“Enough,” Lars said. “I’ve got better things to do than lie out here in the heat of the day. Ready?”

Taimin gave a sharp nod. Vance grunted his assent.

They stood as one, drew their bowstrings to their cheeks, and let fly.

11

With Dex below the horizon, the red sun dominated the sky. The period of false night wouldn’t last, and Taimin glanced up the incline he was climbing, bathed in fading crimson light. He kicked with his good left leg and pulled at the sharp rock with his arms. His right foot still slowed him down, but he was pleased at how much he had recovered.

He saw a slender, dark-haired figure climbing above him—Selena—and hoped she wasn’t having as difficult a time as he was.

He paused while wind buffeted him. Then he was forced to look down to find another foothold. He lifted his body up another few feet and reached for an outcrop. He peered up again, and now he couldn’t see Selena at all. Fear stabbed his heart, but then he saw her face pop over the lip of a ledge above.

“Here,” she said. “Grab hold.”

Her long coal-black hair blew around her face as she leaned down to offer him a hand. Taimin accepted her firm grip, and she helped him the last distance until he clambered over the ledge and realized he had made it.

As he recovered, he saw that he was the last of his companions to reach the broad ledge. Ahead of him a dark opening beckoned; a huge, gaping maw leading into the mountain. It was a relief to be on horizontal ground; at first the ascent had been easy, but the last short stretch had been a struggle. When he climbed to his feet, his back made a sharp crack.

Taimin joined the others, who stood uncertainly watching the cave mouth as the false night came to an end. The sky shifted color from deep blue to black, and then there were bright stars where there had been nothing before. The crescent moon, dimpled with imprints, provided plenty of light to see by, and now that Taimin was close, he noticed the hole into the mountainside wasn’t irregular at all. It was tall and triangular, its edge carved with decorative leaves and branches. This was undoubtedly the entrance to the mine the mantoreans had mentioned.

“Do you think they know we’re here?” Vance asked softly.

Lars snorted. “Course they do.”

Ruth grabbed Vance’s shoulder and pointed. Taimin saw several small, shadowed figures watching without leaving the darkness. Moonlight reflected from reptilian eyes and glistened on smooth dark skin.

A moment later, a skalen came forward.

Taimin was relieved to see that the skalen was unarmed. He wore a copper necklace, a tunic fastened with a leather belt, and tight leather trousers tucked into high boots. He walked with grace, and as his body entered the moonlight his youthful skin rippled. He inspected the group with tilted eyes that were neither friendly nor hostile, and his face was flat, with high cheekbones and a narrow chin. A cluster of brown feathers clung to his scalp.

Rather than stop in front of the five humans, the skalen continued to the edge of the ledge they had just climbed up. He leaned to peer down at the route they had taken. When he turned, his expression was quizzical. “Why did you not take the path?”

Vance reddened. “We didn’t know there was one,” he said. Nearby, Ruth’s lips tugged upward in a smile, while Taimin stood with his mouth open.

“No matter.” The skalen’s tone was amused. “The mountain casts a long shadow. I forget you humans do not see well without bright light.” He came closer and inspected the group. “I assume you intended to come to my home?”

“We’ve come to trade,” Taimin said, finding his voice. “We have fresh raptor and lizard meat, and the skins of five raptors and two rock lizards.”

“Six lizards,” Lars corrected, “including four big ones.” Seeing Taimin’s puzzled expression, Lars nodded in Selena’s direction. “These two didn’t just find water.”

“And what do you seek in return?” the skalen asked.

“Herbs, if you have them,” Taimin said. “A few other necessities, but more than anything, information. We want to know about the lands beyond the mountain.”

The skalen thought for a moment and then nodded. “Wait here.”

He returned to the dark interior of his mountain home, a mine that doubled as a place to live in the darkness that skalen craved. The skalen wasn’t gone for long before he came back out again, this time carrying a sack.

“We should talk inside. It is safer.” His lips parted in a toothy grin. “And now that the suns have set, you may be tired. I know you humans prefer to move about in bright light, though I will never understand it. We can offer you sanctuary while you rest,” he displayed the sack, “but you must surrender your weapons.”

Taimin hesitated. He glanced at Selena and then Ruth; the grapples around their waists wouldn’t be noticed. He, Lars, and Vance, on the other hand, openly carried weapons.

“What is your name?” Lars asked the skalen.

“I am Wielan of Haruth Watch.”

Lars introduced each member of the group, then spoke in a firm voice. “Are you offering trade rights, Wielan of Haruth Watch?”

“You know our customs, human.” Wielan smiled. “Yes, I am.”

Taimin removed his scabbard when Lars nodded at him. He also gathered his bow and handed both to the skalen.

“Never fear,” Wielan said when his sack was full. His tilted eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “At Blue Mountain, you will be safe from harm.” The skalen indicated the immense entrance and then called out. “Move aside, younglings. You will have plenty of time to look at the humans.”

Taimin realized that the small figures he had seen before were skalen young, half the size of Wielan. The cluster of little ones hugged the rock walls but continued to watch the five travelers with wide, curious eyes.

As Taimin followed Wielan into deepening darkness the skalen pulled a short rod out of his pocket. The rod was barely the length of Taimin’s hand, but it splashed bright green light onto the rocky walls.

Wielan glanced back to make sure everyone was with him. “This way,” the skalen said in his soft, sibilant voice. He lifted his guiding light high as he walked.

Taimin cast his mind back to the time when he, Lars, and Selena had been captives of Group Leader Vail. He remembered seeing glowing prisms of aurelium mounted to the tips of javelins and arrows, and recalled Lars saying that when struck with force, the aurelium would detonate in smoke and flame. Skalen might not be as physically strong as the other races, but their weapons were feared. They chose to live in places where aurelium was always in supply.

Wielan led the group down a long, winding tunnel. Once or twice he glanced over his shoulder, but with no side passages there was little chance of becoming lost. The tunnel sloped downward as it burrowed into the mountain’s heart. Embraced by rock, the path was dark and still, with the walls and ceiling close enough to feel stifling. Ruth murmured something to Selena, and even though her voice was low it echoed throughout the tunnel. After a time, no one tried to talk.

Taimin felt the air around him becoming cooler. He shivered; after the heat outside it was strange to be rubbing his arms. Wielan stopped near some steps cut into a natural fissure—a chimney that led down into a narrow void. He waited for the group to gather and then led the way down the precarious stairway. All Taimin could hear was the sound of trudging feet and panting. He winced as he clambered down, and as soon as the stairway ended, took a few nettles out of his pocket and put them into his mouth. The taste was unpleasant, but he knew from experience that the pain would fade away.

Another passage wound along a natural seam in the rock. The ceiling rose and fell, along with the ground, forcing even Wielan to duck at times. Just when Taimin was wondering how long the tunnel could continue, Wielan put the rod back into his pocket. It was only then that Taimin realized the guiding light wasn’t needed anymore.

The walls drew apart to form a much wider tunnel, but that wasn’t what made Taimin’s mouth drop open. He saw thin veins that crept along the rock on all sides. The tendrils of green filament traveled in strange directions, branching and forking like the upper sections of a tree. Long gouges showed where the aurelium had been chiseled from the surrounding rock, but many veins remained. Even as Taimin walked along the tunnel, he gazed around in awe. The aurelium provided a cool light, easily enough to see by. He glanced back and saw his companions all reacting the same way, with the exception of Selena, whose expression was tight.

“It may be colder here than you are accustomed to,” Wielan said, speaking over his shoulder. “We can offer you blankets for the night.”

Their guide rounded another bend to reach a vast area. The walls were distant and the ceiling was an expanse of black overhead. The aurelium veins weren’t everywhere, but appeared in sections. Perhaps the skalen inhabiting the mountain had left them where they were to provide light.

Taimin saw more passing skalen, navigating through the immense cavern to enter one of several branching tunnels. Males walked with females; they all looked much the same as Wielan, and glanced curiously at Taimin’s group. Most carried tools: small pickaxes, chisels, and hammers. Buckets dangled from their hands.

Wielan took a tunnel with a smooth floor worn by the passage of many feet. It was only short, a hole burrowed through a thick wall of rock to connect the vast cavern with another that was even bigger. One by one, the five humans stepped out before stopping to stare.

This time the ceiling was so high, Taimin couldn’t even see it. The walls curved back and forth to form alcoves, each with a distinct purpose. The smell of smoke and cooking odors filled the air along with the buzz of conversation. Taimin saw skalen everywhere. Fire pits glowed red in some of the alcoves, surrounded by skalen tending to skewers resting on stands. Fat dripped from meat and hissed when it struck coals. Smoke rose up to disperse into the natural chimneys within the mountain.

In other alcoves skins hung to dry on tall frames. Skalen sat in circles, working with needle and thread to fashion garments or equipment. Woven mats made of plant fiber furnished the communal areas along with stools of polished stone and plump cushions. Younglings in a distant corner pounded with mortar and pestle. Tall looms displayed half-finished cloth.

“Come,” Wielan said.

He led the group to an alcove in a corner, far from the others. Taimin guessed that he and his four companions weren’t the first guests these skalen had hosted.

“You may sleep here,” Wielan said. “If you need to make water, follow that passage.”

The alcove designated for their use was a near-circular area, large enough for everyone to sleep in his or her own space. Rectangular mats woven with a diamond pattern meant they wouldn’t need to lay their blankets on the hard stone. A circle of rocks in the center surrounded a patch of blackened ground; clearly they were allowed to have their own fire.

As packs slid from weary shoulders and tumbled to the ground, Wielan watched for a time and then cleared his throat. “I hope this is to your satisfaction. I will take the meat and skins now.”

“This is perfect, you have our thanks,” Taimin said. The idea of spending the night in safety filled him with more pleasure than he could have imagined. But he also had to think about the journey ahead. “And the information?”

“Ah, of course,” Wielan said. “Forgive me. Wait here.” He hoisted the sack containing their weapons. “I will take this away, but your weapons will be returned to you when you leave.”

Taimin watched the skalen depart. As soon as Wielan was gone, he heard Selena’s voice.

“I don’t like it here,” she said. Rather than lay out her blanket, she peered askance up the wall, following it with her eyes to a series of aurelium veins that glowed and pulsed.

Lars glanced over at her while he rummaged in his pack. “Wielan will keep his word.”

“It isn’t the skalen,” Selena said. “It’s this place. It’s cold.” Her jaw was clenched tightly as she rubbed her arms. “I feel like I’m inside someone’s body, looking out at the blood flowing along the veins.”

Taimin opened his mouth, hoping to comfort her in some way, when he heard footsteps and turned to see Wielan returning.

“One of you, please come with me and we will give you whatever information we can.”

Taimin watched as his companions’ eyes moved until they rested on him. “I’ll go,” he said.

12

Wielan guided Taimin along more uneven tunnels. Some looked naturally formed, while others appeared to have been chiseled to widen seams already there. In places the walls had a texture like clay, softer than the stone that made up the bulk of the mountain’s interior. Taimin passed through more living chambers, divided by walls of rock to create separate rooms. The aurelium veins faded until they were gone altogether, but clay bowls containing the mineral rested in niches to provide light.

Taimin saw that Wielan was taking him toward a distant opening, carved into the form of a decorated archway. He had no idea where he was in relation to the mine’s main entrance, and was surprised to see the night sky through the archway. The temperature climbed, and he no longer felt cold. As he approached, a puff of warm, fresh air caressed his skin. Twinkling stars surrounded the pale face of the crescent moon.

Wielan came to a halt. “Please, go through. I will wait here.”

As he walked through the archway, Taimin came to a small ledge, high on the side of the mountain with a clear view of the surrounding landscape. A solitary skalen stood on the ledge.

The skalen turned. She wore a brown shawl draped over her stooped shoulders. Her skin was faded, mottled like moss on a smooth rock, and only three white feathers sprouted from her scalp. The tilted eyes that regarded Taimin had seen many years.

“I am Leeska, the oldest member of this clan, and you are Taimin. Wielan tells me that you require information. What is it you wish to know?”

Taimin gathered his thoughts. “We are traveling beyond this mountain, to a desert,” he began.

Leeska stretched out a thin arm to point. “That desert?”

Taimin turned and his breath caught. Past the mountain’s foothills, perhaps another few days’ travel, bright moonlight revealed an expanse of pale sand dunes. He couldn’t see much, but the knowledge that he had almost reached his destination filled him with both excitement and apprehension.

Leeska noticed his reaction. “Why journey to a desert? I cannot think why you would venture to a place so barren.”

He hesitated. “We believe we might find something where the desert meets the firewall. Is there anything you can tell me?”

She tilted her head. “About the desert? We have no reason to go there. I do know that there is another group of skalen you might visit. They live in some caves by the edge of the sands. They may know more.”

Taimin thought about the practicalities of the journey. “Are they friendly?”

“I do not know them. They keep to themselves.” She stared out at the landscape of hills and sand. “It is a strange place to live. There is at least one other inhabitant we know about. A mystic. The mystics in my clan avoid farcasting the area because they fear this other mystic’s power.”

“Is this mystic human? Is there danger?”

Leeska shrugged. “Human, yes. Danger? That depends on the human.” She regarded Taimin with curiosity. “You say you want to travel to the firewall. To what end? Surely I must be lacking in comprehension. The desert is barren and the firewall marks the limits of our world. The suns burn everything beyond.”

Taimin kept his face blank. “We’re following an ancient mystery.” As he saw Leeska’s look of skepticism, he decided to keep his explanation short. “If we find something worth sharing, you’ll be among the first to know.”

Leeska waited for a time, thinking, then gave another shrug. “Your plans are yours to share or keep to yourself. I am afraid, human, that there is nothing more I can tell you.” Leeska’s soft voice turned ominous. “I can, however, give you a word of warning. The time of the sandstorms is near. Even from this distance the winds scour the face of the mountain. You are traveling at a dangerous time.”

Taimin returned his attention to the desert. Of course he couldn’t see anything from so far away, but he had to believe there was a path through the firewall.

He thought again about Zorn. Someone had made the map. Someone had built the city. Then they vanished without a trace, long before Zorn came to be occupied by humans. Perhaps they were outside the firewall, living in a paradise, ready to welcome those trapped inside.

There had to be a way to reach the green lands beyond the wasteland.

Taimin was pensive as he thanked Leeska and left to rejoin Wielan.

“What did you learn?” Ruth asked.

Taimin sat down on one of the mats outside the circle of rocks. “Not much, but it’s something.” He explained about the mystic in the desert, the skalen living at its edge, and the coming sandstorms. When he was done, he looked over at Lars. “Any problems with the trade?”

“I’ve learned that skalen do like raptor meat,” Lars said, glancing sidelong at Vance. “It’s one of their favorite foods.”

“My point was that you didn’t know at the time,” Vance said.

Lars ignored Vance. “We’ve paid for our night’s stay and traded for some aurelium and kindling. We’ve got plenty of water. There isn’t much more we can do before we enter the desert.” He displayed a leather pouch to Taimin and opened it to show the contents. Glowing green shards peeked out from within. “Watch this.”

The skinner poured a few shards from the pouch, each the size of Taimin’s fingernail. When a small pile had formed on the blackened ground within the circle of stones, Lars then picked up a fist-sized stone and began to rub it in his hands.

Vance looked askance at Lars. In contrast, Ruth leaned forward, intrigued. Selena watched, tight-lipped and silent, as she had been since they entered the mine. Lars rubbed the stone vigorously, creating friction with his hands.

After a few moments Lars leaned forward to smash the stone down onto the aurelium shards. Vance jumped as Taimin heard a crackle. Red flames speared the air even as Lars whisked his hand away. Lars had a small pile of twigs on the floor beside him. He placed a twig over the flames, and then another, until a bright fire warmed the alcove and shadows danced on the walls.

Lars grinned. “Better than using a bow.”

Selena spoke in a low murmur. “I still don’t like it.”

“Someone’s coming,” Vance said.

Taimin turned and saw a skalen approaching. The skalen came to a halt and waited expectantly a short distance from the alcove. He was youthful, with clothing far dirtier than the other skalen Taimin had seen. Some accident must have befallen him in the past, for one of his eyes was missing, leaving behind a puckered hole, but it hadn’t affected his smile.

“It’s fine,” Taimin said. He climbed to his feet and walked over to Selena. He held out his hand. “Selena?” She glanced up at him, surprised. “Please. Come.”

She was too startled to resist as Taimin took her hand and pulled her to her feet. But there was anxiety in her eyes as he led her to where the one-eyed skalen waited.

“Taimin?” the skalen asked, giving a small bow. “I am Marus. Wielan asked me to see you.”

“Taimin . . . What are you up to?” Selena asked.

Taimin smiled at her. “I asked Wielan for a favor after I saw Leeska. Knowledge helps us banish fear. We might never get this opportunity again.” He nodded at the one-eyed skalen. “Marus is going to tell us about aurelium.”

Selena was even deeper in the mine. She had never liked dark places, nor feeling trapped, and couldn’t escape the sensation that the walls were closing in on her. She was in a confined space, a cavern that would have been utterly dark if it weren’t for the thick green veins that spread long, grasping fingers along the walls and over her head. She knew Taimin’s eyes were on her, and his expression was concerned, but she didn’t look his way. Instead, she tried to focus on her breathing to fight the gnawing fear. She knew it wasn’t real, but she couldn’t help imagining the green veins pulsing with every beat of her heart.

“Take a close look,” Marus said. He ran his reptilian fingertips along a wandering green line. Selena saw that chisel marks surrounded a place where the vein abruptly terminated. “What does it remind you of?”

“Blood moving through a body,” Selena said flatly.

“Anything else?” Marus asked.

Selena glanced at Marus, who was waiting with his one eye sparkling. He was clearly pleased to be explaining his passion to newcomers.

“Dried waterways,” Taimin said.

Selena tried to think clearly. “Sometimes on cliffs you see veins like it. Often they’re blue, or gray. It’s a mineral deposit.”

“Actually,” Marus said, “it is not.” He grinned at their reaction, revealing rows of small pointed teeth. “Metals do not glow. Aurelium is not a mineral at all.”

Taimin’s eyes went wide and then his brow furrowed. “So what is it?”

“Aurelium is an organism. A life form,” Marus said.

Selena saw Taimin staring at the veins as if seeing them for the first time.

“Or in truth,” Marus continued, “a collection of tiny life forms, each so small you can barely see the individuals. Try to look as close as you can.” He indicated an area.

Taimin stepped forward and put his eyes close to the wall. Biting her lip, Selena copied him. She peered into the green vein, but the strange light so close to her eyes made her dizzy. She had to pull her head away.

Taimin made a startled sound. “I think I can see them,” he said. He scratched the stubble on his chin. “But why does aurelium form veins?”

“Because the organism is hungry and needs sustenance,” Marus explained. “Aurelium eats metal. The veins are former mineral deposits that the organism has devoured. After eating the veins of metal, aurelium replaces it.” He smiled. “I brought this so I could show you.”

Marus held up a javelin with a wooden shaft and a metal head. He lifted the point and touched it to a place where the vein was thick and radiated a strong light. “Watch,” he said.

At first nothing happened. Selena frowned. When Marus waved her closer, she reluctantly took a step toward the place where the skalen held the javelin pressed against the glowing band of green in the rock wall. Curious despite herself, she leaned in and, without meaning to, brought her body close to Taimin’s.

He felt solid and strong. She wasn’t certain, but she thought he subtly moved, so that her hip pressed against his thigh and his face was near her hair. She thought she heard him take a long breath in through his nose.

“Do you see?” Marus asked, seizing Selena’s attention.

The change had been gradual, taking place in front of her eyes without her being aware of it. The green glow had seeped into the javelin’s head, so that part of the tip was made from aurelium, rather than metal. Marus took the weapon away from the wall to make it easier to see. As he displayed the head, Selena and Taimin were forced to step apart, and she experienced a stab of disappointment.

“There you have it,” Marus said proudly.

“Isn’t there a risk of explosion?” Taimin asked.

Selena remembered watching Lars use the shards of aurelium to start a fire.

“Only if we are extremely reckless,” Marus answered. “It is cold in here, which slows the aurelium’s volatility. Watch.”

Marus rapped the metal head against the wall. He didn’t hold back and applied a surprising amount of force. Selena winced, expecting to hear a crackle and see a burst of flame, but nothing happened.

“Now, let us try something else,” Marus said. He planted the butt of the javelin on the ground and held the point leaning slightly toward Selena. “Wrap your hand around the tip. The aurelium cannot harm you.” He gave a mischievous smile. “Not yet, at any rate.”

Selena took hold of the metal head, which was now part-aurelium. The metal was hard and cold, as cold as the air in the mine. The section eaten by the aurelium felt no different.

“You need to hold it until it is warm enough,” Marus said as he watched. He waited for a few moments and then nodded. “That should do it. You may remove your hand, Selena. And please step back.”

Selena let go, leaving Marus holding the javelin. He took several steps away from the walls until he judged he was far enough from both the onlookers and the glowing veins. Then with the weapon pointing down, he smashed the sharp head onto the floor.

A small flame appeared for a brief instant, accompanied by a short, sharp sizzle and a cascade of sparks that scattered across the stone floor. Marus held up the javelin. The green section was gone, leaving a chunk missing from the metal.

“And that’s all I have to show you.” Marus looked from face to face. “I hope it was of benefit?”

“Thank you,” Taimin said. He glanced at Selena, trying to gauge her reaction.

“I must be going, but if you wish to inspect the veins some more, this is a good place to do it,” Marus said. “You can find your way back?”

Taimin nodded. Selena took a deep breath as she felt a range of emotions. She managed to thank Marus—he had been nothing but kind—and held her tongue until the one-eyed skalen had left her and Taimin in the unnerving light of the small cavern.

Once Marus was gone, she narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t understand.” Taimin looked perplexed. “You were afraid. I thought that if you learned more . . .”

Selena crossed her arms. She took a step back and shook her head. “I told you,” she said. “I don’t like dark places. It’s not just this awful green light. I feel trapped in here.”

“Selena . . .” Taimin pleaded.

She took herself away from the confines of the cavern as quickly as she could.

13

The first glimmer of morning light cast long shadows from boulders and stone formations. It was early, and Ingren could barely make out the ground in front of her feet, but Ungar was eager, and walked with a fierce, determined stride. As they crossed the rugged plain, his gaze remained fixed on the horizon.

Back in the foothills, Ungar had found a mantorean traveling alone, battle-scarred and confident to be roaming without company. Ungar made his choice; mantoreans weren’t renowned fighters, which meant he may never find a better opponent. However, as Ungar swiftly fought and killed his prey, Ingren knew what would come next, and her bondmate was disgruntled when the fight was over. He left her to cure the mantorean’s strange head—shaped like an upside-down triangle, with beady eyes like black jewels—while he continued his search.

Soon after, Ungar earned his next trophy when he came across the tracks of a dozen skalen. They were heading away from the great canyon, and for most of a day he followed their scent until he caught his prey. The leader was tall and proud, with a neckpiece of glossy silver metal that signified his high status. Ungar killed them all and took the leader’s reptilian head.

Ingren now had four severed heads in her pack. Yet Ungar was dissatisfied. With the exception of the trulls and the bax, the fights had been too easy. Ingren had tried to manage his expectations; mantoreans and skalen were never going to be a challenge for a bonded warrior. But Ungar angrily turned his attention to his next hunt, which would be his last. This time, as he returned his thoughts to humans, he wanted to find an opponent to truly test his skills. He was desperate for a fight worth relaying to the marshals whose ranks he planned to join. His honor demanded he seek out a strong adversary. He was saving the best for his quest’s conclusion.

Ingren and Ungar both knew that humans were wily, adaptable, and infinitely varied. They started life weak but pliable, and as they grew they often specialized to a high degree. Experienced humans trained those lacking in ability. The older generation worked hard to pass their skills down to the next.

Ungar was desperate to find a human skilled in the art of combat.

Ingren panted as she walked and the lower muscles in her legs ached from trying to match Ungar’s pace. He barely looked back at her: the good mood he had enjoyed after taking his first two trophies had evaporated. Nor did he speak; he simply marched. Each step took him closer to his destination. He stepped over rocks without seeming to realize they were there. Ingren’s concern grew. She didn’t know what worried her more: that in his pursuit of glory he would put himself in danger, or that he would find his last opponent too weak and his quest would end in disappointment.

Soon the golden sun burst over the horizon, utterly changing the color of the landscape. The flat plain shifted from a dark expanse to its true shade: a rusted, dull brown. Ingren glanced over her shoulder to see that the rift valley had vanished behind them. As the red sun showed itself on the opposite horizon, Ingren felt like every bit of moisture was being sucked out of her. Dust skittered over the ground, pushed forward by a hot wind. Scavenger birds wheeled overhead, curious about the two horned creatures below, wondering if the pair might falter and provide sizeable carcasses to feast on.

The two suns continued to climb and the sky became a bright, vibrant blue. Ingren shaded her eyes when she thought she saw something on the horizon. She couldn’t be sure at first, but then she had no doubt.

It was a white tower, a tall spike rising up like a spear embedded in the distant plain. Shortly after, Ingren saw a broad encircling wall. Ungar said nothing, but his stride quickened.

Ingren and her bondmate would soon be at the outpost, the place the humans had called Zorn.

“Living within walls might have made them soft,” Ungar said. He scowled up at the top of the high wall facing them. “They are using this place to hide, to huddle together for protection.” When Ingren didn’t reply, he glanced at her. “What are you doing?”

“Taking it all in,” Ingren said.

The outpost was bigger than Ingren had expected. She and her bondmate were a short distance from the wall, within the orderly rows of cactus groves and fields of pink razorgrass. As with Ungar’s traditional costume, spear, and ceremonial knife, the outpost had intentionally been designed to look ancient, from another time. But what appeared to be simple white stone was actually a composite, reinforced with materials that gave it the ability to endure harsh sunlight, hot, dusty winds, and the decaying effects of time.

“I wish I could see what it is like inside,” Ingren said as she stared at the top of the soaring tower, just visible above the wall. “Before this quest I had only heard about it. Imagine what it must have been like, long ago.”

“Shh.” Ungar held up a hand.

He was peering through the cactuses, in the direction of the gates. Ingren turned her head to follow his gaze. She saw flashes of humans in the distance, walking in single file. The humans were dressed in a variety of costumes: tunics, smocks, and loose robes.

“More field workers,” Ingren said. She waited for a moment and then cast Ungar a sharp look. “This group is coming our way. What do we do?” She put strength into her voice. “Remember, bondmate, entering the outpost is not an option. Arrows may be primitive, but it only takes one to kill you.”

“What do you suggest, advisor?” Ungar demanded. “You know I will not be taking the head of a field worker.”

“We should hide,” Ingren said.

“Hide?” Ungar spluttered, as if he had never heard the word before.

Ingren grabbed his arm and dragged him toward a thick clump of tall razorgrass. She pulled her reluctant bondmate until they had both disappeared into the thickest section, and then she gave his wrist a hard squeeze.

The humans soon walked past. Workers old and young, male and female, headed through the fields, some alone, others talking as they traveled in pairs. The field workers carried tools of wood and bone, but nothing in the way of weapons. Evidently they felt safe so close to the outpost.

Ingren watched as the file of a few dozen workers thinned toward the end. Ungar’s rasping breath sounded far too loud, but the humans remained unsuspecting of the two bonded hidden in the razorgrass. She glanced at Ungar and saw him scowl at the passing figures. A few stragglers brought up the rear. Last of all was an old man, with sloping shoulders and a creased, tired-looking face.

Without warning, Ungar stepped out of the razorgrass.

He timed his lunge so that he wrapped his arm around the old worker at the exact moment he passed by. At least three feet taller than his target and more than double his weight, Ungar easily spun the old man and threw him down, so that the human was on his back on the open ground. Ingren shot a look toward the other humans, but they had already vanished ahead. She exited her hiding place and saw Ungar with his hand over the human’s mouth. The old worker’s eyes were wide with terror.

“Quiet,” Ungar growled. “And be still.”

Of course, the human couldn’t understand. Ingren formed her lips around the strange syllables spoken in the wasteland. “He is asking you to be quiet. And do not move so much.”

The old human stopped moving and became limp. His rounded eyes, so white compared to the red or black Ingren was familiar with, began to roll back into his head. Ungar gave him a vigorous shake and glared at Ingren. “Ask him who rules this place.”

“He wants to know who the ruler of Zorn is.”

The old man gasped. “Elsa,” he managed to splutter. His gaze was fixed on Ungar’s face, giving particular attention to his rows of sharp yellow teeth.

“Who is Elsa?” Ungar demanded, with Ingren relaying the questions and replies.

“She is our leader.”

“A woman?” Ungar’s eyes narrowed. “She is a strong warrior?”

“No . . . No!”

“There must be human warriors in the city.” Ungar grunted. “Fighters. Where are they?”

“Fighters?” the old man wheezed. He moaned when Ungar shook him again. “Like in the . . . arena?”

Ingren started when she heard mention of the arena. After all these years, it was still in use. “He said there are humans who fight in the arena,” she told Ungar.

“Yes, yes.” Ungar became animated. “Like that. Ask him who is the best of them all.”

“It isn’t used anymore,” the old man said when Ingren questioned him. His voice trembled when Ingren gave his answer and Ungar became angry, leaning his face down until he was staring into the man’s eyes. “Elsa stopped the fights!”

Ungar clenched his fists and for a moment Ingren thought he would bellow with rage. Fortunately, he kept his temper and instead gripped the old man by the shoulders.

“Who is the greatest human warrior? Tell me!”

Ingren relayed the question. The old man was completely pale. He didn’t seem to know how to answer.

“Who is the most skilled among you? Who is your best fighter?” Ungar became more and more frustrated.

“T . . .” The old man struggled to speak. He finally gasped out a single word. “Taimin.”

“Taimin. Where is Taimin?”

“I don’t know! He left the city.”

Ungar wrapped his thick, claw-like fingers around the old man’s throat. Unable to stop himself, he squeezed until Ingren heard a sharp crack. The old man twitched, and then became still.

“There are more workers in the fields,” Ungar said to Ingren. He straightened, ignoring the body at his feet. “Let us find another one.”

Ingren tried not to look at the dead girl, whose blank eyes, as blue as the azure sky, stared at her accusingly. Ungar was holding the girl high, with her back flattened against a broad cactus, as wide as the trunks of the ancient trees outside Agravida. Seeing she was dead, Ungar let go, and the girl’s feet struck the ground first. Her knees immediately buckled. She toppled with a thud.

Ungar was furious. Ingren didn’t like the way this quest was bringing out his dark side. He rounded on Ingren. “They all say the same thing. They all give the same name: Taimin. Yet no one knows where he is.”

“There will be others—”

“No,” Ungar spat. “How can I seek out some inferior warrior after I have heard this one man’s name repeated? He defeated the commander of the city guard. It must be him.”

“It is an impossible task, bondmate. There are countless humans who would match his description,” Ingren said, trying to talk some sense into her bondmate. “Dark human-hair. Young. Walks with an uneven stride.”

“The girl said something else,” Ungar said.

Ungar was right; there had been a term the girl used that Ingren had struggled to decipher. Ingren considered herself intelligent, and didn’t like not being able to understand.

It was something the girl had connected to the word for foot. That was a word Ingren knew.

Then it came to her. She spoke immediately, pleased to have made the translation.

“She said he has a crippled foot.” Ingren nodded. “That is why he walks with a limp.”

Ungar froze. “A cripple?” He stared directly into Ingren’s eyes. She wondered what he was thinking, and then she finally realized that they had both encountered Taimin before.

“I knew it,” Ungar whispered. “I knew the stars guided me all along.” He shook his head wryly. “I could have had the best human warrior’s head as my very first trophy.”

“But you said it yourself, he is a cripple.”

“It does not matter. He was skilled. He almost beat me.” He started to laugh, bringing forth a rumbling sound from deep within his chest. “This will make a fine tale indeed.”

“What?” Ingren tilted her head. Her heart sank. All she wanted was to go home. “What are you saying? There are plenty of humans here.”

“No,” Ungar said harshly. His laughter ended abruptly, and now he was glaring at Ingren with an expression she knew well. “This is my last hunt. It will be difficult, but nothing of worth is done without effort. I will return to where we last saw him, and I will track him down. Never underestimate my resolve, Ingren. I will have Taimin’s head.”

14

The desert stretched on as far as the eye could see, lit up by savage sunlight that reflected from the yellow dunes so that there could be no escape. The sand shifted underfoot, making travel difficult. Tall slopes had to be ascended before scrabbling down the other side. There was no shade, which meant no chance to sleep during the day, for it was far too hot for comfort. Taimin chewed on leaves and nettles. Determination kept him going.

Ruth made sure they drank sparingly from their water flasks. Thirst was always with them. The only respite came at night, when Lars lit fires to keep predators at bay. They took turns keeping watch, while the others tried to ignore the howls of roaming firehounds.

At first the terrain had been flat and barren, an expanse of gravel and dirt without a single cactus or shrub to break the monotony. Now the group was in a sandy area, close to the desert’s heart, where the dry wind blew the tops off the crests and grit got into everyone’s eyes. Taimin led from the front, generally alone. Vance brought up the rear.

Taimin heard Lars call his name and turned to see the skinner churn up the sand as he climbed to the top of the dune that Taimin was about to descend. Lars’s black beard was thick with dust and his bald head had tanned to the shade of leather. In his hand he clutched the map they had copied from the well room in Zorn.

“What is it?” Taimin asked, shocked at how hoarse his voice sounded.

“You haven’t noticed? Look at the sky ahead.”

Taimin’s position on the dune’s summit meant he had a clear view of the surrounding landscape. He realized something he should have already noticed. A horizontal band of pink clung to the horizon. Everywhere else the sky was blue.

Taimin had grown up near the firewall and knew what he was seeing. If they continued in their current direction, the strip of pink would grow in height. The shade of the sky would darken until it was as red as the crimson sun. When more of the sky was red than blue, and the ground ahead was black, the firewall’s edge would have been found.

“The firewall,” Taimin said. He took a deep breath. Their destination was almost upon them. He turned his attention to Lars. “How will we know when we’ve come to the right place?”

Lars indicated the map. “There are two landmarks. The marker sits right between them.” He pointed to the piece of paper. “A range of hills on one side. Three peaks on the other.” His voice was determined. “We’ll soon find out if there’s a way through the firewall.”

Taimin shaded his eyes. “I also don’t see any hills. Or peaks.”

“Our map hasn’t proved wrong yet. Keep looking.”

Taimin glanced back and saw Selena and Ruth both climbing the dune.

“How are you both holding up?” Taimin asked. He knew how weary he was.

“Fine,” Selena said.

“Ruth?”

Ruth wiped a hand across her wide mouth. Her lips were cracked and dry. “We’re almost there, aren’t we?”

“Just a little longer,” Taimin said. “We’ll take a short break, but then we need to keep moving.”

The worst of the heat began to leave the day as the crimson sun fled the sky, leaving Dex alone to scorch the five travelers foolishly crossing the desert. Conversation was absent. Each member of the group focused on marching over the undulating landscape of sand. Their journey was almost at an end.

As he walked, Taimin had been thinking about the darkness in the mountain and dreaming that he was cool. A sound broke through his reverie, and it took him a few moments to realize Ruth was calling out. He looked back and saw her pointing into the distance.

“Look, three peaks,” Ruth called.

Taimin followed Ruth’s gaze and saw three sharp triangular rock formations. He realized he might be nearer to the place marked on the map than he had thought. The firewall was certainly close. A thick strip of reddened sky now covered the flat horizon.

“What’s the other landmark?” Vance asked from behind Taimin.

“A range of hills,” Lars grunted.

Selena turned her head and pointed. “Like those hills over there?”

Taimin saw a distant series of ridges, knolls, and rocky outcrops. In the dry, still air, he could even make out detail. He heard Ruth cry out in excitement. Lars grinned. Vance punched his fist into the palm of his hand.

“The hills and peaks are ahead of us,” Taimin said. “We won’t make it today.” He met the eyes of each of his companions in turn. “But we will get there tomorrow.”

Three brown peaks like sharp, stony teeth stood clearly on the horizon. In the opposite direction, dusky hills signaled the end of the desert. Taimin gazed at the peaks, then turned around to look at the hills. As far as he could tell, he was standing directly between the two. The firewall now filled the sky, tinting it an ugly shade of red. Barely half of the sky was blue.

Taimin saw Lars scan the horizon, muttering under his breath. Ruth was climbing a taller dune, although the view wouldn’t be much better than from the high point where Taimin was standing. Selena frowned and turned in a slow circle.

Vance spat dust from his lips. He drank water from his flask and scowled. “There should be something here.”

Taimin didn’t know what to say. He could see nothing but sand dunes and the occasional patch of gravel or brown rock. The red sky was unbroken. Shielding his eyes, with the three peaks at his left and the range of hills at his right, he could even make out where the scorched earth began in the distance. His heart sank when he saw a continual expanse of blackened ground that went on and on until it vanished in a smoky haze.

Despair made Taimin’s shoulders slump. He had been a fool. Of course there was no way through the firewall.

“We were wrong,” Selena said softly. Her eyes met Taimin’s. “There is no passage.” Her voice became bitter. “Was it even real, what we saw? There can’t be a way through to something that doesn’t exist.”

“No.” Taimin shook his head. “I was with you. I saw it too. The firewall is a barrier. We both know it. There must be a way through.”

“Why mark something on a map if there’s nothing here?” Vance asked with a frown.

“If there was something we would see it,” Lars said. “There is no city, no passage, nothing. We should never have come. We’ve traveled all this way but there’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

Taimin’s heart sank. The journey had been his idea.

“This is my fault,” Selena said, echoing his thoughts.

“How is it your fault?” Taimin asked. He shook himself. He had to think. “Before we start blaming ourselves, let’s remember: there’s still a mystery here. Someone built Zorn. Someone made that map. Someone marked this place as special—”

Taimin broke off when he heard a cry. He turned to see Ruth on the next dune’s summit, waving her arms. As soon as she had their attention she beckoned again and then vanished down the other side.

Taimin and Selena exchanged glances. Something approaching hope made Taimin’s heart beat faster. Vance took long strides as his boots sank into the sand. Taimin and Selena hurried after him. Lars hesitated, but then came along.

Taimin panted as he climbed, but at least the next dune was firmer, packed rather than soft, so that he made swift progress. Even so, his chest was heaving by the time he reached the top and saw Ruth standing at the bottom of the dune, where a stretch of gravel gave way to a low, sand-filled gully. She was on her knees, wiping at the sand at the gully’s lowest point. As Taimin neared, he saw that she was revealing the surface of a buried object.

She frantically cleared the sand and her eyes gleamed with excitement. Taimin’s curiosity grew. Maybe they had found something after all. Something important enough for the builders of Zorn to mark it on the map. His spirits rose as he eagerly hurried down to join Ruth’s side.

As Ruth continued to remove sand, the surface of something smooth and hard grew bigger and bigger. The object was dull gray in color, and so far Ruth had cleared a square about three feet wide.

“What is it?” Vance asked, perplexed.

“Who cares what it is?” Lars scowled. “It’s nothing.”

Vance sank to his knees beside Ruth and joined her in clearing the sand away. As they worked, they exposed more and more of the gray surface.

Selena met Taimin’s eyes and he saw a familiar, determined look. He wondered what she was doing when she walked to a part of the gully twenty feet away. Sinking to her knees like Ruth, she began to dig. Taimin tilted his head; he heard the scraping sound of Selena’s hands when she struck something hard. Soon Selena had cleared her own region of sand. The afternoon light revealed another expanse of whatever it was, the exact same gray color as the section where Ruth and Vance were working. Selena rapped her knuckles against it. The returning sound was muffled, as if she were striking stone. The object was clearly hard.

And it was big.

“Does this mean anything to you?” Lars asked Taimin.

Taimin didn’t reply. He started to walk. Leaving the gully behind, he chose a direction at random and took determined strides, barely aware of his limp. He climbed a dune, and while descending the other side, spied another low point in the terrain. He headed over to the hollow and fell to his knees. He bent down and used both arms to pull, working to clear the sand away. He burrowed with his right hand, digging a tunnel until his fingers struck something hard. Soon he knew without doubt that the same gray surface rested under the sand in this place too.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Lars hurrying over to join him. The older man’s eyes widened when he saw Taimin move sand away with his arms to expose more of the smooth gray surface.

Taimin climbed to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “We need to see if it keeps going.”

Soon they had all dispersed to search the area. Taimin took a bearing and then walked until he could no longer hear his companion’s voices. The three peaks grew a little larger in his vision, while the range of hills fell away behind him. He climbed a hill and then stopped and stared.

He didn’t need to do any digging.

He was staring at the valley between two dunes, where a hard, gray surface stretched for at least a hundred feet. It was perfectly level, flat as the surface of a bucket of water. With quick footsteps he clambered down toward it, spilling sand at the edge where it was covered.

Soon he was walking on it.

Thoughts whirled through his mind. Bafflement was strong, but also determination to discover what it was he was standing on. To understand, he was going to have to take some risks.

He took a deep breath and then jumped into the air to land heavily on the thing buried under the desert.

The returning sound was dull.

He shook his head. He stood on the gray surface, in the center of the exposed area he had found, and turned in a circle. The surface was unmarked. Despite being buried under grit and gravel, there wasn’t a scratch on it.

He walked a short way and grabbed a fist-sized rock resting on the sand nearby. Returning to the gray surface, he sank to one knee and tried scraping the rock’s sharp edge against it. He couldn’t mark it in any way. He frowned and then made a decision. Lifting the rock over his head, he smashed it down hard, then peered at the gray material. The rock didn’t even leave an impression.

He climbed to his feet, utterly puzzled. Deciding to return to the others, he headed back toward where Ruth had first discovered the mysterious object buried under the sand. The golden sun’s rays beat hard on his back as he walked. He had covered a long distance, and pondered the situation during his return.

They had found something. But it wasn’t at all what he had expected. He was no closer to knowing what it was that the city’s builders had marked on their map.

Taimin saw Vance at the bottom of the gully Ruth had found, beside the patch of exposed gray surface. Lars stood nearby, and both looked perplexed as they talked in low tones. Vance smoothed his neat moustache and beard. Lars’s dark eyes were troubled.

“How far does it go?” Vance asked Taimin. “It seems to be everywhere.”

“I don’t know,” Taimin said. “But it can’t go on forever.”

Lars stood with legs apart and his thumbs hooked into his belt. “If you’re looking for Selena, she said she’s going to try to find out where it ends.”

Taimin turned to see Ruth heading their way. The healer was breathing hard. “Can you hear it?” she panted.

Taimin raised an eyebrow as he listened but shook his head. Then his eyes slowly widened. He realized he could hear something: a low, steady rumble. He crouched on the smooth gray surface and put his palm on it. He lifted his hand in surprise before planting it down again.

“What is it?” Vance asked.

“There’s a . . . vibration.” The quivering was gentle, but becoming stronger, and along with it the growing sense that something was humming, deep beneath the desert. Vance began to look alarmed; he could obviously hear it too. Taimin no longer had to place his hand against the strange material. The ground everywhere was trembling. The reverberations grew louder and louder. Taimin thought he heard a distant hiss and wondered if he should be worried. But then the sound died away, and the ground became still once more.

“What was that?” Vance asked.

“Taimin, Lars . . .” Ruth said slowly.

Taimin looked in the direction Ruth was staring. Vance made a sound of surprise. Lars put his hand on the axe at his belt.

There was someone watching from the top of the dune.

He was an old man, skinny but far from frail, with a lean face and sharp chin. He had gray hair and a wispy beard, and his skin was extremely weathered, making it hard for Taimin to guess his age. As Taimin wondered how long he had been watching, the old man realized that Taimin, Lars, Vance, and Ruth were all looking his way, and began to descend the slope toward them. His footsteps were slow, but he was nimble enough. The hot desert wind flattened his loose brown robe against his body.

Taimin exchanged a quick glance with his three companions. The stranger was unarmed, and didn’t appear to present any danger. Surprisingly, he also didn’t carry a pack, just a water flask at his waist. He clambered down until he came to a halt in front of them.

“It’s in the shape of a wheel, as far as I can tell,” the old man said. He squinted as he spoke and stared into each face, as if struggling with poor vision. “But there’s no use digging now, not with the sandstorms coming. They change the landscape every year.”

The old man’s manner was friendly and he spoke conversationally, despite the fact that they were in such an isolated place. Taimin wondered if he might be the mystic that the skalen Leeska had told him about.

“We expected to find a passage through the firewall,” Taimin said slowly.

“Or perhaps a city,” Vance supplied.

“City?” The old man’s gray eyebrows went up. “No, there’s no city. It’s a machine.” When Taimin frowned, he elaborated. “A contraption, built by intelligent hands to serve a purpose.”

“Who are you?” Lars demanded.

Taimin froze when he heard a voice. Rather than hearing it with his ears, the voice was in his mind, speaking inside his head.

My name is Milton, the voice said.

Lars, Vance, and Ruth obviously heard it too, because they looked as startled as Taimin. The old man put a hand to his mouth.

“My apologies,” Milton said. He gave a wry smile and spread his hands. “I don’t see a lot of people.” He harrumphed. “If you can call it seeing. The fact is, you’re all a little blurry to my eyes. It’s the same when I farcast. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, but it doesn’t to me.”

“How did you find us all the way out here?” Vance asked.

“And why?” Lars demanded.

“I farcasted you, of course. Five people, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You said you know what this is?” Taimin asked, indicating the gray surface.

“Well, in a way. I’ve been digging in this area for thirty years.” Milton tugged on his scraggly beard. “In all honesty I haven’t dug much in the last decade. I still try to find a way inside, but I’m getting old now.”

Taimin spied movement and turned to see Selena descending a slope to join them. Taimin was blocking her view, and she initially didn’t see Milton standing with the group.

“It just keeps going—” Selena called. Then she stopped in her tracks when she realized there was a stranger with the group. As she resumed her approach, she tilted her head. “What’s happening?”

“This is Milton,” Taimin said. “He says he knows what it is we’ve found.”

“Five of you.” Milton nodded. “At least I got that right.” He opened his arms in welcome. “My homestead isn’t far. Why don’t we head there before it gets dark? My guess is we’re all after the same thing. I’m happy to offer you whatever hospitality I can.”

15

Selena felt strange from the moment she entered Milton’s homestead.

A wall made of piled-up stones encircled the house, cactus grove, and lizard enclosure. The house was sturdy, which gave her a sense of safety and protection from the howling wind outside. The homestead also wasn’t far from the edge of the firewall. It was an inhospitable place, but the old mystic had clearly managed to keep himself alive. Milton’s manner was friendly. It wasn’t that Selena thought she was in any kind of danger.

It was something about the round table that dominated the tidy interior, made from the trunk of a big sentinel cactus, and the smell that came from the hearth that burned with a few smoky embers. She was confused. She couldn’t place the feeling.

The house’s interior was crowded but they made the best of it. Milton bustled near the hearth, where steam rose from an iron pot filled with water.

“Please,” he said, waving an arm vaguely. “Sit wherever you like while I make tea.”

Everyone found a place to lean or sit near the round table, with the exception of Selena, who remained standing. She frowned as she stared in all directions and wondered about Milton’s story.

“How did you come to be here?” she turned and asked him.

Milton wrapped a cloth around the hot pot, taking it away from the coals to set it down on a bench. “My dear,” he said. “Pass me the tea, if you don’t mind. It’s—”

Glancing immediately to a bench at waist height, Selena grabbed a ceramic bowl with a closed lid. She passed it over.

“And the cups,” he said, “just below—”

He trailed off with a quizzical expression as Selena went straight to a shelf underneath the bench and began to place a collection of carved wooden mugs in front of him.

“Thank you,” Milton said.

He swiftly made a cup for each of his guests and handed them around. He then leaned back against the bench and looked at each face watching him.

“I can see that you’re searching for answers. You’ll want to know what I’ve learned about the machine, and I have some questions for you too.” He combed his fingers through his wispy beard. “I suppose I should start at the beginning, or close to it.” He cleared his throat. “My wife and I were mystics. Not just any mystics . . . Sarah and I knew we had both talent and strength.” His eyes developed a faraway look. “We tested our skills on each other and together we explored the world, both physically and apart from our bodies.”

As Milton’s voice became hoarse and he cleared his throat again, Selena thought about the block on her farcasting. Milton had said he was a strong mystic . . . perhaps he could help her.

“Once, Sarah and I tried to reach as high as we could.” Milton shrugged. “We were young and foolish, and did it despite the danger. That was when we learned what we could never have known before: that the firewall is in fact a barrier that keeps us from a beautiful world, a lush world, nothing like this wasteland we inhabit.”

Selena met Taimin’s eyes. “We saw the same thing,” she said.

Milton’s face registered surprise. “You’re both mystics?”

“Just her,” Taimin said, with a nod at Selena. He smiled wryly. “It’s a long story.”

Something occurred to Selena. “Did you see the map in Zorn too?”

Milton nodded. “In our travels, many years ago now, Sarah and I visited Zorn. The Protector showed us a map, in a room below the tower he lived in. The map led us here. We began to wonder if the tales of the afterlife were instead memories from a distant past. Maybe Earth has its origin on the other side of that barrier.”

“And what you discovered here, buried under the desert . . . you called it a machine?” Taimin asked.

Milton nodded. “Clearly the machine was made by those who built Zorn. I also believe that the firewall is nothing natural. What does the machine do?” He glanced at each face in turn. “Is it not obvious? The machine maintains the firewall.”

Milton smiled at the startled sounds that greeted his words.

“You would have worked it out for yourselves in time,” he said. “Did you hear any rumbling? Hissing?” Vance and Taimin both nodded slowly. “The machine is located right beside the firewall, and when it exhales through its vents, it releases extremely hot air.” He pulled the sleeve on his right arm to reveal wrinkled pink-and-white skin between his wrist and elbow. “I can show you, if you like. It’s not like the vents are hard to find.”

“Where is your wife now?” Ruth asked.

Milton sobered. A mingled expression of shame and guilt tightened his eyes. “She died.”

“What happened?” Lars grunted. “You were attacked out here?”

“No,” Milton said. “It was much worse than that.” He paused for a long time, while the silence dragged out. When at last he spoke, he wouldn’t meet any of their eyes. “I once had a daughter, before the fates took her from me.” He set his mouth in a thin line. “Like I said, the machine has vents. Sarah and I, we tried for years to find a big one. We wanted to get inside, to discover the truth about the machine and this world we live in.” As he spoke, his face looked ever more drawn. “One day, we were digging. We turned our backs for just a moment. That’s when we learned . . . The vents are small, but not too small for a four-year-old child. In a heartbeat my little girl fell down the sand and the machine ate her up. From that moment until the day Sarah died, we doubled our efforts to find a way in.”

“Your wife, Sarah . . .” Selena pressed. She was watching him intently. “What happened to her?”

Milton’s expression became sad. “She searched until it killed her. There was nothing I could do. A sandstorm took her.”

Selena’s heart was racing. For a moment, she struggled for breath. No one was looking at her. Everyone was watching Milton. As her thoughts whirled, she tried to look anywhere but at him.

That was when her eyes drifted to a high shelf. When her gaze rested on an object, she felt a painful squeezing on her chest.

It was a rag doll, sitting alone and bereft at the back of the shelf.

Without conscious effort, Selena walked straight over until she was reaching up to it. She took down the rag doll and stared at it. The doll comprised little more than a domed head, thin arms, and a crude dress covering the rest. Sooty circles designated the eyes.

“Emily,” Selena said, not realizing until she had said the doll’s name that she had spoken it out loud.

She put a hand over her mouth and then turned. All eyes were on her.

“How do you know that name?” Milton asked, his expression the most shocked of all.

Now Selena knew why this place felt so strange. She was able to see that Milton’s face was anything but unfamiliar, and could picture his gray hair as dark, and shorter. She imagined him with a straighter posture, no beard, and a manner of passionate intensity.

Milton’s chest was heaving as he stared at her. “Selena?”

Audible gasps filled the room as Selena nodded. Her eyes burned.

Her entire world crashed around her.

Selena was alone, by choice, outside the house she had grown up in. She searched desperately as she followed the homestead’s outer wall. As she passed the lizard enclosure, where several rock lizards the size of her arm roamed and searched for bugs, she finally found what she was looking for.

Milton—her father—had told her where she would find her mother’s grave. Selena stopped and faced a long rectangle, sectioned off by a perimeter of pebbles. A stone marker stood vertically at the top of the rectangle: a headstone.

There was nothing carved on the headstone, nothing to distinguish it other than some desert flowers pinned at its base with a rock. Selena stood looking at the grave and she knew who it had belonged to, although she had no memories of Sarah, the woman who had been her mother. She didn’t even know what her mother had looked like.

After staring at the headstone, she took a deep breath and stared up at the timeless stars, trying to understand what it was she was feeling.

Glittering dots of light, ranging in shade from gold to pale blue, gazed down at her. With the air so clear and dry, they filled the sky, and the moon was at Selena’s back, so that she had nothing else to disturb her view. She saw a flash as a piece of light streaked across the firmament, so swift it was gone before she could focus on it. There was something wistful about the shooting star. For a moment it had been bright and full of life. Then it was gone. Forever.

Another shooting star appeared soon after, this one much slower, traveling at a steady, flickering crawl. The slow ones were much more common than the fast ones, and she wondered if there was some metaphor there about life.

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Milton approaching. He came to stand beside her and then, without saying anything, he opened his arms. Selena’s eyes filled with tears as she and her father embraced. They held each other for a long time.

“I know this feels strange,” Milton murmured. “It’s strange for me too.”

After their embrace, Selena met his eyes. It was an effort to keep her voice steady. “Tell me about her. What was she like?”

He glanced at the headstone for a moment. “She had eyes like yours. Different colors. And black hair, even darker than mine. She was brave, and intelligent, and loyal. We had our arguments, but she understood why I brought us here. By the rains, she loved you.”

Selena’s breath trembled, but she managed to still the sensation of choking until it was gone. She looked up at the stars again and took slow, steadying breaths.

“You were always fascinated by the stars,” Milton said. “You would lie on your back and stare up at them for hours.” As something occurred to him, he tugged on his beard and became excited. “I have an idea. Your mother. Would you like to see her?”

Selena was startled, taken by surprise. “You can show me an image of her?” Passing an image was a skill that mystics possessed. Selena had used it more than once.

“No.” Milton smiled. “I have a better idea. I can show her to you the way that you saw her.”

“Oh.” Disappointment sank through Selena’s chest. “I have a block. I won’t be able to do it.”

Milton frowned. “A mystic’s power can be walled off, but never taken away. Whatever you’re experiencing, there is a way to resolve it.” He cleared his throat. “At any rate, I can do this whether you’re a mystic or not. I can help you to revisit your own memories.”

Selena remembered when she saw Blixen’s memories, and those of her enemy, Arren. Her pulse quickened. All of a sudden, she desperately wanted to see what Milton could show her.

Milton reached out and took her hands. “This will work best if you close your eyes.”

Four-year-old Selena sat on the floor, close to a kneeling, black-haired woman with a kind, heart-shaped face. Her mother, Sarah, had odd-colored eyes, one green and the other brown. She wasn’t young, and had thin lines in her forehead. Dimples carved her cheeks as she smiled and held a rag doll up in front of Selena’s eyes.

“What else does she need, Selena?”

Selena thought quickly. “Eyes.”

“That’s right.” Her mother’s smile widened. “She needs eyes, or she won’t be able to see.” Lifting a piece of charcoal, Selena’s mother brought it close to the doll’s face, but then she paused. “Here, my love. You do it.”

Selena took the rag doll and lump of charcoal but then hesitated. “What if I do it wrong?”

“Don’t worry. She’s a special doll. She’ll be able to see no matter what.”

Selena drew a little circle near the top of the doll’s head, and then a second. She glanced up and grinned when she heard her mother’s voice.

“Well done! She just needs one last thing. Can you guess what it is?”

Selena screwed up her face. When it occurred to her, she clutched the doll and beamed at her mother, proud that she hadn’t needed to be told. “She needs a name!”

“That’s right! What would you like to call her?”

“Emily.”

Standing under the stars, in the middle of a windy, dusty desert, Selena opened her eyes. Milton stood beside her. A grave lay at her feet.

Milton reached out and stroked the side of Selena’s face. She realized tears were pouring down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Selena wiped the tears away. “Don’t be. I’ve wanted that my entire life.”

“There is something else.” He hesitated. “I’ve always wanted to know what happened to you. The machine swallowed you—then what? The fact that you’re standing here today means you must have found a way out. Do you feel strong enough? Can we look?”

Selena was afraid, but she nodded. Milton took her hands, and once more she closed her eyes.

Terror. Sheer and utter terror. Bright green light. Selena shielded her eyes and tried to see past the light. She was lost. Her face was dry and salty, but she had done all of her crying a long time ago. Her throat was so sore. She couldn’t call out anymore. Not for her mother. Not for her father.

Gray walls. Gray floor. The same everywhere.

Wait.

Rock. The brown rock immediately drew her attention. She was too afraid to feel hope.

She walked toward the broken rock and strewn gravel. She saw a passage, and followed it to an opening.

A puff of dry desert air. Normal light, golden rather than green.

She stumbled toward the daylight.

Selena couldn’t continue. The emotion was too overwhelming, the fear and sense of abandonment too strong. As she took a series of gasps Milton stared into her face, concerned.

He didn’t say anything. Time passed. At last Selena’s breath evened out. Her pulse stopped racing.

She stared into the distance. “I’ve never liked dark places,” she said softly. “Or feeling trapped.”

“We should go back inside,” her father said. “I think that’s enough for today.”

Selena glanced again at her mother’s grave. She didn’t want to be left with the terrible experience she had gone through at such a young age. She wanted to return to the warmth and love in her mother’s eyes.

“I want to see her again . . . the very last time I saw her.”

Milton combed his fingers through his wispy beard. “Perhaps it’s better if—”

“The last time I saw her.” Selena put strength into her voice. “Please.”

Milton reluctantly nodded.

Selena was on her hands and knees while her fingers clutched the lip of a hard gray surface. She peered into the hole in front of her. Her heart raced when she heard a distant rumbling and a sound of rushing air that became louder and louder.

“What can you see?” her father asked.

“It’s dark,” Selena said.

“Can you put your head inside?”

“I don’t want to.” Selena was afraid.

“Just for a moment, Selena. We have some time before the hot air comes.”

“Where’s Mother?”

“She’s just over there, see?”

Selena lifted her head. She saw her mother in the distance, standing with her back to Selena and her father. Her mother’s long black hair blew in the wind as she stretched and drank from a water flask.

“Put your head inside,” her father insisted. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just do it quickly. Lie on your stomach and slide forward. Here, you can feel my hands. I’ll hold your ankles.”

Selena wanted to make her father happy. She wished that she wasn’t so frightened. As she followed his instructions and placed her head inside the vent, darkness surrounded her.

She heard her mother scream her father’s name.

Her mother’s voice became louder. She must be running. There was a sudden scuffle. Someone tried to seize Selena’s legs, but rather than yank her away, they shifted her legs’ position. Selena felt herself sliding forward. She tried to move but only made things worse.

Thudding heartbeats. Tumbling. Fear. Ragged fear.

Milton stood with his hand over his mouth and his face stricken by horror.

The blood had drained from Selena’s face. For a moment, she struggled to speak. “You said I fell down the sand.”

Milton’s voice was hoarse. “I said you slipped.”

“That’s not what happened.”

Milton spread his hands imploringly. “Selena. Listen to me. Not a day has gone by when I haven’t blamed myself for losing you. I tried everything to get you back.”

“You were obsessed with the machine.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I was.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’ve had many years to blame myself. I would take it all back if I could.”

Selena shook her head. There was nothing she could say.

Making a decision, she turned away from the man who was her father, but was also a stranger. As she headed toward the entrance to the house and the people who knew her best, Milton called after her.

“Selena?”

She glanced back at him.

“I can help you. With the block on your talent. You’re the daughter of mystics. That’s who you are.”

Despite her block, and all the problems her abilities could help her solve, she knew she didn’t want his help. “It’s for me to say who I am.”

16

The next morning, after a troubled sleep, Selena found Milton once more at the table with Taimin, Lars, Vance, and Ruth. She took a seat near Taimin, who met her eyes. They had spoken together late into the night.

Selena didn’t say anything. Conversation was already underway.

“So, we all know that we’re prisoners of the wasteland,” Milton was saying. “Why am I here? Why dig for thirty years? Because if we can get inside the machine . . .” He spoke vehemently. “We might find a way to break it.”

Selena watched Milton, and now she could see the obsession that had driven him as a younger man. So much had happened so quickly. While everyone discussed the strange machine buried under the desert, her head was spinning.

She reminded herself that what they were doing was important, more important than the fact that her father’s recklessness had changed her life forever.

They had all travelled a long way to escape the wasteland. But rather than a small path to freedom, focused on one point in the firewall, they had found the very thing that maintained the firewall’s existence. The possibility of a better life was still there. If the machine could be destroyed, the firewall would be gone forever.

Taimin rubbed his chin. “But we still haven’t answered who the builders were.”

Milton spread his hands. “In truth, I don’t know.”

“Ever seen a nine-foot tall monster with horns?” Vance asked.

Milton was clearly perplexed.

“We were attacked by two creatures of an unknown race,” Taimin explained. “Giants, I suppose you might call them.”

“Does it matter?” Lars asked. “Perhaps the builders are long gone. The fact is, if we’re all prisoners of the firewall, we owe it to ourselves to bring it down.”

Selena cleared her throat. “I found a way out. Somewhere with broken rock. There’s obviously a way in, we just need to find it.”

Milton tried to meet Selena’s eyes. “It can’t be anywhere close. Over the years, we sifted through every grain of sand in the desert. We never stopped searching for you, Selena. The entrance must be hidden, or we would already have found it.”

“What’s the extent of the machine?” Ruth asked. “How big is it?”

“It’s huge,” Milton said, opening his arms wide.

Lars lifted his dark gaze. “Could it be as far away as the hills? Or the three peaks?”

“I suppose it could be, yes.” Milton nodded. He fingered his beard. “I’ve traded once or twice with the bax who live in the hills. Asked them about the machine, of course, but they made it clear they’re afraid of it and stay away. They may know more. I was concentrating on digging. It changes things now that we know without doubt there’s an entrance.”

“What about the skalen at the three peaks?” Taimin asked.

“They moved there only recently, sometime in the last ten years. I don’t know much about them, really. I didn’t see much point in risking my life to visit.”

“They’ll know more than we do,” Lars said, glancing at Taimin.

“Then we have a plan,” Taimin said. “If we visit the two groups, and say we’ve come to trade, we’ll get a chance to ask questions and look around.”

A sudden wind howled outside, buffeting the small house as a gust swept throughout the room.

“What about sandstorms?” Ruth asked.

“I’d forgotten.” Milton’s jaw tightened. “They’re coming any day. We don’t have long.”

Selena saw Milton look her way again. She wondered how he felt, what he was thinking.

Then she heard a voice.

The machine stole you from me. Milton’s voice spoke inside her head. But now you’re back, and we can solve this together.

Selena felt color come to her cheeks. She knew he was trying, but she wasn’t yet ready to forgive him.

“So what’s our plan?” Vance asked.

Selena realized she needed to shape events. She spoke firmly. “We’ll need to split up if we want to talk to the bax and the skalen before the sandstorms come. It makes sense.” She avoided looking at Milton. “I’ll go with Taimin and Ruth.”

Milton didn’t look happy. “But, Selena. I can help you—”

“I should go with Milton and Lars,” Taimin interrupted. He gave Selena a wry smile. “We might as well put the slowest people together. The peaks are a little closer, so we’ll go and talk to the skalen. Selena, Ruth, and Vance, you can go to the hills. Any arguments?”

Taimin looked at each face in turn. Milton’s face was sad, but he didn’t protest any further.

“We’ll leave as soon as we can.” Taimin turned to Milton. “Do you have anything we can offer in trade?”

“Some old leather and firehound horn. I can’t think of anything else.”

“How about I slaughter a few of your lizards?” Lars asked. “We can salt the meat.”

“Milton?” Taimin raised an eyebrow.

The mystic gave a reluctant nod. “If it helps us find what we’re looking for.”

“Thank you,” Taimin said to Milton. He swept his gaze across the group. “Remember, our plan is to attempt trade and get whatever information we can, nothing more.”

“And if we find a way in?” Milton asked. “If we can destroy the machine?” He stared directly at Selena. “Because of that thing, I lost the chance to watch my daughter grow. I lost my wife. I can only speak for myself, but if I do find an entrance, I won’t wait for anyone.”

17

A strengthening wind, low and dry, skittered across the sands, carrying the finer grains through the air. Taimin stopped to sip some water and grimaced as bits of grit stung his eyes and skin. He squinted at the peaks, which were now much larger. The three formations, made of brown rock, thrust their jagged tips into the sky. A long ridge obscured their bases, but Leeska had mentioned caves.

Milton was nearby, and Taimin glanced at him when the ground rumbled. It wasn’t the first time, and Milton, who was obviously used to it, didn’t react at all.

“Taimin.” Lars’s voice rose over the wind. “You have to see this.”

The skinner stood at the top of a knoll covered in small stones. Returning his flask to his hip, Taimin called to Milton and headed toward Lars. Gravel rolled beneath his feet as he climbed.

When he reached Lars, Taimin gazed down the hill’s other side. His eyes widened.

He was looking at the biggest portion of the machine he had seen yet.

The vast swathe of dull gray filled a broad valley between two hills. Sand had spilled onto the flat surface at the edges and a few grains were littered across it, blown over by the wind.

The vibrations beneath Taimin’s feet grew stronger and the rumbling sound became louder. The sound reached a crescendo.

All of a sudden, a split appeared in the smooth surface. Taimin was sure it had been solid, without any seam or break. But now there was a square panel sliding open to reveal darkness. He watched as the window into the machine’s heart revealed itself. The hole was too small for anyone but a child to enter.

Milton spoke at Taimin’s side. “Keep watching,” he said. “This is going to be one of the fast ones.”

The ground continued to rumble. Then, without warning, a powerful hiss made Taimin want to clap his hands over his ears. A blast of air shot out of the opening. Smoke and steam, tinged red, rushed vertically into the sky. Even from where Taimin was standing, a wave of heat punched into his face. A final puff of smoke finished it off. The panel snapped closed.

Lars let out a breath. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said.

The red sun hovered above the desert. The golden sun continued its passage across the sky, which displayed more blue than it had near Milton’s homestead. If Taimin turned, however, he didn’t have to squint to make out the firewall. The strip of pink sky clung ominously to the horizon.

As the three peaks grew in Taimin’s vision, he knew it was time to discuss plans. “We shouldn’t reveal what we’re looking for unless we all agree,” he said, glancing at his two companions while he walked. “We should keep things simple to begin with.”

Lars nodded. “Makes sense.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” Milton said. “I don’t know much about skalen.”

“We’ve met a few in our time,” Taimin said with a sidelong look at Lars. He returned to Milton. “At any rate, they might be friendly, but when we first meet them we need to be cautious. It’s best if we initially discuss trade.”

Milton nodded. “Understood.” He paused. “I need to get the sand out of my boots.” He nodded toward the peaks. “Keep going. I’ll catch up.”

“We can wait—” Taimin began.

“Not with sandstorms coming,” Milton said. “Go on.”

Taimin raised an eyebrow at Lars, who shrugged. As Taimin and Lars left Milton behind, Taimin couldn’t help but remember what Selena had told him. Her father had been with her when she fell into a vent, like the one they saw earlier. She was only four years old. If anyone was to blame, it was Milton.

He understood why there was a bitter taste to what could have been a joyful reunion. At the same time, he hoped Milton and Selena would be able to start afresh.

Looking over his shoulder, where Milton was pulling his boots back on, Lars muttered, “I’m not sure if I like him.”

Taimin gave the skinner a dry smile. “You don’t like anyone.” He took a sip of water from his flask. “You should make an effort. He’s Selena’s father.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Lars grunted. “Just because someone is a mother or father doesn’t mean I have to like them. The rains know my own father was someone I couldn’t wait to get away from.”

“What has Milton done to you?”

“Nothing.” Lars paused. “But how do you lose your own child?”

Taimin spoke softly. “I have no doubt that he’s spent every moment since then filled with regret.”

Taimin couldn’t help but think about his own upbringing. Before they were taken from him, his parents had shown him nothing but love, and Abi had raised him as best she could. But perhaps all parents made mistakes, some of them with dire consequences.

“You’re right,” Taimin said. “He lost his wife and daughter. The way I see it, there’s nothing worse that can happen to a man. Selena is the one who has to work through this.” Seeing Milton catching up, he glanced at Lars. “Try to make an effort.”

“What now?” Milton asked.

The three men stood on a ridge, an escarpment that encircled a large, wide basin. The bowl-shaped gully contained all three of the tall rock formations, but despite the fact that they each cast a long shadow, they weren’t equal in size. The largest was twice the height of the others, with a sharp point like the tip of a blade. Its companion nearby, the next in size, had a jagged top that looked like it had sheared off at some time in the past, leaving a cluster of boulders near its base. The third rock formation was the smallest, with a shape like a man holding his knees as he huddled against the steep wall of the basin.

Every one of the three peaks had a cave mouth at its base.

The cave at the bottom of the highest peak was wide but narrowed toward its top, giving it a sharp, triangular shape that matched the tall summit. The next peak had a wider, square entrance at ground level. The last peak, close to the opposite wall, displayed an entrance that was easily the smallest of the trio, little more than a narrow gash. The size of the openings said nothing about what might lie beyond them.

Taimin scanned the rest of the basin. A few dozen cactuses had confusingly manlike shapes, but so far, he couldn’t see any movement. “Let’s approach,” he said. “Keep your hands visible.”

He led the way, heading to a place where the descent was easier. He took his time and made careful side steps, and although pain was always with him, as gravel tumbled down the slope he managed to keep his footing. Casting frequent glances at the caves, he wondered when the skalen would show themselves, and tried to figure out which of the three openings they might come out of.

As Taimin reached the bottom, followed closely by Lars and Milton, the nature of the daylight changed, becoming low and red. With Dex’s golden light rapidly fading, it was Lux’s turn to bathe the land, creating a false night, a time when brightness was gone but darkness was yet to come.

Taimin walked with caution through the grove of cactuses. He continued to look one way and then another, and made sure to keep his hands visible, well away from the hilt of the steel sword he wore at his waist. Lars was wise enough to do the same thing, and Milton, as he had been when they met, was unarmed.

First one, then another skalen exited the largest of the three peaks.

In appearance they were much the same as the skalen in the mine. They walked with graceful movements as the crimson sun burnished their diamond-patterned skin. Both males and females wore cloth tunics, leather belts, and tight trousers tucked into boots that covered their calves. Feathers sprouted from their crowns and their flat faces appeared somewhat expressionless. There was one difference, however, from the skalen that Taimin had last encountered. These skalen were all armed and carried javelins poised above their shoulders.

Taimin and Lars exchanged glances. Disconcertingly, the dozen warriors were already fanning out to envelop the three humans. Their tilted eyes looked hostile. The tip of every javelin glowed green with destructive aurelium.

As Taimin waited, his heart began to beat faster. He rested his gaze on one skalen, tall for her kind, who he assumed was the leader, given her neckpiece of glossy silver metal and the way the others flanked her.

The tall leader lifted her chin and stood with legs apart. Unlike her warriors, she didn’t carry a javelin; instead, she bore a dagger in a sheath at her waist. She had a proud, imperious air, and gold-flecked eyes that glinted red when they caught the rays of the crimson sun. Her nostrils flared and then her mouth parted to flash bright white, pointed teeth. Taimin noticed tiny shards of aurelium on her necklace; no mystic would be able to enter this skalen’s mind.

“You are in our territory, humans.” The leader’s voice trailed off with a hiss. Her followers had almost encircled the three men. “Keep moving and we will let you live.”

Taimin’s mouth was dry. “We are travelers,” he said, keeping his expression earnest. “We were recently hosted by another clan. They told us you might be willing to trade as we pass through.”

The leader tilted her head. “You have metal?”

Taimin glanced at Lars and then shook his head. “No,” he said. “We have meat, firehound horn—”

“We want none of those things,” the leader snapped. “And as I can plainly see, you do have metal. I have noted the weapon by your side.” Near the hilt, Taimin’s leather scabbard didn’t quite cover the blade. His sword was clearly made of steel.

Taimin looked down at his waist, then again at the tall leader. The sword had once belonged to Galen, the commander of Zorn’s city guard. Not only was steel both rare and valuable; he had nothing to replace it. “I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “It is not available for trade.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed. “Then we want nothing from you. Move on.”

Milton looked like he was about to say something, but his mouth snapped shut when Lars cast him a swift look.

“Please.” Taimin softened his tone. “At least see what we have.”

Lars indicated that he wanted to slip his pack off his back. The leader gave a sharp nod, and Lars displayed his open pack. “We have lizard meat, bone powder, leather, firehound horn . . .”

As Lars named his goods the skalen leader’s expression was inscrutable. She turned away to confer in low tones with her companions before returning her attention to the three humans. “We can give you a small amount of aurelium, but it will not be more than a few scraps. What we want is metal.”

Taimin reminded himself of the true purpose of their visit. They needed information, and the caves were promising. “Understood. However, we have been traveling for a long time. Can we talk away from the heat?”

The tall skalen murmured to some of her warriors once more. Then her haughty expression firmed. Taimin’s heart sank.

“I have changed my mind. You must leave.”

Taimin clenched his jaw. Meanwhile Lars waited until he had Taimin’s attention and then looked pointedly at Taimin’s sword.

“Fine,” Taimin said. Moving slowly, watching the skalen leader in front of him, he lifted the hilt of his sword to display the naked steel. “I will consider my sword for trade, but I promise you it will be a hard bargain.”

The skalen leader’s expression shifted quickly. Now she appeared pleased. “Excellent. My name is Kash. I am clan leader. I agree it will be more pleasant inside.”

As with the mine in the mountain, the cave’s entrance was elaborately carved. Taimin walked through, turning his head to stare in all directions. The cavern’s interior was far larger than he had expected. Vast and irregular, it had multiple alcoves, separated into spaces with different purposes.

Once inside, Taimin rubbed the skin on his arms. Something else reminded him of the mine. Sheltered by thick rock on all sides, the cavern’s interior made him wish for warmer clothing.

Aware that he might have entered a dangerous situation, he continued to cautiously look everywhere without making it obvious. The cavern was shaped like a rough pyramid, with a towering ceiling at its highest point. It was hard not to notice the proliferation of aurelium lamps. Clay bowls filled with glowing shards occupied niches and rested on tables and benches, spreading green light throughout each area. Remembering all the times Taimin had seen Lars create fire, he supposed that with their fondness for aurelium, it made sense for skalen to seek out cool places.

Like a smaller version of the living quarters in the mountain, functional nooks made use of the natural ripples in the rock. He saw a big fire pit in its own section, a short distance from the entrance. A circle of cushions surrounded the pit, which was unlit and untended. A huge leather hood above it would capture smoke.

As Taimin followed the clan leader, he glanced toward another alcove containing cloth stretched on frames. Meat hung on hooks in farther sections. A rack of javelins stood at the back of the cavern, near a cloth curtain that trailed from the ceiling to cover the entrance to more quarters beyond. Taimin was immediately curious about what the skalen might be hiding there.

Kash noticed his attention. “You are welcome in our residence, but stay away from the nest.” She flashed her sharp white teeth. “I am warning you for your own good. Our young are precious to us. I will say no more.”

Taimin looked askance at the curtain. He didn’t understand much about skalen society, but he knew when he was being issued with a strong caution.

The most surprising thing about the cavern—or residence as Kash had called it—was the lack of aurelium veins in the walls. Skalen were supposed to live in mines, trading aurelium with the other races. Kash’s clan was clearly wealthy and had to have exchanged goods with others; the cavern’s furnishings couldn’t have all been fashioned by this one small group. Woven carpets lined the stone floor, decorated ceramics rested on tables and against the walls, leather goods were in abundance, and the scent of incense perfumed the air.

“Please,” Kash said, indicating a small circle of cushions. “Sit.”

Taimin noted the movements of the skalen warriors as he settled himself along with Lars and Milton. Kash’s manner may have become much friendlier, but as she sat down, four guards stood nearby with javelins in hand.

“May I inspect the sword?” Kash asked as she leaned forward.

Taimin reluctantly drew his sword and handed it over. As Kash inspected it, running her fingers along the blade and testing its weight, Taimin’s fingers itched, eager to snatch his sword back. He forced himself to think about what it was they were trying to achieve.

His first task had been to establish contact. The skalen living here would be familiar with the surrounding area. He would ask about the machine—Kash would know about the strange rumblings and hisses—and about whether anyone had ever found a way inside.

Taimin opened his mouth. “Clan leader.”

“Yes?” Kash looked up.

“We saw something strange in the desert. Something buried under the sand. Something big . . .”

Kash cut him off by raising a hand. “We never go into the desert. It is a dangerous place. Some of my hunters entered long ago and never returned. Since then, we have a rule to avoid it completely. You would be well advised to stay away.”

Taimin exchanged glances with Lars. He wanted to press, but his instincts told him to hold his tongue. When they first arrived, Kash had been far from friendly. She had wanted them gone. She may have simply been protecting her territory, but it might be something more. And there was a mystery here: where did these skalen get their wealth? Water, Taimin could understand; they must have a local source. But this was an inhospitable place, on the edge of a barren desert. Taimin knew how to hunt and guessed that meat would be far from plentiful. The cactuses growing in the gully would provide food, water, tinder, and fiber for weaving, but there were only a few dozen.

Taimin leaned to whisper in Lars’s ear. “Draw it out.”

He then looked back at the entrance. Lux had finally set, bringing about true night. The cavern’s triangular mouth revealed darkness outside.

“I’m just going to look at the stars for a moment,” Taimin said to Kash. “We have a long journey ahead of us. I need to take a bearing while it’s dark.”

Holding the sword high, Kash absently nodded.

Taimin climbed to his feet and exited the cavern.

Taimin resisted the urge to glance behind him until he was well away from the tallest of the three peaks. When he allowed himself to check back at the entrance, his jaw tightened. A skalen stood just inside the triangular cave mouth, not even trying to hide the fact that he was watching.

Turning away, Taimin stared up at the heavens while he walked. The waxing moon was low in the night sky, leaving a dark expanse overhead, so that a multitude of twinkling lights stared back at him. Wind howled over the desert, but the basin was protected by its encircling wall and all he felt was a warm breeze on his skin.

As he pretended to take his bearing, he scratched his chin and pondered. He had taken a good look at the largest of the caves, but he still needed to see inside the two others. His intuition told him that if he revealed the true purpose of his visit he would have less, not more, opportunity to look around. Kash clearly didn’t like the thought of humans wandering freely through her domain.

Taimin wandered while he gazed up at the stars. A shooting star darted across his vision, followed by another. His meandering footsteps took him closer to the next cave, the one that was square shaped rather than triangular. He surreptitiously looked behind him. His guard had started to walk toward him. The skalen held up a hand.

Taimin ignored him and walked straight into the cave.

He stopped inside the entrance, which wasn’t decorated like the clan’s residence. He blinked and pretended to look confused. Aurelium lamps rested in a handful of niches, revealing a rectangular, low-ceilinged space that appeared to be used as a storeroom. Dried meat hung from ropes. Clay jars stood in neat, orderly rows on the floor. Bulging sacks filled a corner. Several of the jars glowed from within: Kash’s clan possessed aurelium in quantity. The rear wall of the cavern glistened; the sheen of moisture indicated a spring or a well.

Taimin swiftly took it all in. Then a reptilian hand gripped his upper arm.

“Apologies,” Taimin said, meeting the skalen’s narrowed green eyes. The thin black slits of pupils enhanced the guard’s menace. “It’s dark.” He spread his hands. “I got confused.”

The skalen didn’t say a word but firmly led Taimin away from the storage cavern to take him back to the residence. As soon as he entered, Taimin saw Lars and Kash still bargaining. A blanket lay between them with Taimin’s sword in front of Lars. Kash had a jar in her hand and was in the process of adding a finger-sized shard of aurelium to a cluster on an open leather pouch by her knees. She handled the piece delicately, placing it down so that there was a gap between the shards.

“If you leave again you will be escorted,” the guard hissed to Taimin. “I suggest you stay here.”

Lars gave Taimin an inquiring look but Taimin shook his head. Taking his seat on a cushion, Taimin settled in while Lars pretended to change his mind over and over again.

18

Selena didn’t say much on the journey. As she crossed the desert with Ruth and Vance, she still felt troubled and confused. Her parents had loved her, she knew that much. Her father had made a single, terrible mistake. She was already having regrets about the way she’d left things. When she saw Milton again, they would talk.

Before she had left the homestead, she once more stood over her mother’s grave. Afterward, she wondered if she had settled something inside. Her mother was gone, but Selena now knew something about the woman she had been. Her parents were both mystics. She had a reason for the way she was.

She focused on her goal: she wanted to get inside the buried machine—perhaps using the same passage she had found as a child—and do whatever she could to destroy or disable it. The firewall would vanish. Everyone would build better lives outside the wasteland. The bax inhabiting the hills would know about the machine, but would they be aware of an entrance?

As the three travelers approached their destination, the taller dunes flattened, the yellow sand became dirt, and the range of hills grew in size. Eventually the terrain took on a humped, rolling appearance, leading them past ever-larger mounds while the ground climbed toward a barrier of miniature mountains. It was a rocky region, but far from monotonous. Soon, between two hills, they caught their first sight of a wide gorge, with walls almost steep enough to call it a canyon, and cliffs layered with shades of yellow, blue, silver, and rose. Aware that they were surely in the territory of the bax who lived in the area, they decided not to attempt to hide their presence.

Selena headed up a graveled slope to gain a vantage. While she climbed, she looked in the direction of the firewall, now a strip of red sky on the horizon that contrasted starkly with the blue above it. Vance and Ruth walked behind, bickering the way they always did.

“How do you know it works?” Vance challenged.

Glancing back, Selena saw that Ruth had stopped to pluck a small shrub by its base and sniff the leaves.

“I’ve told you,” Ruth said. “My mother taught me.”

Vance snorted as he continued up the hill. “But all you really know is that if you make someone eat it, they don’t die.”

Ruth scowled at him. “It’s called bloodroot. It has red roots, hence the name. It calms fever and helps with nausea.”

Vance watched Ruth for a moment and then waved at her. “Give me a taste.”

Selena couldn’t help smiling as Ruth reluctantly climbed up the slope to join him. Picking off a bit of spiky leaf, Ruth handed it to Vance’s grasping fingers.

“Urgh.” Vance twisted his mouth. “And this reduces nausea?”

“I’ve seen it work,” Ruth snapped. “You’ll be thankful if you need my skills. At least I’ve got them.”

Now it was Vance who narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I don’t have skills?”

“Perhaps I am.” Ruth put a hand to her forehead. “No, wait. I forgot. You sell weapons. What a wonderful skill. Making the world a better place.”

“Weapons help people protect themselves,” Vance said as he stopped beside Selena at the top of the hill.

A moment later Ruth came close to Vance and prodded his chest with her finger. “Weapons cause wounds that people like me have to heal.”

“Vance, Ruth,” Selena hissed. “Look.”

From her position she had a commanding view of the area. As she scanned from place to place, looking for signs of a settlement, she had been sure the terrain was empty. But suddenly there they were, on a smaller hill. Two hunched, stocky figures stood watching them.

“Bax,” Vance said.

“What should we do?” Ruth asked.

Selena glanced at Vance, and then Ruth. “I suppose we should go and talk to them.”

She didn’t wait for a reply as she began her descent. While the two bax watched and waited, despite her outward confidence, her apprehension grew. There could be any number of bax hiding on the far slope, out of view. She found it difficult to put her faith in Milton’s description of the bax as friendly. In her experience, there was only one race more murderous, and that was her own.

“Selena,” Vance said. “Slow down a bit. You too, Ruth.”

As Selena turned and waited, Ruth stopped too, a perplexed look on her face.

“What? Why?” Ruth asked.

Vance was deadly serious. “Please.”

Ruth’s frown deepened when Vance pushed past, taking his opportunity to lead from the front. Ruth opened her mouth to say something, but Selena shook her head, smiling slightly. Ruth gave a rueful shrug, returning the smile. Vance put a hand on the sword at his side.

With Vance now in front, Selena inspected the two bax as she approached. Their splayed feet were bare, and both wore leather smocks that fell below their thick waists. Man-sized but shorter and broader, with lumpy skin and ridged spines, they were hairless, with sloping, furrowed brows and square jaws. One was a male, but the female had shoulders at least as wide as his. Selena reminded herself that of the races, bax were the most similar to humans: they ate both meat and plants, built villages, and married for life.

“It has been a long time since I have seen a human,” the male said in a throaty, guttural voice. Selena glanced at the axe hanging from a loop on his belt, but so far his manner was friendly. She realized he was young, with a wide mouth and a thick neck covered in green blotches.

“You must be far from home,” said the female as her pink cheeks crinkled in a smile. Her deep-set eyes were warm and, like her companion, she was armed with a heavy cudgel of pale basalt wood that swung from her hip.

“Well met,” Vance said. “Apologies if we’re in your lands. We’re traveling to see family.”

It was a story they had agreed together. They first needed to find out how the bax who lived here felt about the rumbling machine before they asked their questions. If the bax were afraid of it, they might not share their knowledge, fearful that the beast under the sand might be awakened.

The wide-mouthed bax glanced at his companion before turning back to Vance. “No humans live near here. You are making a dangerous journey.”

Sensing their distrust, Selena thought furiously: they needed something more for their story to work. Why would they be traveling so far from any human settlements? She reminded herself of all the things she knew about bax.

She had an idea. Vance and Ruth would hate her for it, but it might alter the mood.

“Vance and Ruth here,” she said, indicating as she spoke, “were recently wedded. It is a human custom to visit family to share the news, no matter how far away.”

Vance rounded on Selena. His mouth was open, but he didn’t say anything. Ruth’s eyes were wide. She looked like she was fighting a scowl.

“Ah,” the male said. His mouth parted in a grin as he looked at his companion. “A marriage!”

“We have goods we can trade for a place to rest,” Selena said.

The bax shook his head. “Among bax, we do not receive gifts to celebrate a marriage.” He opened the palms of his hands. “We give them. I am Bagrat and my lovely companion is Den.” As he spoke, Den looked surprised but pleased at his description. “I have no doubt our warden, Gorax, will welcome you. I must warn you, however, he will ask you for news about the world, and you must not hold back.”

“We are happy to oblige,” Selena said.

“Come, Vance, Ruth, and . . .”

“Selena.”

“Such strange names.” Den shook her head. “But I’m sure our names sound equally odd to your ears. Come with us—and welcome. Welcome to Gravel Range.”

Soon Selena, Ruth, and Vance were following the two bax along the floor of the gorge below the range of stunted mountains. The gorge narrowed, and as the walls grew steeper, a collection of well-made huts appeared, located under the cliff where an overhang stretched for hundreds of feet to provide shade and protection from above. The round huts were all similar, built with stone walls and roofs of dried razorgrass. It wasn’t a huge settlement, but still large enough to be a home to a hundred bax or more.

As she entered the village, Selena watched dozens of bax as they chatted and worked, idled and ate. Some carried water, others lugged wood or scraped at leather drying in the sun. She passed an older female hauling a sloshing water sack in her arms and two bax working together to repair a hut. A group of youths carried bundles of pink razorgrass on their shoulders, while nearby a bax with wrinkled skin sat on a rock and sewed. A little female chased a lizard, snatching at its tail in vain. A trio of hunters carried dead scrub rats on their shoulders.

It was suddenly driven home with force that when Selena had been a captive in the Rift Valley, what she had seen was an army at war. Gravel Range reminded her of a normal human settlement.

“It’s a good place to live,” Bagrat said over his shoulder. “We have a well to bring up groundwater and plenty of game.” He grinned at Den. “Provided you like rock lizard.”

“How long have you been married?” Den asked, addressing Vance and Ruth.

Ruth’s eyes narrowed. “Just a short time,” she said.

“You will have to tell Gorax your story,” Den said. She gave a short, grunting laugh. “He will want you to be more specific.”

It was late afternoon, and as Selena walked through the pathways between the huts she smelled the aroma of roasting meat and guessed that evening meals were being prepared. Soon a fire pit came into view outside a larger-than-average hut, where a fat-bellied bax with spots on his crown and a necklace of tiny bones turned a skewered rock lizard on a spit. The old bax poked at the coals and hungrily examined the sizzling meat.

“Warden,” said Den. “Look what we found. Visitors.”

The fat-bellied bax looked up and his deep-set eyes widened. He immediately straightened his leather tunic and wiped his hands on his flanks. “It has been a long time since we had visitors.” He gave Den and Bagrat a grunt of disapproval. “You should have warned me.” He put on a smile and turned his attention to the newcomers. “I am Gorax, Warden of Gravel Range. And . . . ?” He frowned at Bagrat.

“This is . . .” Bagrat faltered. He whispered to Selena in his hoarse, throaty voice. “I have forgotten your names.”

“I’m Selena.”

“Vance.”

“Ruth.”

“Vance and Ruth were recently married,” Den said. “They are traveling to share the good news with family. Do I have that right?”

“You do,” Ruth said, almost making Selena smile. Her friend had reluctantly stepped into her new role.

“A marriage?” Gorax clasped his palms together. “Tonight, we will celebrate. And how do you fit in?” He gave Selena an inquiring look.

“Our mothers are sisters,” Selena said with a nod at Ruth. She wondered how much of a web of falsehoods she would end up weaving.

“Snix!” Gorax bellowed, making Selena jump. A passing bax looked like he was professing not to hear. “I see you there. Don’t pretend I am not calling your name.”

Snix stopped in his tracks and his shoulders slumped. With a defeated air, he came over to the fire pit. He was lean for a bax, with eyes that gave him a perpetual squint. “Warden?”

“Take over at the fire, will you?”

“Perhaps another—”

“You can’t tell me you were busy. Do something useful for a change.”

Snix sighed and began to half-heartedly turn the handle fixed to the end of the pole.

“Slowly!” Gorax growled. “Do it properly, hear? If you do, you can share it with us.” Snix brightened and began to pay more attention to his task.

Gorax turned when a female roughly his own age approached, waddling as she walked. As round-bellied as Gorax, she also had the same worn, leathery skin. Her brown eyes gave the impression of kindness.

“Ah, there you are, jewel of my heart,” Gorax said. He took her hand. “This is my wife, Breang. Without her, Gravel Range would fall to chaos.” He turned to the three humans. “This is . . .” He faltered.

“I’m Selena. This is Vance and this is Ruth.”

“Vance and Ruth were recently married,” Gorax explained. Vance began to shake his head but stopped when Selena gave him a sharp frown. Neither Gorax nor Breang noticed.

“I have always wondered what takes place at a human wedding,” Breang said. “You will have to tell me everything.”

Now Vance and Ruth were both staring at Selena.

“How long will you be staying?” Gorax asked.

Selena hesitated. After the warm welcome, she felt a strong urge to tell her hosts the truth about their visit. But to reveal she had lied would cause offence. “Not too long,” she said. “Just long enough to rest a short while before we continue our journey.”

“Is it far you have to go?” Breang asked.

“Just past the three peaks on the other side of the desert.”

Gorax and Breang exchanged grim glances. Breang’s voice became low and serious. “You do know that this is the time of sandstorms?” she asked.

“We know,” Selena said.

“You are taking a grave risk.” Breang shook her head and tutted.

“Enough, wife,” Gorax said. “Bagrat, Den, if you find huts for your guests, I will reward you with an invitation to eat with us tonight.” Bagrat cast an anxious glance at the rock lizard on the spit. Gorax gave a short laugh. “I know that look. Never fear, we will prepare another.”

“Two lizards?” Bagrat licked his lips and nodded. “Consider it done.” He and Den walked away with the hunched stride common to all bax, chatting quietly with heads together.

“Now.” Gorax indicated some flat rocks placed near the fire pit. “Please, sit. Snix will take care of dinner. Rest yourselves while we share conversation.” An eager smile reached every part of his broad face. “As my guests, I have expectations of you all. In particular, I want to hear any news you have about the world.”

Vance leaned forward and punched his fist into the palm of his hand. “. . . and that’s when Blixen arrived with his army. It was a moment of danger for the city. The rebellion was successful, but there were no soldiers to man a defense. People armed themselves and rushed to the gates to defend Zorn with their lives . . .”

Selena gazed into the embers as Vance told Gorax, Breang, Bagrat, and Den the story of Blixen and his conflict with the Protector of Zorn. The smell of sizzling lizard meat made her mouth water. A dry breeze blew through the gorge, and the coals brightened and dimmed with each successive gust. The golden sun was setting but the crimson sun would take a while longer to fall from view. The cliffs that the small village huddled between glowed with a warm rose color.

Ruth leaned over to murmur into Selena’s ear. “He’s quite a storyteller. I never would have guessed.”

Vance brought his tale to an end. “Blixen had discovered the fate of his wife, and taken his revenge. He and Elsa agreed that the city would change. It would no longer be a place for humans alone. At last there was peace. But,” he spread his hands, “we know that it is a fragile peace. Zorn cannot support its population for long. With a shortage of water, the future is dark. And there will always be those who want to conquer the city and take it for themselves. Not all will be as wise and far-sighted as Blixen, Warden of the Rift Valley.”

Gorax let out a breath. He leaned forward to clap Vance on the back. “That is quite a tale! I would like to meet this Blixen one day.”

“Now,” Breang interrupted, “it is my turn for a request.” She turned. “Ruth, when were you and Vance married?”

Ruth and Vance exchanged glances. “After . . .” Ruth hesitated, and now she was studiously looking away from Vance, “after peace was declared. Vance rescued me from the Protector, and we were married in a cactus grove.” She gave a wry smile. “His choice of setting.”

“My joke,” Vance said with a shrug and a twinkle in his eye. “She was always prickly.”

“Prickly?” Ruth glared at him.

“You see?” Vance grinned. “But despite her disposition, she is a beauty.” He was now looking directly at Ruth. “The most beautiful woman in the wasteland.”

Ruth’s scowl turned into a blush. It was the first time Selena had seen her at a loss for words.

As the conversation continued, Selena found herself thinking about Taimin. She missed him. Even when he was with her, she missed the way things were. She remembered when they first met, and she had been fascinated by the young warrior with the wherry by his side. Their friendship had developed into something more as they searched for the white city. Together, they had discovered the truth about the world outside the firewall. If they could only get there, they might share a new dream, more wondrous than anything before it.

All of a sudden, she had a strong urge to be alone. She climbed to her feet. “Warden, do you mind if I look around?”

“Of course not,” Gorax said. “Everyone knows you are here by now. You will not be harmed. Make sure you come back in time for the feast.”

She thanked him and walked away.

Selena wandered through the settlement, watching bax as they clustered around fires, talking and preparing food. The false night still provided plenty of light to see by. Husbands and wives sat close together while little ones played at their knees. Some of the bax glanced at her and nodded; a few even waved greetings. It was strange; no one minded her being here. Perhaps the different races could live together after all.

Maybe if everyone put their energy into finding common ground and working together, they wouldn’t need to destroy the firewall.

The thought passed quickly. Selena shook her head. Someone had created the machine and put up the firewall. Someone had built Zorn. She owed it to everyone who had been killed by thirst, starvation, heat, exhaustion, predators, and conflict over scarce resources to get inside the machine—and destroy it.

Passing the last hut, she focused on the terrain. Her purpose in this place was to find an entrance. She needed to search.

Now that she was alone, she unfastened the grapple from around her waist and kept it handy; if she encountered anything she would be ready. She found seams in the rock everywhere. Most were like wrinkles in an old man’s face, but some were large, clefts and fissures that cut into the cliffs and might lead underground. Gravel Range was tiny compared to the Rift Valley; it might take a few days, but three of them working together would be able to explore the whole area.

With no time to lose, Selena inspected the gaps and crevices, one after the other, but found only rock. She continued to walk along one face of the cliff until it dropped down and merged with the dirt, then she walked back toward the settlement, following the opposite side of the gorge.

She had nearly returned to the huts and was poking her head into a seam when she heard a voice behind her.

“What are you doing?”

Selena turned and saw a little bax female. The youngling had pinkish cheeks, warts on her scalp, and a voice that was gruff and rasping, but somehow she was still as sweet as a human child.

“I’m looking for beetles.” Selena crouched down and smiled. “They’re my favorite food.”

“Can I help you?”

“Of course you can.”

Selena soon had a companion as she explored. The youngling skipped along beside her until it was too dark to see anymore.

19

Taimin turned his head to look outside. He could see only darkness through the triangular mouth of the cavern. He was seated on a cushion, with Lars and Milton on either side. Four guards stood nearby and watched the ongoing trade. Farther away, more skalen had gathered around the fire pit, and there was a sharp sizzle and fountain of sparks as they used aurelium to light the tinder. Younger skalen fetched meat, along with clay pots and water sacks, and began to prepare an evening meal—although to the night-loving skalen it might have been breakfast. One of the cooks peeled back the curtain guarding the nest and spoke to someone beyond.

Meanwhile, the clan leader, Kash, carefully added a knuckle-sized shard of aurelium from her jar onto the open pouch on the ground in front of her.

“There you have it,” Kash said. “My final offer.” She tapped her fingers on her knee. “Well?” she asked briskly. “Do we have an agreement?” She began to reach for the sword lying horizontally on the ground in front of the three men.

Lars glanced at Taimin, who was scowling at the sword.

“Wait.” Taimin held up his hand until Kash drew back. “I need to confer with my companions.”

Kash looked from face to face. She threw up her hands. “Make it quick. I will eat, and you may talk until I am done.” The tall skalen climbed to her feet and walked away.

“What do you think?” Taimin asked his two companions.

“She’s hiding something,” Milton answered softly.

“Lars?”

“There’s something that rumbles under the desert, and she doesn’t even want to talk about it? It’s strange, I’ll admit. Still, the skalen might just be afraid of it.” Lars focused on Taimin. “What happened outside?”

“I looked inside one of the caves, the other big one,” Taimin said. “As far as I could see there’s nothing strange about it. They’re using it as a storeroom.”

Lars swept his gaze over the cavern. “So they’ve got even more goods than we can see here? Where does it all come from?”

“Maybe they stole it,” Milton said.

“Maybe,” Taimin said reluctantly.

Lars turned to Milton. “Can you farcast what’s in the last cave?”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Milton nodded toward various locations around the cavern. “There’s aurelium all over the place. It interferes.”

“So there goes that idea,” Lars grunted. “What’s the plan?” he asked Taimin.

“We need more time,” Taimin said.

“They’ll never let us wander around,” said Milton, running his fingers through the wisps of his gray beard. “In fact, as soon as Kash returns she’s going to want us gone.” He raised an eyebrow at Taimin. “And you’re going to lose your sword.”

“It’s late,” Taimin said. “They know enough about humans to know we sleep—”

“Shh,” Milton hissed.

Kash set a clay bowl and spoon onto a bench and came over. She didn’t sit down. The aurelium on the pouch was where she had left it, and the sword still lay flat on the ground. She revealed her pointed white teeth. “Well?”

“We’ve just been talking,” Lars said. He indicated Milton. “Our friend is weak. We’re tired and it’s dark outside.” Milton’s mouth tightened at Lars’s comment. “If we can stay the night, we can resume our trade in the morning.”

Kash’s reptilian eyes narrowed. “This is not what we discussed.” She shook her head sharply. “No, you cannot stay.”

Taimin thought about how eager Kash had been to trade the sword. He took a risk and shrugged. “Then I’ll take my sword back.” He reached forward but Kash stopped him.

“Wait . . . That will not be necessary.” The clan leader hesitated. “One night. But be warned, our trade will be affected.” She scooped up the pouch, keeping the aurelium shards within. She then pointed to one of the alcoves, a cleft in the rock that contained a pile of old skins. “You can sleep over there and you can eat your own food. Do not leave the residence without permission. We will give you a pot for making water. Just keep quiet and stay where I have said. You may be sleeping but we will be awake, and we will be watching.”

Taimin, Lars, and Milton gathered their packs and headed to the designated area. The ceiling was low and Milton cursed when he bumped his head. Lars wrinkled his nose as he kicked aside the old skins.

“Weak, am I?” Milton muttered.

“I said what I had to,” Lars murmured as a skalen passed by. “Try not to get so offended.”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Taimin said.

“Let’s just ask them,” Milton said.

“No.” Taimin shook his head. “Not until we know what’s in that last cave.” He made a decision. “Milton, tomorrow you need to pretend to be ill.”

Milton scowled. “There has to be another way.”

“Do you want to help or don’t you?” Lars growled. “They understand age the same way we do. I’m old, but I’m not as old as you, and the rains know I’m stronger. It’s a better story if it’s you.”

“Please,” Taimin said, meeting Milton’s eyes.

“Fine,” the old mystic grumbled.

Taimin was tired, but as he lay on his blanket, his eyes shifted and he saw an armed skalen, seated against the opposite wall, watching them carefully. The tip of the guard’s javelin glowed. If thrown, the point would detonate. Would the guard risk it? Or would he use the dagger at his waist if he wanted to cause them harm? There might be enough aurelium in the cavern for one explosion to trigger another. The skalen’s tilted eyes reflected the green light as he returned Taimin’s gaze.

It took Taimin a long time to fall asleep.

Kash scowled. Milton lay stretched out on his back and panted while he stared up at the ceiling. Lars had wet the old man’s forehead so it looked like he was dripping sweat. Seated nearby, Taimin leaned over Milton and made a show of covering him in a second blanket. He didn’t like the subterfuge but at least it would give him the chance to find out what the skalen were hiding.

“I am not pleased. Not pleased at all,” Kash hissed. “How long will this sickness last?”

Taimin frowned at the tall skalen standing over him. “This isn’t our choice. We planned to travel today.”

Lars gave an elaborate sigh. “Looks like we’re not going anywhere for a while.” He spoke to Kash in a grim voice. “Last time he was like this he didn’t recover for days.”

“Are you certain he is not dying?”

“It’s just a fever,” Taimin said. “It will pass with time.”

“Wait here.” Kash angrily tossed her head and strode away.

Lars met Taimin’s eyes. “We’re pushing our luck.”

“It worked, that’s the important thing. You did well, Milton.”

Milton spoke in a low growl. “Are you telling me I have to lie like this for days?”

“Just until we get a chance to look around,” Taimin said.

Taimin saw Kash finish a discussion with her warriors. The tall skalen’s expression was irritated as she strode toward them.

“We want the sword,” Kash said, baring her white teeth. “And we are giving you nothing in return. No aurelium. No leather. No ceramics. Nothing. Also, while you are here you can feed yourselves or starve. That is my offer. You can accept it or you can go.”

Taimin looked at Lars. The big skinner scratched his thick black beard and then gave a reluctant nod.

“Fine,” Taimin said. “We agree.” His gaze rested on his sword, which was still in its scabbard beside his blanket. It wasn’t just valuable; if he had to fight, his bow would be unwieldy in the confines of the cavern.

“Now,” Kash said. “You must stay where you are, and you will be guarded at all times. If you wish to go outside, you must ask, and you will be escorted. I do not trust you. And let me be clear, you must depart before the sandstorms come, sickness or no sickness. Understood?”

“We understand,” Taimin said wearily.

“Now, the sword.”

Seated on the stone floor, Taimin didn’t move. He gave Kash a determined stare. “You’ll have it when we leave.”

“No. Now.”

Taimin shook his head. “My friend is sick. I’ll keep the sword until he’s better. When my friend is well, then you can have the sword for providing refuge.” He put strength into his voice. “There are many more of you. You know you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

Kash thought for a moment and then nodded. “Remember: before the sandstorms, one way or the other. Now tend to your companion. The sooner you are all gone, the happier I will be.”

Two days passed, and then three. The skalen in the residence moved about at night and rested in their nest during the day, while the humans followed the opposite rhythm. The close quarters, cold temperature, and lack of freedom wore on Taimin’s nerves. Lars became sullen and withdrawn. Milton complained.

The residence was now familiar. Taimin had even seen inside the nest when he had offered to help carry water sacks, peeking in as he passed the curtain. He saw a low-ceilinged, circular space, filled with cushions and blankets. Small skalen tottered about under the supervision of the adults. The nest was big enough for the twenty or so skalen in the clan to sleep together, but there were no branching passages.

Taimin left the cavern several times, and at least the pain in his foot was better than it had been in a long time. He exercised when he could, but every move he made was under the watchful eyes of a guard. As the winds from the desert grew stronger, the skalen made visits to the storage cave to fetch supplies. At night, hunting parties set off with javelins and returned with rock lizards and scrub rats. The skalen found cactuses on their travels and hauled them into the residence. But no one visited the smallest of the caves, the one Taimin had yet to see inside, at least not while he was near.

Taimin now sat with his back against the wall and sharpened his sword. As he ran a smooth stone along the blade, rays of morning light poured through the cavern’s entrance. The skalen attended to their individual tasks, still awake from the previous night.

“I’m tired of this,” Milton muttered. The old mystic sat up. Taimin shot a glance at their ever-present guard, but the skalen was inspecting the glowing tip of his javelin. “It’s been three days. I want to be searching the desert, not stuck here with a bunch of skalen.”

“Lie down,” Lars said. Milton gave Lars a wary look and reluctantly followed the command.

“There’s a mystery here,” Taimin said softly. “Where does Kash get her aurelium? This isn’t a mine.”

“Wait,” Lars said. “Something’s happening.”

Kash entered the cavern with a trull by her side.

Taimin watched with interest. His only experience with trulls came from encounters in the arena. The trull was tall, over six feet in height, and had long, lank hair, dirty brown in color. A large upturned nose with wide nostrils gave way to a thick-lipped mouth and curved incisors that hung over the lower jaw. The trull wore a vest and coarse trousers over a solid, muscular body.

The trull turned to speak to someone following. Taimin’s surprise grew when he saw a mantorean trailing behind. The mantorean had the typical triangular head, crowned with a pair of antennae, along with multifaceted black eyes and a bone-colored carapace. She was evidently a female, given her strong legs.

He remembered when a trull had sold Rei-kika and her eggs, and at first thought the mantorean must be a captive. But then, from her easy manner, bow on her shoulder, and knife at her waist, he realized that the trull and mantorean were companions.

Kash obviously knew them both well. “Sit, please.” She indicated the circle of cushions that the three humans had once occupied. Kash saw the trull’s dark eyes on Taimin and waved a hand. “Ignore the humans.”

“Why are they here?” the trull asked.

“One of them is ill. They say they are unable to travel.”

“You are certain? They may be taking advantage of your hospitality.” Taimin felt a spike of apprehension at the trull’s next words. “If you want them gone, why not kill them?”

“Believe me,” Kash said with a snort. “They are getting little hospitality from me. Seat yourselves. Please.”

Kash waited for the trull and mantorean to lower themselves to the cushions before settling herself. A young skalen brought clay cups filled with water and the strange group of three drank together.

“I hope your travels have been successful.”

“Somewhat,” the trull said in a throaty voice.

A pack rested on the ground, and Kash glanced at it curiously. “Well? What do you have for me?”

The trull began to rummage, and removed a leather pouch that jingled. As Kash watched, the trull emptied the pouch onto the ground. Taimin heard multiple clangs.

“Metal rings,” the trull said.

“That is not all,” the mantorean said in a clicking voice. “Show her.”

The trull reached into the pack once more and removed a cloth-wrapped bundle. Kash leaned forward to see, and Taimin caught a glimpse of a long dagger with a wooden handle and a slightly rusted blade.

“Prin-tika killed a human for it,” the trull said.

“Hara played her part,” Prin-tika said. Taimin realized that it wasn’t just the mantorean who was female.

Kash leaned forward eagerly. She inspected the items and then her head moved sharply as she took note of Taimin watching. “Human, keep your eyes to yourself,” she said.

Taimin looked away, but only long enough for Kash to return her attention to the trade. The skalen clan leader laid out a leather pouch on the ground. She then picked up a large jar and reached inside to place the contents onto the pouch one by one. Taimin saw the pile of aurelium pieces grow, and was surprised to see several formed into rings and cylinders.

The trull, Hara, nodded. “This is acceptable. We will return soon, most likely after the full moon.”

Taimin saw Lars trying to get his attention. The older man spoke softly. “These skalen didn’t trade for their aurelium,” he said. “And I don’t think they stole it either. They have a source.”

Soon the trull and the mantorean had departed, no doubt to roam the wasteland, stealing and murdering to seize valuables from anyone foolish enough not to travel in numbers. Taimin watched as Kash wrapped the metal rings and dagger in cloth and took the bundle over to one of the benches. As Kash departed the room to enter the nest, Taimin’s determination grew.

He had to find out what was happening here. They didn’t have long. The skalen might realize that Milton’s illness wasn’t genuine, or simply decide to kill the troublesome humans.

“Please, Milton,” Taimin said. “Just a little longer. They’re getting used to us being here. We’ll soon have a chance to learn more.”

False dawn cast a red sheen on the walls of bare rock. The golden sun wouldn’t rise and bring true daylight for hours. Usually, Taimin would be asleep.

Nearby, Lars’s rumbling snore rose and fell. Milton twitched and groaned.

Taimin lay on his side. His chest moved evenly but he had one eye open just a fraction. He watched as Kash took the bundle containing the metal dagger and rings and headed toward the mouth of the cavern.

Milton gave a loud grunt. Kash stopped in her tracks and watched the three humans. Whatever she was doing, she wanted them to be asleep for it. Taimin kept his eyes pressed tightly closed. He waited for the count of two breaths and opened them again.

His gaze followed Kash’s back as she left the cave. As he continued to pretend to sleep, he didn’t have to wait long. Kash returned to the residence.

This time her hands were empty.

20

One end of a heavy pole pressed down on Vance’s shoulder, but the weight didn’t bother him at all. He looked proudly at the immense rock lizard swaying in front of him. Up ahead, the young bax, Bagrat, carried the other end of the pole. The long overhang that protected the village from the suns’ rays grew in size as they neared. Soon Vance saw the first round huts. Several bax stopped and stared.

Vance noticed the pink-cheeked female, Den, up ahead. He had learned that although she wasn’t Bagrat’s wife, she soon hoped to be, when Gorax gave his blessing. Den put her hands to her face and then hurried over.

“Now that is a lizard to tell stories about,” Den said in awe. “Well done, Bagrat.” As she inspected the dead lizard that was bigger than Vance’s leg, her brow furrowed when she saw the wound that had killed it. “Wait, this is an arrow wound. You don’t own a bow.”

“It was Vance,” Bagrat said. He glanced over his shoulder to give Vance a smile and a nod.

Vance grinned and shook the bow in his left hand. Den fell in beside them, and as they entered the village a growing cluster of bax came over to see. In the distance, Vance spied Ruth. She was over at the base of the cliff on the opposite side of the gorge, seated across from Gorax’s wife, Breang, as they worked together at some task.

“Mind taking this, Den?” Vance asked.

“You know the rules. You kill, you clean.”

He laughed. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

After handing Den the pole, Vance headed straight over to Ruth. He nodded to some of the village’s residents as he passed and greeted a few by name. Several had seen the rock lizard and asked if there would be a feast. Vance grinned and told them they needed to ask their warden.

As Vance neared, he saw that Ruth had a bowl in her lap while she pounded leaves with a fist-sized stone. Twice as stout as Ruth, Breang sat with her, leaning forward to give Ruth an instruction before they both looked up.

“Wife, did you see?” Vance held up his bow. “I shot a rock lizard the size of a wherry.” He briefly turned back the way he had come, disappointed when he saw that Bagrat and Den had moved on.

Ruth gave him a wry smile but didn’t pause in her task. “I’m sure I’ll get to see it soon enough, husband.”

Vance felt a flash of irritation. She could at least pretend to be interested. “Why not now?”

“I’m busy,” Ruth said. “Breang is teaching me poultices.”

Breang put her hands on her knees and groaned as she pushed herself to her feet. “I will leave you two to talk.” She nodded toward the bowl. “Keep at it until all the pulp is mixed. I will show you some elixirs tomorrow.”

“Breang, thank you,” Ruth said.

Breang snorted. “You already know so much that there is little I have to teach you.” She smiled at them both and waddled away.

“That’s not true,” Ruth said. She gave Vance a quick glance while she worked. “My mother learned from the other races. I can see why.” She continued to pound while Vance waited uncertainly. He wondered if their conversation was over.

“Well?” She set the rock down. “Did you find anything?”

Vance remembered that he had spent the day exploring. He smoothed his moustache and shrugged. “Not really. I searched every cave and crevice. Maybe Taimin is having more luck with the skalen.” His gaze took in the entire gorge. “The bax know the area. I explained to Gorax what we’re looking for. They’ve all been helping.”

“You told them?” Ruth asked, startled. Her eyes narrowed. “How much did you tell them?”

Vance decided he didn’t like her tone. “What’s the problem?”

“Vance . . .” She shook her head. “We’re supposed to be visiting family. No one likes being deceived.”

“Oh,” Vance said. He thought for a moment and then waved a hand. “Gorax didn’t mind. I already told him about Zorn. He asked me who built it. I said we didn’t know, but that we found a map that led us here. They’ve already seen the machine. Until now, they hadn’t connected it with the firewall.”

Ruth said nothing, just stared into his eyes. He had always thought she had warm, brown eyes. But she could make them look fierce when she wanted to.

“What?” he protested. “What was I supposed to say? He still thinks we’re married. He just knows that we also want to find out about the machine.”

“You’re sure he didn’t mind?” Ruth paused for a moment. “You’re going to have to tell Selena.”

“Tell me what?” Vance turned to see Selena walking toward them, her tunic dusty from her explorations. Her eyes were questioning.

Ruth gave Vance a meaningful look. “Tell her.”

Vance sighed. “I told Gorax what we’re looking for and why.”

“Oh.” Selena frowned. “What did he say?”

“He’s agreed to help us find the entrance,” Vance said. He didn’t like the way that Ruth and Selena were both staring at him. “I’m telling you the truth. He doesn’t mind that we didn’t say why we’re here at first.”

“I suppose you’ve spent the most time with him,” Selena said. “You’re sure he wasn’t offended?”

“I’m sure.”

Selena’s expression became amused. “Does he still think the two of you are married?”

Vance reddened. “Yes.”

Ruth changed the subject. “Did you find anything?” she asked Selena.

“No, but I asked about the skalen at the three peaks. Den said that Gorax trades with them sometimes. Apparently they have a wealth of goods.” Selena turned to look into the distance. “I’m going to keep searching. There’s one last valley I haven’t explored.” She set off, leaving Vance and Ruth to watch her go.

“She’s dedicated,” Vance said. “I’ll give her that.”

“We all dream of a better life,” Ruth said. “We’ll walk through fire to get to it.”

“You don’t mean literally, I hope.” Vance gave a short laugh.

There was silence for a time, and Vance decided he should probably go and clean his lizard before Den or Bagrat did it for him. He opened his mouth but then Ruth met his eyes.

“Vance,” she said seriously. “Why did you become a weapons trader?”

He scowled at her. “Not this again.”

“I’ll keep asking as long as you keep coming back with foolish responses.” Her voice became mocking. “It pays well. I get to meet new people.”

“Look,” Vance said, “I understand. You heal people. I give them weapons so they can hurt each other.”

“Are you ashamed of it?”

“No. Why would I be?” He let out a breath. “I’m just tired of arguing.”

Ruth indicated the clay bowl on her lap. “Sit down. I want to try this on you.”

“Eh?”

“Give me your arm.” Vance reluctantly held out his hand and Ruth clasped her palm over his. She rotated his arm, turning it up to reveal the underside. Vance was surprised when he saw a long scrape on the soft skin near his wrist. Now that he was aware of it, the scrape hurt. “Sit down,” Ruth said again, pulling him to the ground.

As soon as he was beside her, Vance became aware of how close they were. She was still holding his hand. Their knees were almost touching. While Ruth used her fingers to gently spread her paste over the scrape, he watched her face and expression of concentration. Her lips were parted. They were red and moist. Her brown eyes had tiny flecks in them.

After a time, he was surprised to find that the pain had ebbed away. The poultice felt cool on his arm. Her touch made his skin tingle.

“Now, you have to leave that on for a time, so I’m afraid you can’t go anywhere,” Ruth said. “Tell me the truth. How did you become a weapons trader?”

Vance hesitated; his instinct was to say something light, but Ruth was staring directly into his eyes. He gathered his thoughts. “My father was a smith, a craftsman,” he said slowly. “He made swords and tools. He started to teach me, but then he died.” He shrugged. “He was a hard worker. His heart gave out.”

Ruth kept her body close to his. Her expression became a little sad.

When she didn’t say anything, Vance continued, “After my father died, I couldn’t find anyone to finish teaching me, so I sold the things he hadn’t found a customer for. I was good at it. I began to work with other smiths. I developed a reputation for honesty.” He concluded with a smile. “That’s my story.”

Ruth was still holding his hand. She had leaned in close while he spoke.

“There,” she said softly, glancing down at his arm. “You can go now. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Vance climbed to his feet. She didn’t say anything more, but she kept watching him. He began to walk away but frequently glanced back at her.

He thought about the last thing Ruth had said to him. He didn’t know if she was referring to the healing salve, or the act of revealing himself.

As he left her behind, he thought about Cora, the woman he had risked everything to be with, culminating in his imprisonment in the arena. He had thought he loved Cora. But he now realized he had barely known her.

Ruth, on the other hand . . .

21

Taimin knew he had to act. Soon the sandstorms would come. Kash’s patience was wearing thin. Milton was struggling to keep up the pretense of illness, and Taimin didn’t like to think about what might happen if their subterfuge was found out. With the skalen in the residence refusing to share their food, their own supplies would run out.

At last the time was right.

It was a few hours past midday. The golden sun scorched the area outside the cavern while most members of the clan slept in their nest. As was often the case in the afternoon, Lars was asleep. Even Milton was snoring softly. Taimin pretended to keep his eyes closed, watching through a crack as his ever-present guard’s head lolled to the side. Soon the guard’s chest was rising and falling evenly.

Taimin eyes snapped open. He knew he might not have long.

He swiftly sat up. He heard a mumble and glanced at Lars, but the big, bald skinner shuffled and fell silent. Another glance at his guard told him the skalen was still fast asleep.

His looked toward the back of the residence. As he scanned for movement, the curtain at the nest fluttered, making his heart jump along with it, but then it fell still. He waited for the count of three breaths, then climbed to his feet.

He took his first steps away from the alcove that Kash had said they were never to leave without an escort.

Taimin froze when the guard shifted to change position on his cushion. His pulse began to race. Kash didn’t trust them. What he was about to do was dangerous. The guard’s head swayed. His breathing became regular once more.

Taimin crept swiftly. His boots made a whisper of sound on the smooth stone floor. The bright sunlight at the cave mouth was dazzling, but he knew he couldn’t pause to let his eyes adjust. He walked out into the searing heat. After the coolness of the cavern, it felt like he was walking into a fire.

For the first time since he had come to the three peaks, no one was watching him.

His breath quickened along with his footsteps. He almost ran, trading stealth for speed. Focused on the narrow split in the rock that opened onto the third and final cave, he skirted the cactus grove and headed straight for it.

With every step he expected to hear a voice call out. His back itched. A javelin could fly through the air and plunge between his shoulder blades and he wouldn’t even know it was coming.

As he approached, the smallest of the three peaks was still large enough to tower over him. Nestled against the wall of the bowl-shaped gully, it had a shape that was humped rather than sharp. Taimin wasn’t certain how large the cavern inside would be; it was just the entrance that was narrow.

He reached the split in the rock and glanced one last time back the way he had come. Keeping his ears pricked, he listened for the sounds of an alarm being raised.

Nothing.

He returned his attention to the cave. Despite its thin entrance, he wouldn’t need to turn sideways. He didn’t know who or what he would find inside, and braced himself for confrontation.

Darkness swallowed him up.

Taimin blinked and turned his head to look in all directions. From a cursory glance it appeared that, after a small circular space, the cave terminated in a vertical wall. The floor was uneven and the rock surrounding him was jagged and broken, rather than smooth, with sharp overhangs poking down from the ceiling and protrusions jutting from the walls. But although the cave was dark, it was bright enough outside that he could see a short distance using the light at his back. Now he could see that the circular section didn’t completely close off. The wall in front of him opened up at the end, indicating a bend that might tunnel deeper still.

From his first inspection there was no spring or well, no supplies or ceramics. No skalen.

He moved deeper, his heart rate increasing as he rounded the bend and saw that the tunnel turned, blocking his view of anything past a few dozen feet. Knowing he needed to move swiftly, he followed the curling passage. As soon as he was out of view of the entrance, he found it much harder to see.

Then another corner brought him to a place where the walls spread apart and the ceiling climbed to twice its height. While this cave wasn’t as big as the residence, it was far larger than he had expected; obviously the peak covered just the front section, with the rest burrowed into the rock.

Taimin stopped in his tracks.

He was now in a vast underground chamber. Emotions fought each other when he saw what lay ahead. He experienced a flush of victory, but then an overriding sense of apprehension.

In the not-too-distant past the cavern’s rear wall had collapsed. Boulders and bits of gravel surrounded a jagged, vertical crevice: a fissure at the place where the rock had split. The crack was similar in appearance to the cave’s narrow entrance. Perhaps it was a little wider, and not quite as tall.

Taimin swallowed. The crevice was glowing.

He approached with awe, focused on the strong green light that poured from whatever was hidden behind the rock.

All of a sudden, something flew past his face, like a spark from a fire. A second sped across his vision. In front of the glowing crevice, more tiny specks darted around.

As he came closer, his mouth dropped open. Countless green particles swam in the air, floating as if kept aloft by a breeze when in fact the air was still. He continued until the glowing sparks surrounded him. He reached the region of boulders that littered the ground where the rock had split apart.

He saw something: some items lying on a flat rock below the fissure. As bright green sparks hovered like flies on a carcass, he recognized the dagger and metal rings that Kash had traded for.

Except that the rings were no longer metal.

Without exception, every ring was now completely green. The dagger was different. Half of the blade was as it had been before, but the rest was in the process of being eaten; in time the aurelium would completely replace the metal.

Taimin watched the glowing crevice once more. In his mind, everything snapped into place. Selena had described what she had seen when she was trapped inside the machine. Green light. Gray surfaces. Rock.

The machine hissed and rumbled and released hot air.

The skalen had discovered a source of aurelium. All they needed was metal and they had a constant source.

Aurelium burned, even in tiny quantities. In the same way that a fire needed tinder, the firewall needed fuel.

Yet to be truly certain, he had to climb up to the crevice. He had to know that it was possible to get inside the machine.

A loud voice behind him sent a chill along his spine.

“You should not be here,” the sibilant voice hissed.

Taimin whirled.

He saw Kash and half a dozen skalen. Their flat expressions were more than hostile. Every one of them was armed.

Taimin wondered what was about to happen. With no other choice, he raised his hands to show that he was unarmed. Kash beckoned, and he slowly walked toward her. He allowed the skalen to encircle him. He braced himself, waiting for a knife in the back, as a scar-faced warrior came up behind him. A hard blow struck the back of his knees and he crumpled.

Taimin sat on the floor with his back against the rock wall. Lars and Milton were on either side of him in the same position. Taimin was once more in the alcove designated for the three humans, but now with his wrists bound tightly with leather cord. Their weapons had been taken from them. Skalen warriors faced them.

“Liars, all of them,” a young, golden-eyed skalen hissed. “The human was never ill.”

“What should we do with them?” asked an older, featherless skalen.

“Is your mind getting slow, Bron? We should kill them,” the young warrior said eagerly.

“And who is going to do it? You, Neesal?” the old skalen, Bron, asked scornfully.

Taimin and Lars exchanged grim glances. Kash was absent, in the nest, as her warriors all raised their voices, some calling for the humans to be killed, others saying they needed to wait for Kash to return.

A crisp, clear statement cut through the clamor. “I will do it.”

The skalen who spoke wasn’t as tall as Kash, but he was battle-scarred and his eyes were fierce, with thin pupils.

“There you have it.” The young skalen, Neesal, nodded to the others. “Zaitan will do it.”

Milton’s eyes, wide with fear, shifted from one skalen to the next. Lars’s nostrils flared. Taimin strained at his bonds, but it was no use. Catching movement, he turned his head to see Kash return.

“Clan Leader,” Neesal said. “Zaitan has said he will do the killing. Will you give the order?”

Taimin lifted his chin. He stared directly at Kash. “What are you so worried about?”

All of the skalen ignored him.

“Do you think he entered?” Bron asked Kash.

Kash’s expression was troubled as she slowly shook her head. “I do not think so.”

“We have to kill them all, surely?” Neesal looked like he was both excited and apprehensive at the prospect.

Kash pondered. “This should not have been allowed to happen.”

“What are you afraid of?” Milton demanded, glancing from face to face. “What are you hiding?”

“We have friends,” Lars growled. “Many of them. They’re going to come looking for us.”

“And you only mention this now?” Kash snorted. “You said it yourselves. You are three travelers, passing through.”

“What makes you think we told the truth?” Lars demanded. “We know about the machine. It’s why we were here in the first place.”

Kash’s lip curled with disdain. “You know nothing.”

“Do you even know what it is you’re hiding?” Taimin asked. “Don’t you want the firewall gone?”

“The firewall?” Kash was clearly puzzled. She waved a hand. “The firewall is far from here.”

Despite Kash’s words, Taimin thought Lars’s warning might have had an effect. There was a worried cast to her reptilian eyes as she stared into the distance. Her warriors watched and waited. Taimin held his breath.

“I have made my decision.” As Kash prepared to make her pronouncement, Taimin tried furiously to think of something he could say or do. “I am clan leader, and this is my final word.” She fixed her narrowed eyes on each of her warriors in turn. “Whatever happens, we must keep our hands clean. More humans may come.”

Neesal looked disappointed. “Then what are we going to do with them?”

Kash’s cold eyes revealed her cunning. “Hara and Prin-tika will be returning soon. We will give our prisoners to the trull. Then, if anyone comes looking, we can tell them the truth: the trull took the humans with her and they were alive when we last saw them.”

“We would have to convince Hara and Prin-tika to take them,” said the old skalen, Bron. “They will want some kind of payment.”

“Aurelium?” one of the warriors ventured.

“You know Hara,” another said. “She will ask for more than we can give her.”

Bron turned to look at the steel sword that lay on a wooden bench not far from the fire pit, alongside Taimin’s bow and Lars’s axe and skinning knife. Three packs rested on the ground beneath the bench. “We can give Hara the sword.”

Kash scowled. “After all this trouble . . .”

“We don’t use swords but trulls do,” Bron replied. “That sword is worth a hundred rusted daggers.”

Kash thought for a moment. “Fine,” she snapped. “Our security is more important than one sword. We will offer the trull the sword and she can take the humans away, to somewhere far from here. Then . . . well, the trull will do what needs to be done.”

“We should kill them now,” the skalen with the scars on his face said flatly. “If they tell others what they have seen, our clan will be in danger.”

“Have you killed humans before, Zaitan?”

Zaitan reluctantly shook his head. “No. But they are much like other creatures. If we cut them, they will bleed.”

Some of the other skalen made sounds of distaste.

“Kash is our clan leader,” Bron said to the rest of the group. “The decision has been made.”

Taimin couldn’t look at Lars or Milton. They had found what they had been looking for, but lost their freedom in the process. And when the trull and mantorean returned, they would die.

22

The two suns threw their combined force onto an exposed hillside. There were many hills like it in the region, for the landscape was undulating. This particular slope had been chosen for the very fact that it was positioned in direct sunlight.

Ingren and Ungar walked away from a pile of corpses, scattered across the hillside like oversized, squashed ants. Mantoreans needed sunlight for their breeding process, something Ingren had learned as part of her research. The circle of males had tried to protect the female, but Ungar was in a hurry, and seemed to have forgotten his sense of honor; after all, he already had his mantorean trophy. He had struck the group hard and fast.

“Well,” Ungar said with a glance at Ingren. “I would call that a success. We have learned where the humans were going.”

With Ingren acting as reluctant interpreter, the mantoreans had told them that the human with the crippled foot and his companions were heading to the solitary mountain on the horizon, before traveling to the desert beyond. The mantoreans had repeated the warrior’s name. The fact that Taimin was known, even among non-humans, only increased Ungar’s determination to take the man’s head as his final trophy.

“As we approach the mountain, keep an eye out for skalen,” Ungar said. “We may learn more.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists as he took long strides. Ingren knew her bondmate well. The hunt was in his blood. He was tracking down his prey, as warriors like him had done long before Agravida was founded and the bonded developed civilization.

Yet she was worried that his hunt for this one human was becoming an obsession. The longer the search continued, the more Ungar roamed and interrogated, the more he would never be able to give up. He had dedicated himself too much to this one goal. Any hope Ingren had of heading home soon was gone.

“Ungar, there are other humans—”

“But you know as well as I do that the greatest number inhabit the outpost,” Ungar interrupted. “He was the one named.”

Ingren tried again. “Ungar, this quest has taken long enough.” She hesitated and then spoke firmly. “I want to go home.”

Ungar came to a halt. When he turned to face Ingren, his red eyes, like miniature versions of the crimson sun, glared at her ferociously. His curling, spiral-shaped horns pointed in Ingren’s direction and his thin lips slowly parted to reveal row after row of sharp yellow teeth.

“Bondmate,” he said in a low tone, “you are my advisor. My half of the bond is ascendant. The warriors are in charge. It is your role—”

Ingren knew she had overstepped. There was a connection between her and Ungar. Theirs wasn’t a bond of custom; it was in her bones to be the follower, not the leader. She had no choice in the matter.

“My role is to advise and support,” Ingren said. “I know.”

“Then let there be no word from you, unless it is in support of my quest.” Ungar spoke as he walked, even though he hadn’t checked over his shoulder to confirm that she was with him. “When I have his head, Ingren. Then you can go home.”

23

Vance sat on a ledge. The range of hills was at his back and the gorge opened up below him. From his position, he could see to the edge of the sandy desert.

This was a region he had come to know well. Together with Ruth and Selena, he had explored every inch of Gravel Range. The bax had helped, although Vance got the sense that Gorax was humoring them more than anything else. If there was an entrance to the vast machine buried under the desert, the bax knew nothing of it.

Soon, Vance knew, he would be leaving Gravel Range, and he was surprised to find that he would miss the place. He had learned new skills, and made new friends.

All things came to an end, he thought to himself, as he looked down at the drawing in his hands.

The piece of fibrous paper was worn from too much time in his pocket. He had carried it with him the entire journey from Zorn. It was something he had made when he was a prisoner in the arena, wondering about the woman he had risked everything to be with and hoping she was still alive. In his spare moments, when no one was watching, he had worked on the drawing to add more life, or a recalled detail of her ears or eyelashes. Yet time had passed, and it had been a while since he’d last pulled it out. In fact, he had almost forgotten about it.

He inspected the lines and the shading between them that combined to make a woman’s face. He could barely remember Cora now. He had captured her appearance. But what was she actually like?

He had come here to say goodbye to the drawing. Now it was time to crumple the piece of paper and throw it.

“What’s that?” Ruth’s voice came from behind him.

Vance turned and he knew that his expression was guilty. Ruth stood nearby and had sounded different. Usually her voice was smooth, bold, confident. She was tough, and carried herself in a different way from any woman he had known. He was surprised to see her mouth set in a thin line. She looked . . . upset.

“Nothing,” Vance said. He didn’t know if she had already seen the drawing as he started to fold it.

“Show it to me.”

Vance hesitated, but then opened the piece of paper. Ruth came forward to see. The drawing had been lovingly made, and depicted a woman with a cascade of hair and a sweet, heart-shaped face.

Ruth stared at the drawing. “You did this.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Ruth knew about Cora. When Vance first met Ruth, he had been searching for Cora, and it was Ruth who told him about her death.

“She was very beautiful,” Ruth said.

“She was . . .” Vance said, letting the last word hang in the air.

Ruth pursed her lips and color came to her cheeks. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said as she turned and walked away.

Vance climbed to his feet. “Ruth,” he called.

He cursed when he saw his bow and flask a few paces away. He grabbed the bow, throwing it onto his shoulder, and fastened the flask to his belt before racing after Ruth. But she continued down the hillside as he followed, suddenly clumsy on his feet. Gravel slipped beneath him and he fell, tumbling onto his knees and scraping them, forcing him to freeze while he waited for the tumble of stones to subside. He clambered down the slope until he reached the ground at the bottom.

Once again in the gorge, he scanned until he saw Ruth’s departing back as she headed away from the village.

“Ruth,” Vance called.

She didn’t look back. Wherever she was going, she didn’t seem to want him to follow her. He watched her go and wondered what he should do. He didn’t want to make her any angrier than she already was, but he knew he needed to talk to her, to make her understand.

He set his jaw and hurried after her. He called her name again, but the only effect was to make her walk more quickly. He watched her disappear around a bend as he started to run. His feet pounded at the ground as he rounded the corner.

He skidded to a halt.

Fear was the overriding sensation, but not for himself.

Ruth stood facing a firehound.

The four-legged creature was big, as big as the firehounds Vance had fought in the arena. It was lithe and sinewy, fast and deadly, with powerful hind legs and a wedge-shaped, oversized head. A pair of spiral horns crowned its skull. Vance had been wounded by horns just like them. He knew the damage they could do.

A low, throaty rumble came from the firehound’s open mouth. The growl became a snarl. Sunlight glinted off its red eyes, matched in color to its crimson hide.

“Stay very still,” Vance said in a low voice. The firehound’s attention remained on Ruth. Moving slowly, carefully, Vance never took his eyes off the creature as he slipped his bow from his shoulder. He fitted an arrow to the string. Meanwhile Ruth unfastened the grapple she wore as a belt. She lifted her arm and began to circle the weapon over her head.

As soon as Ruth moved, the firehound ducked its head and charged.

Strong hindlegs propelled the firehound’s lean body forward. The path of the horns was clear.

Vance’s bowstring thrummed.

As the arrow flashed through the air, time slowed. Vance’s breath rushed from his chest. Fear shot up his spine. The firehound raced toward Ruth. The distance between the creature and Ruth shrank to just a few paces.

The arrow struck the creature’s neck. The firehound gave a violent convulsion. It was a lucky strike, barely a finger’s width from the thick skull that an arrow couldn’t penetrate.

The firehound roared and its legs collapsed from under it, leaving its momentum to carry it sliding over the ground. Vance ran forward, ready to fire a second arrow. He moved to stand between Ruth and the firehound. The creature shuddered. Its eyes glazed over as it became still.

Vance grabbed Ruth’s hand. He scanned in all directions. “Can you see any more?” He looked into her brown eyes, and he saw something in them he hadn’t seen before. She was shaken. “Come on,” he said. “It isn’t safe here.”

Ruth didn’t speak as they returned to the overhang and the small village sheltered beneath it. Vance cursed himself for his complacency. It was a mistake he vowed never to make again. Even close to help, he knew he should always be on his guard. His former profession and his time in the arena meant he could fight, but out in the wasteland, it was best to avoid danger in the first place.

Soon they saw the bax of Gravel Range as they moved between huts, carried dried cactus, hauled water, and tended fires. A short distance from the village, Ruth came to a halt.

She rounded on Vance and gave him a blunt stare. “Do you still love her?”

“She’s dead,” he said simply. “The Protector killed her.”

Her lips twisted with displeasure. “Answer me.”

Vance gazed into her eyes. He knew that if he didn’t explain now, his moment might be lost forever. “In truth, I barely knew her. We spent a few nights together. I think I wanted to rescue her.” He took a breath. “But would we have married? If we’d fled Zorn to live in the wasteland, would we have made a good team?” He pulled the folded drawing out of his pocket. “This is a fantasy,” he said, waving it. “It’s a symbol of what might have been.”

When Ruth didn’t respond, Vance took the edges of the paper and tore the picture into pieces. She watched as each piece fluttered to the ground.

Vance then reached out and took Ruth’s hand. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Unlike when she had treated his wound, or when he had unthinkingly gripped her hand after the firehound’s attack, this time his intent was unmistakable. He smiled. “But now that I have a wife, I don’t need another woman.”

Ruth scowled. “Don’t mock me. I hate it.”

“I’m not. I—”

He was interrupted when she leaned forward and kissed him. His eyes widened, but then he relaxed. He pulled her close. Her body was warm against his and her mouth tasted sweet.

Past Ruth’s shoulder, he saw a passing bax grin.

“Look,” Gorax said, nudging Selena. The thick-bellied bax with the spots on his scalp chuckled.

Selena smiled along with him. Of course it was going to happen eventually. She was happy for them both. Despite their differences, they were well-suited.

“Do you have a husband?” Gorax asked.

“No.” Selena shook her head.

She and the warden were near the fire pit, not far from Gorax and Breang’s stone-walled hut. He had sternly sat her down, saying that while Ruth and Vance had shared their stories, Selena had yet to fulfill her obligations. She had barely been given a choice in the matter, but his warm manner and kind eyes had led her to tell him more than she had thought she would. She had shared the story of her childhood and her hopes for a better life. Taimin was just a friend in her stories, although Gorax’s probing questions made her wonder if she had revealed more than she intended.

She even told him about Milton. Her father’s obsession with the machine buried under the desert had led him to lose his wife and daughter. Selena had grown up without parents. But maybe, when she next saw him, she and her father might build a new relationship for the future. Gorax had listened intently and then told her that she owed it to herself to try.

When Gorax saw Vance and Ruth together, he had returned the conversation to one of his favorite subjects. “Marriage is a good thing,” he said. “Among bax, nothing is more celebrated than a wedding, nothing more prized than the union between two lovers.”

Selena wished she could see Taimin’s face. She made a decision. When next she saw him, she would talk to him about his injury. He couldn’t use it as an excuse to push her away. Even now, though a desert separated them, he carried a part of her with him. If something happened to him it would destroy her too. He always said he accepted her. He needed to know that she accepted him. They should face life’s challenges united. They may die together, but they would also live together.

“Will you be exploring more today?” Gorax asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Selena looked away from him, at the tall cliffs, layered with different colors. “As far as I can tell, we’ve looked everywhere.”

“I agree,” Gorax said seriously.

“Do you believe in it? Do you believe me, when I say that there’s a better life out there?”

He scratched at his meaty chin. “In truth, I have no reason to believe that the firewall does anything except mark the beginning of the blackened ground. I mean no disrespect.”

“Then what is it that’s buried under the desert?” Selena met his eyes.

“Danger,” Gorax said. “Our rule is to stay away from it.” He spied movement and his deep-set eyes lit up. “Ah, there she is. I have a few things I must discuss with my wife.” He turned to Selena as he put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. “Thank you for sharing your story. I have a feeling that you are closer to answers than you realize.”

She wanted to ask him whether he meant answers regarding the firewall or answers to the troubles she carried with her, but he was gone before she could open her mouth to speak.

Then something strange happened.

Selena.

The voice was dry and thin, the voice of an old man. Selena sat staring into the slow-burning red coals of the fire pit and her eyes unfocused. The voice had spoken inside her mind.

Father? She framed the query as a thought.

Selena. I don’t have long. My lifeline is stretched to the limit. Listen to me carefully. We are in terrible danger. You may think I don’t care about you, but I do. Please. You need to stay away.

Where are you? Selena asked. What’s happening?

Milton didn’t reply.

Selena’s eyes refocused. She was startled to see Vance and Ruth on the other side of the fire pit.

“Selena?” Ruth asked. “What’s wrong?”

Selena knew her face was pale. She stood quickly. “It’s time to go. The others are in danger.”

“How do you know?” Vance asked.

“My father. He just spoke to me.”

Ruth glanced at Vance and then back at Selena. “What did he say?”

Selena knew it wouldn’t take her long to pack. She was already thinking about the journey to the three peaks.

“He said to stay away.”

Taimin’s mouth was dry. His stomach clenched with hunger. He wondered if he could ask Kash or another skalen for some water, but he knew there were members of the clan who were looking for any excuse to kill them rather than wait for the trull and her mantorean ally. Beside Taimin, Lars tensed his muscular arms and wriggled his wrists, testing the strength of his bonds.

Taimin’s other companion was doing something else altogether.

Milton had his gaze fixed firmly on the guard by the opposite wall. Meanwhile Bron, the old skalen with the featherless scalp, stood with his hand resting on the hilt of his knife; after the previous guard’s fateful sleep, Kash had taken the cushion away. The tendons in Milton’s neck were visible, along with the veins in his forehead. He glared at the guard, while the skalen scowled back at him.

“Milton, what you’re doing isn’t helping,” Lars said.

Milton shook himself and then faced Lars. He let out an exasperated breath. “I was trying to enter his thoughts.”

“Oh,” Lars said, surprised. “Sorry.”

Milton frowned. “See that aurelium lamp in the wall, near his head?” He nodded in the direction of the clay bowl that gave off a green glow. “There are dozens of them in this place. Too much aurelium for what I’m trying to do. If he were human, it might be a different story.”

“Can you keep trying?” Taimin asked.

“What else is there?”

Lars leaned forward to meet Taimin’s eyes. “He’s right. We have to do something. We can’t just sit here and wait for the trull.” He returned his attention to Milton. “Can you contact the others?”

“They’re not coming,” Milton said. Taimin focused sharply on the mystic’s face. “I managed to reach Selena and told her to stay away.” He shrugged. “It’s easier to farcast away from here. She’s safe, by the way.”

Taimin and Lars exchanged glances.

“She’ll come,” Lars said. “You know it as well as I do.”

Taimin’s heart sank. His actions had led Lars and Milton into a dire predicament. Now he might be putting Selena in danger too.

24

The young skalen weaved as he ran. He panted and looked back over his shoulder, before stumbling into the cliff at his side. One of his tilted eyes was missing, displaying an empty, puckered socket, but his good eye was wide with terror. He jumped over a ravine to reach a clear region in the lonely mountain’s foothills. Then he put down his head and sprinted for all he was worth.

Ungar strode after him.

Ingren had spied the skalen on a well-trodden trail. He wasn’t trying to hide, indicating he was close to home and unsuspecting of danger. Ungar’s sharp eyes saw him a moment later, and the chase began. The pursuit was taking place on high ground, with a clear view of the landscape beyond the mountain, where tiny ripples in the terrain indicated the sands of a desert.

It was with reluctance that Ingren hurried after Ungar; she knew what would happen when he reached his quarry. On open terrain it was even easier for her bondmate to catch up to the fleeing skalen. Ungar wasn’t even running; he simply descended on his target with his long, ground-eating paces. The frantic young skalen looked back again while he ran, his one eye fixed on the imposing bonded warrior bearing down on him.

The skalen tripped.

His foot struck a rock and he fell forward. Flinging his hands out to brace himself, he hit the ground hard. His arms and legs scrabbled as he tried to pick himself back up. Then, sprawled on his stomach, he stopped moving. His head turned slowly. The skalen stared up to see Ungar leaning down to bring his face level with his.

“Where . . .?” Ungar asked in a rasping voice.

Over time, Ungar had picked up a few more words of the language spoken in the wasteland. But he couldn’t properly communicate until Ingren arrived and, as he grew frustrated, he reached down and gave the skalen savage yanks until he was on his back. Ungar wrapped his hand around the skalen’s thin, reptilian throat. He scowled at Ingren until she reached his side.

“He wants you to answer his questions,” Ingren said to the skalen. “Did a group of humans come this way?”

“Y . . . Yes,” the skalen said in a weak voice like the hiss of a snake.

“Where did they go?” Ungar asked Ingren.

She repeated the question.

“Into . . . the desert.”

“Which way?” Ingren asked as Ungar stared grimly into the skalen’s frightened face. Ungar revealed his teeth. The tips of his curling horns shifted every time he moved his head.

“That way!” the young skalen gasped. He tried to move his head, but clearly found it impossible with Ungar holding him fast. His one eye rotated until he was looking out at the desert.

Ungar glanced at Ingren. His expression was pleased. “The mantoreans were telling the truth. Ask him about the humans’ destination.”

The one-eyed skalen watched the exchange between the bonded with bemusement. He forced a word from his mouth. “Please . . .”

Ingren hated to hear the creatures beg when Ungar tormented them. At any rate, anything more the skalen was about to say was choked off when Ungar’s huge fingers squeezed harder.

“What was their destination?” Ingren asked the skalen.

Ungar relaxed his grip.

“They were searching for something,” the skalen wheezed. “In the desert. On the edge of the firewall. I know it doesn’t make sense.” He struggled to find breath as Ungar clutched his neck.

After translating the skalen’s reply, Ingren frowned, puzzled. She turned to Ungar. “What are they looking for?”

“It does not matter,” Ungar grunted. “There is no rain in this place, nothing to wash their scent away. I will find their trail.”

Without warning, Ungar straightened and at the same time lifted the skalen by his neck. With a heave of his shoulder, Ungar threw him against a sheer rock wall. The skalen flew through the air before Ingren heard a sickening crack as something in his body broke. The skalen crumpled, in moments just a corpse on the ground, with one staring eye that was now as useless as the other.

Forgetting the skalen, Ungar turned his attention to the desert. As he moved to take in the view beyond the mountain, Ingren glanced at the skalen’s body. With a sigh, she then joined her bondmate’s side.

It had been windy as they traveled to the mountain but the air was momentarily still, and the desert lay revealed like the palm of an open hand. It was a barren place of dirt and sandy dunes that stretched all the way to the horizon, where a thin red band indicated the barrier that separated the wasteland from the rest of the world.

Gazing out at the place where she would soon be traveling, Ingren’s spirits sank. Although the breeze had died down, she saw the situation would soon change. After all she had been through, now this.

In the far distance, a haze billowed over the desert. Winds were gathering force, creating a wall of sand that rose up and moved inexorably forward. Even from where Ingren was standing, a sudden gust struck her face.

“There is a sandstorm brewing,” Ingren said. “Bondmate, this is foolish. I cannot follow you without sharing my thoughts. It is my role to advise. I am advising you now, in the strongest possible terms. Do not do this.”

Ungar’s face turned to her. His long, sweeping brow ridges tilted to make his expression severe. “Show me another human. Do you see one? We have come this far. This was never supposed to be easy. A quest involves risk.”

“But how much risk is too much?”

“You must do your duty, Ingren. Have faith in me. Follow me—yes, even into danger. Banish your fears. I will do all in my power to keep you safe.”

The belt around Ingren’s gray robe couldn’t stop it from flapping in the fierce wind. She climbed the last dune she ever wanted to see, yet was dismayed to find a multitude beyond. Her pack felt heavy, weighed down by the four trophies Ungar had already taken. But she knew that in truth it was lighter, and she was simply weary. She stopped to slip her pack off her shoulders and anxiously inspected its contents.

“Bondmate, we will soon finish the food and water we brought with us,” she called.

The heat was draining even Ungar. The tall warrior walked with shoulders slumped, his long spear strapped to his back to free his hands. With every step his high leather boots sank deep into the sand. His traditional warrior’s costume was as dusty as Ingren’s robe. He didn’t look as proud as he had when they commenced the quest.

Ingren raised her voice when he didn’t reply. “Ungar, we must turn back,” she persisted.

Ungar kept walking.

Ingren shook her head but didn’t have the energy to keep arguing. She hurried to catch up to her bondmate and wished the two suns would depart the reddened sky. Ahead, the haze caused by the birth of a sandstorm was thicker than it had been the day before. Ungar climbed slope after slope. With three distant peaks on one side and a range of hills on the other, they entered the desert’s heart.

Ingren at least felt some relief when the terrain firmed up. The dunes became lower, which made for easier traveling and less grit cast by the wind into her face. She saw Ungar bending to bring his head close to the ground. He swung his neck from side to side, sniffing.

The advisor in Ingren forced her to speak again. “Bondmate, we have been wandering for far too long—”

Ungar thrust out a hand to silence her. He straightened and lifted his narrow chin to inhale the wind. His nostrils flared.

He cast her a quick glance and smiled, displaying his rows of yellow teeth. Then he started to walk at twice the speed.

Ingren frowned. Ungar lowered his head once more and gave short snorts while he tried to catch a scent. He headed one way, then another, with Ingren forced to retrace her footsteps as she became more and more frustrated.

“What is it?” she asked.

Ungar wouldn’t answer. He climbed toward a crest and vanished down the other side. Ingren sighed, panting as she made the long ascent. When she reached the top, she gazed down and saw that Ungar had stopped on the low ground between the rises. There was gravel beneath his feet as he turned and swept his nose over the area, searching in all directions.

“Humans,” he said. There was a triumphant glint in his eyes that Ingren knew well. Ungar cast around while Ingren followed the slope to join him. He sniffed at the ground and then pointed. “This way.”

25

Strong wind tugged at Selena’s long black hair as she drank a large gulp of water from her flask. She desperately wanted to splash a few drops over her head, but knew better than to waste her supplies. With a tap against Vance’s shoulder she handed over the flask.

“Here.”

“Give it to Ruth first,” Vance said.

“I just drank,” Ruth said. “You saw me do it.” She sighed in exasperation. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!”

Vance reluctantly accepted the flask. Selena returned to watching the horizon. She knew the moment of respite wouldn’t last long; they were doing everything they could to cross the desert and reach the three peaks as swiftly as possible. They stood together at the summit of one of the tallest dunes in the area, a place where they could take a short rest and view the approaching sandstorm.

“Any idea how far away it is?” Ruth asked. Her eyes were tight as she watched the billowing dust on the horizon.

“It’s hard to tell,” said Selena. The yellow clouds rose and fell, sucking in and out as they enveloped a wide portion of the desert. The sandstorm was strangely hypnotic, but also terrifying. “Vance?”

Vance took the flask away from his lips. “Looks like it’s moving pretty fast.”

“Did Milton tell you anything else?” Ruth asked Selena.

“No. He just said to stay away.”

“Whatever’s happening, it can’t be anything good,” Vance said.

He handed Selena the flask and she returned it to her pack. The group of three spent a few more moments watching the horizon. It was impossible to say how wide the sandstorm was, or how furious it would be. Already the wind blew hard against the dunes, and although the golden sun was directly overhead, its yellow disc was hazy. Selena’s eyes suddenly stung as a few specks of grit struck her face. She was forced to turn her head away.

“What do we do if it gets bad?” Vance anxiously smoothed his moustache. “Head back to Milton’s homestead?”

“We can’t turn back now,” Selena said. She set her jaw and focused on the three tall rock formations. She didn’t know if it was her imagination, but their sharp shapes appeared more blurred than they were before. “No more stops. We have to hurry.”

The humans’ scent led somewhere unexpected.

Ungar lifted his head as he entered a wide gorge bounded by opposing cliffs. He no longer needed to follow the trail; it was clear where the humans’ tracks were going.

Ingren found herself following him toward a small settlement of round stone-walled huts, built in a place where a long overhang of rock provided protection from the elements. Ingren thought it might be a human settlement, but then saw dozens of bax moving about the village, unmistakable from their ridged spines and hunched postures.

“Ungar, wait,” Ingren hissed. “There are dozens of bax here. We need to form a plan.”

“Plan?” He regarded her scornfully. “My plan is to complete my quest. The trail leads this way.”

Ingren grabbed him by the arm. She forced him to a halt and stared into his fiery eyes. “What about the rules of conduct? If they know we exist, they will organize. You will ruin the quest for the next warrior to enter the wasteland. We are supposed to stay hidden when we can.”

“I am in a hurry,” he said flatly. “The wasteland is vast, and we are in a remote location. Now, Ingren, let me go.”

Ungar shook his arm free and headed directly for the village. Ingren’s lips thinned as some of the bax stopped to stare. Ungar was half again as tall as they were. His horns marked him out as belonging to no race they were familiar with.

“Ungar!” Ingren rushed to catch up to him. “You are being too bold!”

Ungar ignored her. He headed directly for the huts, fire pits, and circles of flat rocks used as stools. Ingren had no choice but to chase after him. As she reached the edge of the village, she smelled smoke and an underlying odor of drying meat and skins.

More and more bax stopped what they were doing. When the squat creatures saw Ungar heading their way, their ugly, blemished faces shifted from initial shock to fear. Soon the nearest to Ungar began to retreat backwards. A young bax tending a fire lifted his head and his deep-set eyes shot wide open before he stumbled away. A female grabbed two younglings and bundled them into her arms. A strong-looking male raced into a hut and came out with a stout club. In the distance Ingren saw several others call to each other. A pair of bax stood uncertainly; both held long spears.

There was one lean bax who had his head down as he sat on a stump of dried cactus. Despite the guttural calls of his fellows, he studiously ignored them as he bit down on a long, curved bone to tear away strips of flesh. He was thin for a bax, with squinting eyes and a face and neck covered in crimson splotches.

Ungar passed one hut, then another. His long legs stepped over a fire pit. The watching bax clearly didn’t know what to make of him. The lean male who was eating had his back to Ungar, unheeding of the calls of his fellows and unaware of the menace approaching from behind.

Ingren came to a halt. She wrung her hands. She was no warrior, but she knew that this was not how a quest was supposed to be done.

Ungar bent down to bring his face close to the bax’s cheek. He still hadn’t been noticed. It was only when the bax went to turn the bone around to get at the meat that he suddenly froze.

The bone fell out of his hands.

A moment later Ungar wrapped a hand around the bax’s throat and lifted him high. He stared into the bax’s eyes and spoke in his low, flinty voice.

“Where . . . humans?”

The bax’s legs dangled. His face contorted with horror as he took in Ungar’s size and features.

Ingren spied movement and saw another bax heading their way. He was older than most of the others, with a wide belly and a cluster of spots on his scalp. She couldn’t help but be impressed as, unarmed, he strode toward Ungar. Ingren guessed he might be the village leader.

“Let him go,” the old bax said grimly. Still holding his captive in the air, Ungar rested his fiery eyes on the newcomer, but the fat-bellied bax stood firm. “What do you want?” He then spoke directly to the bax in Ungar’s grip. “Hold on, Snix.” He shifted his legs apart. “Let him go.” He scowled at Ungar. “Now.”

On the far side of the settlement, Ingren saw that the other bax were taking encouragement from their leader. More of them were fetching weapons.

“Ungar . . .” she warned.

“Where . . . humans?” Ungar demanded.

“Three peaks,” Snix gasped.

Ungar squeezed his hand.

The movement was swift and sudden. A sharp crack split the air and the lean bax’s head lolled to the side. Ungar dropped the dead bax and waved for Ingren to follow him as he walked away from the village.

Gorax crouched at Snix’s side. He glanced up and saw Den and Bagrat, along with a growing crowd of warriors. “He needs help! Someone get my wife.”

“Warden,” Den said softly. “He is dead.”

The crowd opened up and Gorax saw Breang’s familiar face. He felt a strong sensation of relief when he saw that his wife was unharmed, but then felt a flash of guilt. He touched Snix’s face and closed his glazed eyes. Conscious of the fearful faces around him, Gorax straightened.

“What just happened?” Breang asked.

Another voice spoke up. “What were those monsters?”

“Giants,” someone replied.

More bax were gathering, looking to their warden for answers. Mothers and their younglings stood beside proud hunters and warriors. Gorax knew it was his job to keep them all safe, and on this occasion he had failed. Even with Gravel Range close to the firewall, his villagers always had to be on the lookout for deadly predators and raiders who wanted to take what they had. Now they had a new threat to contend with.

Gorax turned to stare in the direction Snix’s attacker had come from. He was pensive for a moment as his villagers waited for him to speak. “It appears the humans were telling the truth,” he said slowly. He made a sound of disgust and shook his head. “Horned giants . . . I thought they were just stories.”

“What should we do?” Bagrat asked. The young warrior stood with his axe in hand.

“What if everything else they said is true?” asked Den from her position beside Bagrat. “What if the humans are right, and the beast under the desert truly does give birth to the firewall?”

Gorax clenched his jaw. As his thoughts took form, his heart began to beat faster. Momentous events were taking place. The humans wanted to bring down the firewall. They said there was a paradise on the other side.

The giants wanted to find and kill the humans. Gorax counted Vance, Ruth, and Selena as friends.

Making a decision, Gorax swept his gaze over the crowd, and when he spoke, his voice was determined. “All warriors are to assemble. We travel to the three peaks.”

Breang’s expression was worried. “What about the sandstorm?”

“We are the bax of Gravel Range,” Gorax said firmly. “A little dust and wind won’t stop us.”

26

Taimin stared at his sword. It was so close. At the same time, bound and guarded as he was, it was also impossibly distant. The sword rested on a wooden bench, not far from the fire pit, alongside his bow and Lars’s axe and skinning knife. Their packs sprawled on the ground underneath.

Beside Taimin, also with his back against the rock wall, Lars had his eyes closed. Milton sat slumped and his gaze was unfocused; he looked as if he was in some sort of trance, perhaps trying to combat the aurelium that prevented him making full use of his talent.

It was late afternoon. With most of the clan resting, it was quiet in the vast cavern the skalen called home. Yet among those awake was their guard. The skalen stood by the wall opposite the alcove with his javelin in hand. This time it was Neesal, the young golden-eyed skalen who was always eager to prove himself.

Taimin realized that Neesal had noticed him staring at the sword. When the skalen scowled at him, Taimin looked away; he didn’t want to provide any reason for the young warrior to argue for his death.

A shift in the slanted light pouring through the cavern’s entrance announced a newcomer as Kash entered the cavern. She had come and gone several times. Something was clearly troubling her. Ignoring Neesal, she began to walk toward the curtain that guarded the nest.

“Clan Leader,” Neesal said.

“Eh?” Kash turned her head and came to a halt. “What is it?”

“Are we certain the trull is coming?”

“Hara said she and Prin-tika would return after the full moon.”

“And if they do not?”

Kash’s nostrils flared, even as the tightness in her eyes indicated she had been worried about the same thing. She glanced outside. “We can only hope. There is a sandstorm coming. We all want these humans gone.”

As Kash finished speaking, another skalen exited the nest, and Taimin felt a chill when he recognized Zaitan, the warrior with the fierce eyes and the pale scars on his face. Zaitan stretched to loosen his muscles and walked over to the rack of javelins at the back of the cavern. He selected his weapon and gave the javelin a quick check before heading toward Kash and Neesal.

Zaitan gave the humans a cursory look of disdain. Taimin’s apprehension grew. Beside him, Taimin felt Lars struggle with his bonds.

“This has gone on long enough,” Zaitan said. “We should kill them now.”

Neesal nodded, clearly in awe of the older warrior.

Kash glanced toward the cavern’s entrance as the sound of howling wind reached the residence. “Perhaps you are right,” she said. “The storm will come soon. Hara and Prin-tika may be delayed. Even if the humans do have friends, I would not expect them to travel in these circumstances.”

As Taimin felt Milton’s eyes on him, he reflected on the fact that Selena had only had a chance to know her father for a single night. Taimin’s desperation made sweat break out on his forehead. He had to do something or he would never forgive himself.

He was sure that if he could get to his sword, he could cut through his bonds. But between him and the wooden bench were three skalen, two armed with javelins and all with hunting knives at their belts.

Catching movement, he turned his head to see more skalen exit the nest. When they noticed Kash, Zaitan, and Neesal contemplating their three prisoners, they didn’t hesitate to grab their weapons and head over.

“We are going to kill the humans,” Neesal said to the newcomers. His golden eyes gleamed.

“Who is going to do it?” The old skalen, Bron, frowned.

Soon close to a dozen had gathered. Taimin’s plan of a dash to his sword was even more hopeless. He strained at his bonds, but his captors knew what they were doing.

“I will do what must be done,” Zaitan stated.

“Wait,” Kash said slowly. “I have yet to agree to this.”

“Got any ideas?” Lars muttered to Taimin. “If we’re going to do something, now’s the time.”

“There’s too many of them,” Taimin said under his breath. He thought furiously but no plan came to mind. Even if his wrists weren’t bound and he had his sword in hand, he would never be able to fight his way free of so many. “Milton?”

Milton shook his head. He looked as if he was about to be sick.

“What if we just let them go?” asked Bron. “They may get caught in the sandstorm. Either way, we will never see them again.”

Kash considered the idea, but then shook her head. “No. There is too much risk. We have a unique source of aurelium, with no mining required, and they know about it. If we let them go, they will return with a hundred more of their kind.”

“And if they are captured, they will talk,” another skalen said.

Kash’s voice was troubled. “It is true that we cannot keep them captive forever,” she said. “And we cannot let them go.”

Lars glanced at Taimin and then raised his voice. “Listen,” he called. “You can have your secret. There’s no need to kill us.”

Ignoring Lars, Zaitan hissed at Kash. “What is it to be, Clan Leader?”

Taimin waited as Kash came to her decision. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of anything he could say to convince the skalen to let them live. He couldn’t believe that he might be about to hear the announcement of his imminent death.

When it came, he felt numb.

“Fine,” Kash said. She nodded in Milton’s direction. “Start with the old one. He will struggle the least.”

Taimin’s stomach churned. He had taken a risk to explore the three caves—he had known that—but he never thought it would come to this.

“You will do it outside?” Bron asked Zaitan.

“Of course. I am not a fool.” Zaitan considered his aurelium-tipped javelin and then passed it to Neesal. “Hold this. The knife is better.”

Neesal puffed himself up, proud to be taking Zaitan’s javelin. In contrast, Zaitan’s tilted eyes were cold. He put a hand on the hilt of his hunting knife and drew it slowly. The blade of pale basalt wood was polished and glossy, reflecting the green light that filled the cavern.

Knife in hand, Zaitan began to walk toward the three humans. He focused on Milton. Taimin no longer tried to hide his movements as he worked his wrists in one direction and then the other, but his bonds were too tight, and the leather too strong to break.

Taimin’s legs weren’t bound. He could get up and charge. The one thing he knew was that he couldn’t sit by and watch Selena’s father taken away to be killed. It was the only plan he had. He shifted his legs and prepared to push himself to his feet.

Zaitan stopped directly in front of Milton. As Milton looked up at the skalen in front of him, Taimin was surprised to see that some strength had returned to Milton’s expression.

“I would stop now, if I were you,” Milton said softly.

“You are in no position to make threats,” Zaitan said. He turned and waved a hand at Bron. “Give me a hand.”

“Fine,” the bald skalen said, coming over. “But do not expect me to watch you do it.”

When the pair of skalen moved, it was swift. They reached down, grabbed Milton under the arms, and hauled him to his feet.

Taimin charged.

Eyes on his sword, he shoved past the skalen holding Milton and through to the group behind them. Startled cries followed him as he began a lumbering race for his sword. But pain shot up his leg as his crippled foot held him back.

It took only a moment for the onlookers to recover from their initial surprise. Neesal lunged to grab Taimin by the cord at his wrists. Another skalen joined in and kicked at Taimin’s ankles.

Taimin collapsed. Strong hands rolled him over. Soon it was all over.

Taimin found himself on his back, pinned in place by the javelin Neesal held to his neck. He saw the pair of skalen haul Milton toward the cavern’s entrance. Milton was allowing himself to be taken. His face was gray. He looked back at Taimin. Their eyes met.

Taimin knew something terrible was about to happen. He couldn’t help thinking about Milton’s story. As a younger man, Milton had come to the desert filled with hope and conviction. He had sought to destroy the machine that powered the firewall in order to lead his family to a better life. He had dug and probed. He had taken risks that cost him his young daughter, and then his wife.

Finally, Milton had discovered his daughter wasn’t lost to him after all.

Even as Taimin watched, Milton’s expression changed. He planted his feet firmly on the floor. Encountering resistance, the two skalen on either side of him shoved, but he wouldn’t be easily moved.

Taimin heard a soft voice in his mind.

There is something I can do. Milton’s lips weren’t moving as he regarded Taimin with a steadfast expression. Be prepared. I have to tell you, you may be harmed also. I do not expect to survive. Promise me you will enter that machine and destroy it. And tell Selena . . . Tell her I’m sorry. You are a good man, Taimin.

Milton looked up at the ceiling, as if staring through to the sky above. His eyes rolled back into his head.

A scream burst like an explosion inside Taimin’s skull.

The scream wasn’t audible, like a normal sound, but it was the most painful sound Taimin had ever heard. He was desperate to cover his head with his arms, but his hands were bound. He curled up in agony.

His vision blurred as the pain went on and on. He was dimly aware of Milton standing near the entrance to the cavern, utterly motionless with his eyes eerily showing the whites. The ground was littered with skalen, all collapsed, heads in their arms and mouths open.

Neesal’s javelin was gone from Taimin’s throat. The young skalen writhed on the floor nearby. Meanwhile Taimin struggled with the pain. Milton’s warning had prepared him for something, but it was little help. There wasn’t a skalen still standing. Kash was on one knee, trying to rise. The closest to Milton, Zaitan would be the first to make it to his feet. With his knife in hand, the scar-faced skalen began to straighten.

Taimin knew he had to get up. He fought the pain, just as he had fought physical pain his entire life. He got up on one knee. With his jaw clenched tightly, he gradually managed to rise.

Time slowed.

Zaitan snarled. Milton’s eyes were unseeing. The silent scream went on. Zaitan lunged, light glinting from the pale blade in his hand. Each beat of Taimin’s heart was clearly separated from the next.

Zaitan’s knife entered Milton’s chest near his heart.

The scream abruptly stopped. The pain in Taimin’s head vanished. Milton’s eyes closed, and then his knees began to buckle. Zaitan yanked out his blade, and a widening circle of blood stained Milton’s clothing, a moment before he collapsed.

Zaitan stood with his chest heaving. Milton lay in a crumpled heap a dozen feet from the cavern’s entrance.

But then Milton’s eyes snapped open once more.

He looked directly at Zaitan standing over him. Taimin didn’t understand what happened next, but the skalen holding the bloody knife shuddered. He gave a screeching, agonized cry. Zaitan frantically shook his head from side to side. His mouth was wide with horror. Whatever Milton was doing to him, it was terrible.

All of a sudden, Zaitan plunged the knife into his own chest. Then the scar-faced skalen fell to the ground, right beside Milton.

Milton’s body relaxed as his eyes closed for the final time. Aside from the howling wind outside, the cavern was silent. Selena’s father was dead.

But Taimin’s heart still raced, pumping blood through his veins. Time sped up once more.

Kash’s attention was on the two bodies near the entrance. Her warriors were prone on the ground. Taimin knew he had a narrow window of time to take action. He shot to the bench where his sword lay waiting and put his back to it. It took some fumbling with the scabbard, but the blade was sharp and the steel swiftly sliced through his bonds. The leather cord fell to the ground.

Taimin grabbed his sword and Lars’s axe. He raced over to Lars. Slicing through Lars’s bonds, he hauled him to his feet.

Taimin glanced at Milton.

Lars grabbed Taimin’s shoulder. “He’s dead,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Taimin and Lars ran together. The mouth of the cavern beckoned and then they burst free, out into the open air.

Taimin was stunned by what he found outside. Grit stung his exposed skin. The howling wind swept through the wide basin as sand streamed down the sides. The sky was yellowed, blurring the setting sun. The three tall peaks loomed overhead.

Taimin heard a cry and recognized Kash’s voice. They didn’t have much time before the skalen came after them.

“This way,” Lars cried, grabbing Taimin’s upper arm as he headed toward the basin’s slope. His head jerked when he encountered resistance. “What are you doing?”

Taimin pulled in the other direction. His attention was on the smallest of the caves. Lars tried to yank him away, but he wouldn’t be moved.

“I have to go in there,” Taimin said, raising his voice to be heard over the wind.

“Are you insane?”

“I promised Milton.” Taimin stared into Lars’s eyes. “We won’t get another chance.” He nodded in the direction Lars had been running. “You go. But I have to do this.”

“Fine,” Lars grunted. “Do what you need to do. I’m leaving.” He hurried away without another word.

Taimin hobbled alone toward the vertical gash at the bottom of the rock formation. Gusts of wind blew one way and then another as he passed the cactus grove. Only a few moments had passed since he’d left the skalen behind, but he still cast a swift glance in the direction he and Lars had just left, and kept his sword in hand. If he was attacked, he planned to fight back.

He sensed movement and his gaze shot to the side.

Lars caught up to him again. “Don’t you see?” he said. “That’s the first place they’ll look for us.”

“After all we’ve been through, I have to know what’s in there,” Taimin replied. “I have to know the truth.”

A strong flurry of wind punched into Taimin’s back just as he reached the cave’s thin mouth. He plunged inside with Lars just behind. Immediately the wind’s roar lessened.

In the low light Taimin again took in the initial, circular cavern. The rough rock wall confronted him. He looked toward the bend, and the path that followed the tunnel around the corner.

“Taimin.” Taimin turned. Lars had stopped just inside the entrance. “You go,” he said. He indicated his axe. “I’ll hold them off.”

“Lars—”

“I’m putting my faith in you,” Lars said. “Now go. Don’t let me down.” When Taimin’s mouth opened Lars cut him off. “I’ll be fine. A child could hold this entrance. Go!”

Lars stood at the entrance and peered out at the flurries of sand billowing in and out of the gully. Taimin reached out and gripped the big man’s shoulder. Kash and her warriors might already be on their way. If Taimin didn’t seize his opportunity, it would be gone forever.

Moving quickly, Taimin followed the path as it wound between opposing walls of rock. He rounded the corner, ducked under an overhang, and came to the stones and boulders littering the ground. The vast, deeper cavern opened up.

Taimin focused on the glowing crevice ahead of him. Green light bathed his skin.

Soon he was clambering over boulders, near where the cavern’s rear wall had collapsed. Green particles swirled in the air, passing his eyes like shooting stars. He reached the flat rock where he had seen the metal rings transformed.

He did his best to ignore the pain in his foot as he stepped over one last boulder and climbed into the fissure. The green glow was cool; ever-present, but far from blinding. He took one more step and then he was through.

Taimin saw the same smooth gray surface he had encountered in the desert. This time it formed a wall directly in front of him. There was an opening, a gap in the gray wall where it had split open. Through the hole was a floor of the same gray material.

As green specks swirled in the air, he took a deep breath and entered.

27

Goodbye, Selena.

Selena stopped with her gaze fixed on the three peaks in front of her. Her father’s voice was so soft it was barely a whisper. His tone was sad.

There is something I must do. I don’t expect to live, but I might save your friends.

Selena felt the blood drain from her face. I don’t understand—

I don’t have long. Please . . . don’t be sad. Be happy that we found each other. I fully own the mistakes I made. Seeing you alive brought me joy . . . I don’t want that to be tarnished by regrets on your part. I will always be proud of you. Remember, mystics can do wondrous things. We can hurt, but we can help. And some things we can do are simply beautiful.

From across the distance separating them, Selena’s father passed her a frozen image. She knew immediately that it wasn’t from her own memory.

It was from his.

She saw two male arms that held up a baby. The baby was laughing as she was raised up high. It was an image of pure joy.

Selena had no doubt that her father was saying his last farewell. Father?

Her eyes widened. “He’s gone,” she said aloud.

“What?” Ruth cast her a swift look.

“My father . . . He said goodbye to me. I think he’s dead.”

“We’re nearly there,” Vance said grimly. He raised his voice to be heard above the wind. “Maybe he’s just trying to stop us from coming.”

Selena knew in her heart that it wasn’t true. Her father had been taken from her before she had even come to know him. Despite what he’d said, she felt bitter regret twist at her insides. He had tried to talk to her. She had pushed him away.

She set her mouth in a thin line as she walked even faster. Ruth glanced her way, but Selena said nothing. Something was happening at the three peaks. Fear had taken hold of her.

She had no way of knowing if any of the three people she last saw at Milton’s homestead were alive. Taimin might be dead, and Lars.

A short distance in front of her, the three tall triangles of brownish rock were tantalizingly close. The terrain had leveled out. They were making good time.

Ruth’s scream cut through Selena’s thoughts. Vance cried out. Selena turned her head sharply.

The sandstorm struck with incredible speed.

One moment the three peaks were in view, closer with every footstep. The next they vanished in a swirl of dust and grit.

The horizontal cloud of sand surrounded Selena. The wind was suddenly made solid. Particles smashed into her body. Both Vance and Ruth disappeared, then reappeared. The sandstorm ebbed and flowed, so that in brief flashes Selena could see; other times she was completely blind. The wind no longer howled, it roared. She was forced to duck her head, pressing her face into her chest. When the gust subsided for a moment, she tried to spot Vance and Ruth.

“We’ll have to wait it out!” Selena shouted when she saw them.

“Where?” Ruth called back before she was forced to avert her eyes.

“We need to find shelter!”

Another strong gust nearly knocked Selena off her feet. There was nothing she could do but sink to one knee and cover her face. She blinked. Sharp particles pierced her eyes but there was no use trying to wipe them away. She waited until the gust died down, then straightened. The haze cleared for a moment. Again the three peaks were visible just ahead.

“There!” Vance pointed.

Selena spied a big, square boulder, closer than the three peaks, but still far away. Sand had pressed up against the boulder’s side but there was a hollow below the leeward edge. She had no doubt the wind would rise up again before they reached it. Even so, they had to try.

“Come on,” she cried. “Stay together!”

Already she could feel the wind rising. She glanced to the side as she moved into a shuffling run. Fear trickled up her spine. She could see nothing of the horizon, only an immense cloud of yellow dust, climbing higher and higher. The sandstorm streamed across the desert as it headed directly toward her.

Vance was running between Selena and Ruth, just ahead of them both. When she realized what was coming, Selena lunged for his hand. “Vance! We need to stay together!”

She made contact with his palm as the wind tried to sweep her off her feet. Her fingers fumbled with his. Once again she was forced to close her eyes. She inhaled sand and began to cough, doubling over. But she sensed Vance move toward her and grip her hand firmly.

Bowed at the waist, Selena fell to her knees. She kept her face low and her eyelids pressed closed while she coughed. The back of her throat burned with terrible fire. This time there was no relief from the furious wind and horizontal sand. For all she knew, it would keep going for hours. Eventually, she managed to yank a blanket out of a gap in her pack and cover herself, working with one hand so that she could keep hold of her only contact with another human. With her head wrapped in cloth she was able to cough to clear the sand.

She felt pressure on her hand. Vance was guiding her up. She knew what he was trying to do. With no sign that the winds would abate, they had to get to the boulder.

Selena climbed to her feet, keeping her head enveloped as she staggered forward. Vance stumbled, but she held his hand tightly and he kept his footing. She tried to navigate by looking through a hole in the material and when the wind cleared for the briefest instant, she saw they were headed in the right direction.

The sand continued to fly. Selena gripped Vance’s hand. During another lull, she was able to look at the man beside her.

Cold fear stabbed into her chest. Ruth wasn’t on Vance’s other side.

“Vance!” Selena cried. “Where’s Ruth?”

He turned toward her, and his eyes shot wide open. “I thought you had her!” The wind subsided as he turned to scan in all directions, bellowing Ruth’s name.

Ruth was gone.

Selena searched with him. She forgot all about the stinging in her eyes as she looked back the way they had come and searched the ground for footprints. Her heart raced. She briefly saw Vance’s expression of horror. Soon another cloud of sand would smash into them.

Particles began to pummel Selena’s skin with drumming fingers that became painful needles. She was forced to put her back to the wind. The sheltered place near the boulder that she had seen just a moment before was gone, lost in the haze.

Vance cried into her ear. “What do we do?”

“Should we keep going?” Selena yelled as she leaned in close.

“She knows where we’re heading. She might already be there.”

Vance had barely finished speaking when the sandstorm doubled its fury. Together they held each other and stumbled in what Selena thought was the right direction. As time passed, she concentrated on planting one foot down in front of the other. At last, a dark shape appeared in front of her.

Selena grabbed Vance’s arm and they tumbled to the ground until they were sheltered in the hollow. But there was no sign of Ruth. Selena and Vance both cupped their hands over their mouths and called her name again and again.

Eventually Vance wiped a hand over his face. Grime covered his cheeks and dust covered his beard and moustache. “I have to look for her.” He began to stand.

Sand and grit streamed past the boulder in both directions. The wind shrieked, its volume louder than ever before.

Selena grabbed Vance’s hand and pulled him back to the ground. “You can’t.”

Vance looked stricken. “She could be anywhere. We could walk right past her and she’d never hear us.”

Selena saw the fear and desperation on his face.

She had to do something.

As Vance returned to shouting Ruth’s name, Selena cast her mind back to the time when Rei-kika had first taught her to control her talent. She tried to picture a pure, white symbol, but it vanished before she could hold on to it. Rather than glow, it was wan and faded.

“Please,” she muttered.

She had to use reason to find the source of her block. There was something deep inside her, a fear she needed to take hold of, an inner voice she needed to challenge. It was buried so deep she couldn’t hear it. But she needed to speak to it and hope that it would listen.

What was her block? It was something she had made herself. She had rejected her talent after the things she had done.

It wasn’t my fault, she said to the voice inside her.

She had nearly died when she severed her lifeline and traveled toward the stars. She was afraid. Afraid of what she could do. Afraid of the temptation of entering someone’s mind. Afraid of knowing an enemy’s thoughts, and seeing that they were a living, breathing, entity with fears and hopes, even as she planned to harm them. Just as she had done to Arren.

The voice finally spoke to Selena. See? What you are is evil.

But Selena could also hear another voice. The voice belonged to Vance, and was ragged with emotion as he called Ruth’s name.

Selena confronted the voice of fear with the voice of a desperate man.

She roared at the fear inside her.

The Protector had used her to kill, but her ability to farcast could also save lives. Ruth would die if Selena didn’t help her. If Vance had Selena’s abilities, he would use them to save Ruth without a second thought.

Finally, Selena thought of her father . . . Of the memories she had been able to revisit. She heard his voice.

Remember, mystics can do wondrous things. We can hurt, but we can help. And some things we can do are simply beautiful.

Something sparked inside her.

Selena’s eyes lost focus. She saw a bright, radiant circle that swelled even as she contemplated it. She poured her hopes into it and it grew bigger. It was a struggle to contain it, but she knew what she had to do. She imagined her hands wrapping around the radiant light. Only then did she allow it to float upward.

With the sensation of something being unfastened, Selena felt her power pull her free of her body.

Triumph filled every part of her being. She had done it. The sense of being in touch with her power made her feel that she could do anything.

She was farcasting again. She was free.

Looking down at herself, she saw she was directly above the black-haired young woman below. She looked at Vance, leaning toward the storm, calling Ruth’s name.

Selena directed her awareness to climb.

She rose high into the air, until she was above the boulder and continuing upward as she kept it in sight. Soon she was fifty feet in the air and still climbing. With the sandstorm gusting below, the scene was far different. Some areas were clouded, but others were clear, as the wind tugged the dust away. The sandstorm was at its worst where she had left Vance. But it wasn’t as wide as she had originally thought.

She swept her gaze over the land. As she searched intently, every rock drew her eye, every patch of gravel, every cactus that stood tall and solitary, somehow managing to survive against the worst the desert could throw at it.

Through the thick haze and billowing clouds, she saw a figure.

She headed straight for it, swift as an arrow. The rushing cloud of dust and sand swept along below her, often thickening, but other times thinning as it moved from place to place. At all times she kept her attention on the figure. She soon knew without doubt that it was human. The figure shifted, and turned to wipe away sand.

As Selena flew down from the sky, she saw Ruth in a valley between two dunes with her back to the wind, head between her knees and arms covering her head. Ruth vanished in a swirl of grit but then reappeared. Sand had almost buried her. Only part of her was visible.

Selena remembered her father speaking into her mind. She had done the same thing with Rei-kika as they casted together. Speeding toward her friend, she dived into Ruth’s mind without penetrating her vulnerable consciousness.

Ruth.

Once she had made contact Selena brought herself close to Ruth’s face. Even though the sandstorm was swirling around her, Selena’s form wasn’t physical. It was strange not to feel any of the grit that was slamming into Ruth.

Ruth shuffled. Selena?

You’re in the worst part of the storm. You have to trust me and walk.

I can’t.

Selena had never sensed such wretched fear from her friend. You can. I’m here. Let me help you.

What do I do? Ruth asked. Can you see?

Keep your back to the wind and stand.

The moments dragged out until Ruth staggered to her feet. The wind pushed at her and she nearly fell, but she managed to right herself.

Now walk with the wind at your back, but angled to the right. That’s good.

While she directed Ruth’s footsteps, Selena rose above the rushing clouds of dust hugging the ground. She watched as Ruth picked up speed when she reached the section of clear ground Selena had brought her to.

Good. You’re doing well. Turn more to the right. That’s enough. Can you see through the storm? There are a few dunes blocking the wind. It’s going to get better soon.

A moment later Ruth burst free of the densest part of the sandstorm. Selena now saw her friend revealed. Ruth coughed and wiped at her eyes while she walked. It was hard to tell that there was a young woman under all the dirt and dust.

Ruth put a hand on her pack. Can I drink some water? she asked.

You can. Look ahead. Can you see the three peaks? If you keep going toward them, you’ll leave the worst of it behind.

Where are you and Vance?

We’ll come to you. Don’t worry. I can always find you.

The fact that Selena could rely on her talent filled her with joy and relief. She left Ruth walking toward the three peaks and climbed the sky once more. She tried to find the boulder where she and Vance had taken shelter, but the wind had picked up again, bringing another cloud of dust over the terrain. It didn’t matter, though. She could see her lifeline revealed as a faint white cord connecting her to her body.

She was about to return when she stopped. For a moment she simply stared.

Two moving figures formed strange silhouettes at the limits of her vision. As soon as she wondered who—or what—they were, she began to travel toward them.

It couldn’t be.

The two figures were on high ground, following a ridge as they walked with long, determined strides. If they weren’t so tall, she might not have seen them at all. They were red in color. She caught sight of horns.

She descended from the sky, flying toward them until she came to a halt. As she hovered, taking in a sight that shocked her to the core, she experienced a strong sense of foreboding.

The horns of the tallest were curled into sharp spirals, while his smaller but still towering companion had horns that were straight and pointed. Both had flat, triangular faces, with angular ridges that gave them perpetual scowls. The monster in front had fiery eyes like red embers, while the female’s were dark and sinister. The giant with the horns and the elaborate costume carried a long spear.

Selena’s dread became sharp, rising fear.

The two monsters were only a short distance from the three rock formations looming above the basin that contained them.

Selena knew that spear. She remembered the giant growling at Taimin, saying he wanted him to die. The monster now walked with purpose. Why would he and his companion travel so far, to this isolated place, where there was nothing but these three peaks?

Whatever the situation was at the three peaks, it was about to get much worse.

She tried to come closer and sense their thoughts, but something pushed her away; touching their minds was impossible. The little green shards woven into their collars were aurelium. They were protected from a mystic’s intrusion.

What should she do?

Selena was torn. Vance needed to know that Ruth was safe, but at the same time, Selena had regained her ability to farcast. She was desperate to seek out Taimin. She needed to find him and warn him.

She decided to cast farther, to the three peaks.

Leaving the two giants behind, she flew toward the escarpment that obscured the lower parts of the rock formations. As soon as she was past the surrounding crest, she scanned the wide circular basin. Gusts of winds pushed sand down into the gully and whipped it up again to whisk it through the air. Selena felt none of it. She saw three caves, one at the base of each peak, but she didn’t need to enter any of them to see that a confrontation was underway.

A dozen skalen warriors surrounded the narrow mouth of the smallest cave. Nearly all carried javelins as they braved the pummeling winds to face the dark opening in front of them. A skalen in front, tall for her race, wore fine clothing and a fan-like necklace of glossy silver metal. Her nostrils flared as she hissed something to her companions and flashed her teeth.

The leader pointed at the opening and shouted again. With no sight of Taimin or Lars, Selena wanted to find out what was inside. She flew down toward the cave so she could hear what the skalen leader was saying.

She struck a wall.

The sensation of being repelled was stronger than anything she had felt before. She bounced off the invisible wall and tumbled over and over before she regained control. Wondering what had just happened, she tried again, this time more slowly.

As she neared the cave, she began to experience resistance. She flew away and tried to come in again from a different angle, but once more struck a barrier she couldn’t see. She could move wherever she wanted, provided she didn’t approach the cave that the skalen were facing.

Then she realized what it was she was experiencing. There must be aurelium inside the cave.

She wondered what to do. The two giants would reach the three peaks long before she could get there with Vance and Ruth. Yet she had no choice but to turn back.

Knowing every moment counted, she pulled on her lifeline. The world blurred around her as she traveled toward her body. She spied the square boulder, and there was Vance, standing and shielding his eyes as he called Ruth’s name into the sandstorm.

She saw a young woman—herself—on the ground with her coal-black hair draped over her face. Only a short time had passed since she had left.

She returned to her body and her eyes refocused. With no time to lose, she shot to her feet and gripped Vance’s shoulders.

“Vance. I found Ruth. Come on.”

“You found her?” He looked confused, and then realization dawned in his eyes. “Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” Selena said. “You’ll see her soon.” She grabbed his hand. “But we have to hurry.”

28

The temperature plummeted the moment Taimin stepped through the tear in the gray wall. It was already cool within the caves, but this was altogether different. Bumps rose on his skin. He gritted his teeth. For the first time in his life, he was truly cold.

He still held his drawn sword, and cautiously scanned for threats. He found himself in a wide corridor with smooth walls and floor. Rubble had blocked off the passage to his right; the tremor from the past had even brought down part of the ceiling. There was only one direction he could take.

Reminding himself that Lars was guarding the cave from the skalen outside, he began to follow the corridor as swiftly as he could manage.

He looked around in fear and wonder. He didn’t know what the gray walls were made of, but they were uncannily perfect. Aurelium floated in the air. The glowing organism danced in groups like constellations, and as he continued, the unmistakable signs of the life form became increasingly prevalent. Patches of green clung to the walls like moss. Aurelium coated the ceiling and even the floor, forcing him to step warily over it. This was nothing like what he had seen in the skalen mine.

There was so much of it.

Up ahead, some aurelium detached itself from one wall and floated across the corridor to attach itself to the other side. Whatever the walls were made from, it wasn’t metal, or they would have been eaten like the rings placed near the fissure.

As Taimin followed the passage, he tapped his sword against the wall. The returning sound was dull, rather than sharp. Definitely not metallic. Then he realized with horror that some aurelium had attached itself to his blade. He shook the sword and quickly wiped it on his tunic until all of the green particles were gone.

Taimin couldn’t believe he was inside the machine that once swallowed Selena. He was filled with urgency; he didn’t have much time to find a way to destroy or disable it. But at the same time, he was in awe of this utterly strange, alien place. His breath misted in the chill air. He shivered and rubbed at the raised hair on his forearms. His footsteps made little sound on the hard floor, but another noise, an irregular hum, came from all directions. The sound made his skin crawl; it felt as if the air itself was vibrating. It might have been his imagination, but as the hum became a rumble he thought the corridor was shaking, in multiple tiny increments. He heard a distant hiss and then the rumble faded back to a hum, but never went away altogether.

He waved his sword again to dislodge the aurelium clinging to it. As he watched the tiny specks swirl in the wake of his movement, he realized his pulse was racing. He reminded himself about the things he had learned from the skalen in the mine. It was cold enough that he didn’t need to worry about the aurelium detonating, but that didn’t mean he wanted his blade eaten away. At the same time, he was wary enough to keep his sword out.

Something was changing up ahead.

The corridor he was following looked like it would go on forever as it curved almost imperceptibly. Yet he now saw another corridor, far larger, opening up on his right. This next passage plunged in a direction that he was certain would tunnel toward the middle of the desert.

Taimin reached the new corridor. As he stopped and stared, his heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear the background hum.

He was staring into another endless corridor, stretching into eternity before it vanished in the distance, making it impossible to see the end. Patches of aurelium obscured the walls and ceiling. Bright green particles darted about. This was far, far more aurelium than Taimin had seen in the outer corridor. Everything in his vision was either green and glowing, or dull and gray.

He glanced back the way he had come. He could no longer see the tear in the wall that led to the world he had left behind. This place couldn’t be real. Surely he was dreaming. Who could build such a machine, or artifact, or whatever this was?

Lars was holding off the skalen—or so Taimin hoped. Milton had given his life so that Taimin could be here, now, inside the machine they had all been searching for. Five companions had left Zorn and traveled across the wasteland. They had faced dangers together. Relationships had been tested. Taimin owed it to everyone who had come with him to see his quest to its end.

He entered the wide corridor. If he was inside the body of a strange beast, perhaps he would find what he was looking for at its heart.

Now the green glow was strong enough to strain his eyes. He continued cautiously, and as he headed deeper into the corridor he saw a series of angular symbols on the wall up ahead. Rather than green, the symbols were white, and somehow emitted light so that they stood out against their surroundings. Each symbol comprised sharp, sweeping lines crossed together. Clearly they were intended to communicate something, although Taimin had no idea what it could be.

Then he remembered. He had seen a similar marking before.

He was taken back to the dried-up riverbed with steep-walled sides. A tall, horned monster stood over him, evidently wondering why Taimin’s leg had crumpled underneath him. The giant had a prominent, angular symbol on the breast of his striking costume.

Taimin knew then that it was true. Selena had been right. They had encountered the long-vanished race of builders.

But who were they?

A loud hiss from farther down the corridor returned him to the present. He had to keep moving. Lars would be able to buy him some time, but he was outnumbered and wouldn’t be able to hold off the skalen forever.

Taimin continued along the endless passage. In the distance, aurelium covered the walls and ceiling so thoroughly that all he could see was solid green light.

He fought his growing fear. All he knew was that he was in a place both fascinating and terrifying. A loud rumble came to a crescendo, then another shrieking hiss made his pulse quicken.

He gripped his sword tightly as he headed into the unknown.

“The first to enter will be the first to die!” Lars called out.

Lars waited just inside the narrow entrance to the cave and held his axe at the ready. He tried to picture the skalen outside. Intuition told him they were summoning their nerve to attack. They may be skilled with javelins, but Lars knew that a skalen was no match for a human in close combat. And nothing was closer than the place he had chosen to make his stand.

As he leaned into the rock, he was surprised to feel a gentle vibration. The reverberation grew stronger, then reached a climax. A strident hiss came from the direction of the cavern’s rear, making his head jerk around. He wondered what Taimin was seeing.

“Listen, human,” a skalen called. Lars recognized Kash’s sibilant voice. “All it will take is one miscalculation and the aurelium could ignite.”

Lars frowned. Taimin had described what he had seen. He hadn’t thought about the danger.

“You need to leave.” Kash’s tone became urgent. “Be gone from this place, and never come back. If you leave now, you can go in peace.”

“Don’t you want to know what it is?” Lars demanded.

Kash sounded exasperated. “We know what it is. It is a machine that produces aurelium.”

Lars shook his head, though no one could see him. “You fools,” he called back. “Have you ever thought that maybe it doesn’t produce aurelium? Something keeps it rumbling and blowing fire. Maybe aurelium is what it consumes.”

There was a pause, before Kash called back. “To what end?”

Lars stepped out so that the skalen could see his axe. He kept half his body obscured, mindful of the javelins pointed his way.

Out in the open, Kash and her dozen warriors stood buffeted by the wind. The haze thickened as a strong gust swept grit into the basin. For a moment the group of skalen almost disappeared from view, before Lars saw a flash of Kash’s face along with two warriors beside her. If the skalen weren’t so desperate, Lars had no doubt that they would be hiding safely in their residence.

Lars shouted to be heard above the sandstorm. “I told you. We think we know what the machine is—!” He faltered, trailing off.

A tall figure emerged from the cloud of dust, to the right of the skalen grouped nearby. The giant’s head was triangular and bore two curling horns. His face was set in an expression of menace.

Lars’s blood ran cold as he immediately recognized the towering creature and the long spear with the vicious blade at the end.

“Humans . . .” the giant growled as he glared at the skalen.

Then the giant saw Lars. He roared, lifted his spear, and began to take long strides.

Lars ducked inside the cave. He stood frozen with his back pressed against the wall. He knew he had to do something. He had never let fear paralyze him before.

But at the same time, he couldn’t escape the feeling that death had come for him and there would be no escape. The giant had shown himself at the riverbed and then left abruptly, like a vaguely recalled nightmare. Now he was back. Lars had been chosen.

A few heartbeats passed. Lars shook himself. He turned and glanced toward the direction Taimin had taken. Perhaps he should follow . . .

The giant ducked his head to enter the cave.

With a rock wall at his back, there was nowhere for Lars to go. As the giant spied him and lunged, Lars tried to lift his axe but the monster was fast. The giant’s hand took him by the neck. The axe clattered to the ground.

As the giant’s grip closed ever more tightly, his red eyes narrowed.

“Where . . . ?” The rasping sound whistled as it passed through the giant’s rows of yellow teeth. “Where . . . Taimin?”

Lars could barely breathe, let alone speak. He shook his head. The movement was little more than a twitch.

“Where . . . ?” The giant’s head moved, and the tip of a crimson horn scraped against Lars’s cheek.

The grasping fingers squeezed to choke off Lars’s air supply. Stars sparked in front of his eyes. The edges of his vision darkened. The darkness encroached, until only a circle remained visible, centered on the fiery eyes gazing into his soul. Lars’s chest convulsed. He tried to draw air down his throat but heaved in vain. He knew he was about to die.

The monster relaxed his grip. “Where . . . ?” he rasped again.

Lars gasped. He summoned his strength. This would be the last thing he did. Taimin had entered the machine, which was vast enough to span a desert. Lars opened his mouth and bellowed, “Taimin! Run!”

The giant whirled to throw him with force.

The world flashed by. Lars smashed into the hard rock wall. All he knew was that his back and skull took most of the impact. He was surprised he couldn’t feel any pain.

He lay crumpled on the ground. His head felt broken. His vision wavered.

He was dimly aware of the second giant, the female, entering the cave. The two rumbled to each other in their strange language. The bigger giant strode in the direction Taimin had taken while his companion trailed behind him.

Lars’s eyes slowly closed.

Ingren glanced back at the crumpled human but Ungar moved on, heedless of the carnage he left behind him as he pursued the fulfillment of his quest. Ungar ducked under an overhang, then the tunnel opened into a wide cavern, and he and Ingren were both able to straighten.

Ingren stopped.

This wasn’t supposed to be what happened.

She had wondered why the humans had an interest in the desert. It was an odd choice of destination. She knew what was here, of course, so close to the firewall’s edge, in a place where few members of the five races would settle. But it was supposed to be sealed.

She saw the broken boulders near the vertical fissure. She took in the green glow pouring from somewhere deep inside, and the specks of aurelium swirling in the air. The humans had found what was supposed to remain hidden. They had discovered a way in.

Ahead of Ingren, Ungar was already stepping over the rubble. He placed a hand on the edge of the glowing opening to pull his large body through.

“Ungar, this is wrong,” Ingren said. “I advise you to stop. Immediately. We should not be entering.”

Ungar came to a halt. He paused in the opening, his body silhouetted by green light. He turned his head.

“You say we should not be entering, but a human is already inside. It is right that I hunt him down. You must follow, bondmate. Now come. This quest is nearly at an end.”

29

Selena’s heart raced as she reached the three peaks. She knew that the two menacing creatures hunting them would have already arrived.

When she glanced over her shoulder to check on Vance and Ruth, she was surprised to find the golden sun was low, making it late afternoon. She could again see the strip of red on the horizon, indicating the firewall. As the sandstorm came to an end, the haze of dust cleared to reveal the color blue.

Remembering the scene she had farcasted, she took the shortest route to the long, low escarpment. The three peaks towered over the area. The surrounding basin slowly became visible. She had no idea what she would find below.

Her father had said farewell. He would have contacted her again if he was still alive. She was forced to ignore the squeezing in her chest. Taimin and Lars might be in grave danger.

Selena didn’t understand why the giant with the curling horns had left the first time, but he was back. He had said he wanted Taimin to die, but then he had let him live. She had a terrible foreboding that he was here to finish what he had started.

Taimin was a strong warrior. He had been trained by Abigail, a woman whose reputation as a fighter was legendary in Zorn. Abigail had fought in the arena and won her freedom, years before Taimin was born.

Even with his injury, Taimin had survived his own battles in the arena. But this was an opponent he couldn’t defeat.

Taimin was only a short distance into the wide, glowing corridor. All of a sudden, he stopped and cocked his head. The shout was faint, but desperate, and cut through the hum that came from all directions.

“Taimin! Run!”

His breath caught as he heard Lars’s voice. He glanced back the way he had come. The skalen must have entered the cave. Milton had killed Zaitan, the most vicious of them. Would the others take Lars prisoner? Or would they want vengeance?

Thoughts whirled through his mind. He wanted to turn back, but he knew his chance wouldn’t come again. He pictured the red sky and blackened ground at the firewall. He saw the bodies of his parents as they turned to ash. He remembered standing on a dune and watching a vent release a burst of searing heat.

Somehow, this strange machine powered the wall of fire that separated the wasteland from the lush vistas on the other side. If the firewall remained in place, the population of Zorn would perish. Even if a new source of water was found, the city would find itself under assault again and again. The wasteland’s denizens would live forever in conflict, like animals fighting over a waterhole, unaware of the lake nearby. Without the firewall, everyone could build better lives.

He had to push on.

Aware that enemies were approaching, he moved with haste. Larger patches of aurelium clung to the walls. The gray floor rumbled beneath his feet. Another hiss sounded like it came from somewhere farther down the corridor.

He glanced at the wall and started. He had become used to the angular symbols, but now realized he was looking at a bright white image of a spoked wheel. A red light blinked on one of the wheel’s spokes.

Taimin wondered what it was, until he realized: the image must be telling him where he was in relation to the rest of the machine. It was so immense that he had barely made any progress.

He had to find its center.

But as he contemplated the image, his heart sank. He would never get there before the skalen found him, not at the rate he was traveling.

He then noticed something else.

After the map of the wheel he saw another symbol. Its meaning was unmistakable. It looked like an arrow, and Taimin was familiar with arrows. The arrow pointed in the direction he was traveling. It was blinking blue. Unthinkingly, he reached out and touched it.

The arrow ceased to blink. Now it was solid red.

Taimin gasped as the floor started moving. There was no accompanying sound; his only knowledge that anything was happening came from the walls sliding past. As the moving walkway picked up speed, he hurried to sheathe his sword.

His eyes shot wide open as the walls began to fly by, faster and faster. He felt a breeze in his face. It grew stronger until a fierce wind stung his eyes. There was something strange about it. The wind wasn’t just the result of his speed, it was holding his body upright to keep him on his feet.

He braced himself, legs far apart, one forward and the other back. The walls began to blur. He was passing them faster than his eyes could follow.

From the map of the wheel, he knew that the first corridor he had found was the rim, and now he was traveling along a spoke.

He was being taken at an incredible speed, directly into the machine’s heart.

Lars groaned.

His eyes were tightly closed, but he had no strength to open them. He was terribly conscious of his heartbeat, which was slow, steady, throbbing, pounding, building to a roar . . .

When the pain in his head reached a climax, he groaned again. Each pulse of agony had to be dealt with on its own. For a time, he could think of nothing else. He tried to focus on his breathing rather than the drum-like rhythm of his heart.

Breathe in. Slowly exhale. Breathe in again. Gasp. Let the next breath out more slowly.

He could hear a high-pitched note, continually ringing, and wished it would go away. He tried to tell himself there was no note. The sound was like Milton’s mystical scream, something inside his head.

Focus on the breathing. That was working.

His body was awkwardly crumpled on a hard floor. One of his arms was twisted behind his back, pinned between his shoulder blades and a rough rock wall. He shuffled, but then gasped when the pain in his head sharpened. It took some time, but he managed to free his arm, and his immediate instinct was to feel around his bald crown. He felt wetness. Blood, without a doubt.

First one of his eyes opened a crack, then the other. Where was he? His vision was blurred, but slowly took focus. He saw a vertical split in the rock wall: a cave mouth. Slanted afternoon sunlight shone through the gap.

He opened his eyes as the memories returned.

Taimin!

The giant with the curling horns had mentioned Taimin by name. Lars knew he had to stand. He had to . . .

He winced, and his body went limp. His eyes drifted closed again.

30

Selena followed the basin’s perimeter and frantically scanned the area below. The three rock formations clustered around the edges, like a group of tall companions in pointed hats, huddled together to take shelter from the desert winds. In the failing light each peak cast a long shadow. She saw cactuses and strewn gravel. Each cave mouth was dark, but there was only one she was interested in.

As before, the dozen skalen faced the smallest of the three openings. When Selena had farcasted them, the skalen had been angry as their leader shouted something toward the cave mouth. They were still agitated, but now their posture seemed different . . . fearful.

Selena’s jaw was tight. She couldn’t see the two giants, but she guessed that the skalen had.

She heard Vance calling her name. Seeing that they were about to descend into the basin, Vance had come to a halt.

“Do we have a plan?” he asked.

Ruth was still covered in dust. They all were. “Selena?”

“We don’t have an alternative,” Selena said. She watched the skalen below. “We’ll have to go and talk to them.”

Without waiting for agreement she started to clamber down. While Ruth and Vance hurried to follow her, she was filled with urgency as she thought about Taimin, Lars, and her father. They had been searching for a way into the buried machine. Perhaps they had found it, but the skalen had tried to stop them. Her father was dead; she knew it in her heart. Taimin and Lars could be inside the cave. The two giants might have pursued them.

Some of the younger skalen were arguing with the leader when a skalen caught sight of Selena.

“Selena . . .”

She glanced back at Vance. He had placed a hand on the sword at his waist, but she shook her head; there were too many skalen to fight. Instead she continued to walk with determined strides toward the group.

As soon as she was close, she heard a skalen say something to a companion.

“More humans,” he spat.

The dozen warriors and their leader turned to face the three approaching humans. Every skalen was armed and their reptilian eyes were angry.

Selena walked directly to the leader. “We’re looking for our friends—”

As soon as she spoke she heard a threatening hiss from the skalen. Immediately they fanned out to encircle the three humans.

“This is our land,” the leader said as her nostrils flared. Her hands were free, but she had a long knife at her belt. “Why will you not leave us alone?”

“Where are they?” Selena persisted.

“They are in there.” The leader thrust out her arm to point at the cave mouth nearby. “Something . . . creatures . . . also . . .”

“Giants,” one of the younger skalen offered.

“Is that what they are, Kash?” an older skalen asked.

“I do not know what they are,” Kash said flatly. She scowled at Selena. “What do they want? The big one just said the one word: humans. They entered as soon as they saw one of you inside.”

A young skalen with golden eyes spoke up. “Maybe they want human hair. Or blood.”

“Or meat,” said one of his companions.

“Urgh,” said another. “Human meat.”

“How big is it inside?” Vance asked as he inspected the narrow opening. Reaching a conclusion, he confronted the skalen leader. “Our friends found a way into the machine, didn’t they? And you tried to stop them.”

Kash hesitated, reluctant to reply. “It is never good to investigate what you do not understand. It is what it is. Something beyond our comprehension. A machine that produces aurelium.”

“Move out of the way,” Selena said to Kash. “We’re going in there.”

“You will do no such thing,” Kash snapped.

Selena tried to keep her voice calm, despite her taut nerves. “Move,” she said again. “Why would you stop us?”

“All I care about is ridding myself of you humans and whatever those other creatures are.” Kash pondered for a moment. “Perhaps you could be of use . . .” She came to a decision. “Neesal,” she nodded, “take that one prisoner.”

With a swift lunge, the golden-eyed skalen grabbed Ruth and yanked her arm behind her back. Ruth cried out and struggled. As she shoved an elbow toward her captor’s face, he dodged out of the way, and then she gasped with pain as he twisted her wrist. Vance took a step forward, but three skalen blocked him. Holding Ruth close, Neesal lifted his javelin and hovered it close to Ruth’s face.

“Do not move,” Neesal said.

Ruth went still. The three skalen warriors forced Vance to back away.

“Now.” Looking pleased, Kash turned her attention to Vance and Selena. “I have a task for the two of you.” She indicated the cave. “Enter. Find your friends, although my guess is they may already be dead. If you encounter those two creatures, good. They seek humans and will give chase. Lure the giants out and we will kill them with our javelins. Do as I say or this one dies.”

Vance’s expression was murderous. “Let her go. We can all go in together.”

“That is not an option,” Kash said. “Our weapons are designed to create fire on impact. There is too much aurelium inside the machine. You must bring the creatures to us.”

Ruth stood utterly still. Neesal held his javelin point against her cheek, just below her eye.

“Hurry,” Kash snapped. “Lure those creatures out.” She inclined her head toward Ruth. “Or suffer the consequences.”

“Vance . . .” Selena said.

“If you hurt her . . .” Vance glared at Kash.

“Vance,” Selena repeated. She took his arm. “Come on.”

Selena stepped into the cave, trying to make sense of the interior while her eyes adjusted. At first, she just caught the outlines of shapes, but as Vance entered behind her, she soon saw a long rock wall, with what appeared to be a bend at one end.

“Taimin?” Selena called. “Lars?” As her eyes became accustomed to the low light, she cried out. A man lay crumpled on the ground against the wall. She saw a bald head and thick black beard. “Vance!” she shouted.

She ran over and for a moment thought Lars was dead. His eyes were closed and blood stained his scalp. But then she saw matching red on the fingers of his right hand. She tried to make sense of what had happened. Someone had thrown him against the wall. He had regained consciousness for a time and wiped his head with his hand.

“Lars?” Vance sank down beside Selena and began to shake Lars’s body. “Come on, old man. You’re too tough to die.”

Lars groaned. His eyelids fluttered. “Stop,” he said hoarsely. His hand moved as he feebly tried to swat Vance’s arm. “Stop that, you . . . fool . . . Hurts.”

“Lars, it’s Selena. Vance is with me. What happened?”

Lars screwed up his face. “Is it bad?”

Selena peered at the back of his head. She saw an area thick with blood. His skull was still in one piece; at least, she thought it was. “I can’t tell. You need to see Ruth.”

“Then go get her,” Lars muttered.

“We can’t,” Vance said. “The skalen have her.”

Lars visibly sagged. “They have Ruth?”

“Lars, listen to me carefully,” Selena said. “Where is Taimin?”

Lars started. He lifted his head and winced. “By the rains . . . Taimin. He’s inside. The entrance. It’s here.”

Selena straightened. Vance tried to help Lars stand while she clenched her fists at her sides. She focused on the shadowed section of the cave, where it formed a bend.

She hated dark places.

At just four years old, she had fallen into the machine and spent a long time searching for an escape. This might be the very way she had made her exit, after enduring a long time of utter torment.

“Selena.” She heard Lars’s voice behind her. “You should leave. Those two giants went after him. They know his name.”

Selena took a deep breath. Ignoring Lars, she began to walk. She continued until she had passed the bend. Reaching a winding tunnel, she saw a faint green glow. Visions and feelings came to her unbidden. She first experienced them in the mine. A sensation of being trapped.

Nonetheless, she kept going. The cavern opened up, and then she saw it. An evil, vertical gash in the rear wall, casting sinister green light on the rock around it.

Fear shot up her spine.

She realized she had stopped. Her limbs were frozen in place as she stared at the glowing fissure.

Taimin had said that if he was in danger, she should leave him behind rather than risk her life. She was in a place filled with aurelium. Her abilities wouldn’t do her any good.

But the decision wasn’t his to make.

“Vance, take care of Lars,” she called over her shoulder.

She raised her head and walked with purpose. Her footsteps took her directly toward the glowing crevice, and the strange machine that had robbed her of her childhood.

31

The moving walkway slowed and then came to a sudden stop. The corridor had ended. Stunned by the speed he had experienced, Taimin took a shaky step forward.

He didn’t need a map to tell him he had come to the machine’s heart.

A wide, vaulted space opened up in front of him. Each wall was at a slight angle to the next, giving the immense room an octagonal shape. Taimin walked cautiously, staring in all directions, awestruck as he took in the ceiling, high overhead. The white tower in Zorn could have easily fit inside the huge chamber.

Groans and rumbles joined the background hum. The noise was no longer faint; when it swelled up, it stunned the senses. Aurelium sparkled in the air, dancing and swirling around itself, making long, glowing streaks. The walls were entirely green; bright tendrils clung everywhere, piled one on top of the other. Flecks dripped to the floor like tears.

Now that Taimin was at the center of the wheel, there were other corridors, each embedded in a facet of the surrounding wall. As he realized each corridor was marked with a different white symbol above it, he took note of his: a shape that resembled a crescent moon. He looked back to confirm there was a blinking blue arrow, pointing the way he had come.

He let out a slow breath, and headed deeper into the vaulted space.

Every time he exhaled, a vaporous cloud expanded in the frigid air. The sense of awe that accompanied every footstep shifted. It started to become something else. His heart was pounding. He shivered, but not just from the cold. When he saw the city of Zorn, he had wondered who could build such a thing and then vanish with barely a trace. Yet the city’s builders had more power than he had realized. Now . . . now he was afraid.

This was nothing like Zorn.

Farther from the walls, there was less aurelium in the air, although the occasional green speck still floated by. In contrast to the glowing perimeter, the middle of the space, where Taimin was heading, was shrouded in darkness.

The ground trembled. For a moment it felt as if the floor was bucking until the rumble subsided. Taimin took step after step, filled with apprehension about what he might find. There was something ahead. Something even blacker than the general darkness.

He was heading toward a circular void in the middle of the floor.

As he neared, he saw a shaft, like a well, with a deep, dark interior. The gaping hole was forty or fifty feet wide and, like the observation room at the top of the tower in Zorn, there were no rails.

The only other feature was a platform. At the edge of the void, it was something like a podium, accessible via a series of steps made of the same gray material as everything else. It struck him that they were the same height and width as the steps in Zorn.

Taimin paused at the bottom of the steps. He was close enough to the void to look into it, but couldn’t see any bottom. Surely it couldn’t plunge down forever?

He returned his attention to the steps. On the platform was a raised stand, with a black, glossy, table-like surface at chest height.

He began to climb.

The few steps were awkwardly spaced but easily ascended. He focused on the strange table that bordered the void.

As he crossed the platform to reach the table, everything began to shake. He saw a change down below, deep in the void. It was a faint green glow, but as he watched, the light became brighter. The rumbling increased in strength. The green light at the bottom of the void changed color. It shifted to red, then pulsed, so fiercely it was almost painful to look at. He heard a great rush of wind, high-pitched and powerful. A crashing sound split the air, then the glow at the base of the void was green once more.

Taimin experienced a rush of vertigo and planted his hands on the black table’s surface to steady himself.

Something happened.

He didn’t know what he had done, but a blue light flashed on the table, similar to the blinking arrow used to activate the moving walkway. The light became red. At the same time, hovering over the void, an image appeared.

Taimin gasped. He found himself looking at an irregular ellipse. The image pulsed slowly, shifting hue between pink and deep crimson. Taimin had seen this shape before, on the map in Zorn.

It was the firewall.

He tried to breathe slowly to steady his nerves. Milton had been right all along. This immense machine was what gave the firewall form. The boundary of fire turned the sky red and scorched the ground. It trapped everyone—humans, bax, skalen, trulls and mantoreans—in the wasteland.

The city’s builders, those of a strange sixth race, had erected the firewall. They had taken away the inhabitants of the wasteland’s greatest possession: their freedom.

Even as he considered the image in front of him, Taimin’s awe and fear mingled together. The transparent image hovering over the void was a thing of magic. The machine was vast beyond belief.

But he renewed his determination. When he focused on the table, he saw more blinking lights. His resolve grew as he realized he hadn’t come to the machine’s heart at all. This was its brain.

Taimin knew that some things never changed. It was easier to stop something from working than it was to keep it functioning. A bow could be broken over a knee. A fire could be extinguished. Killing something was always simpler than keeping it alive.

If the green inferno at the base of the void was the machine’s beating heart, then one of the blinking lights in front of him must tell the heart to stop beating.

He could do this. To be here, in this place, he had survived the wasteland, the arena, and the journey to the desert. It didn’t matter if his childhood injury was always going to hold him back.

He suddenly understood the truth. Would he have been so determined to keep going, no matter what was thrown at him—to be strong in the face of adversity—if he had never been injured at all?

Selena once said that everyone had something that made them unique. The only thing holding Taimin back was himself, and his fixation on his own perceived weakness. His injury wasn’t stopping him from being with Selena. He was.

Now that he was here, nothing would stop him. He was going to destroy the firewall. He reached forward with a shaking hand. He had no idea what would happen when he touched the black table and the first of the blinking lights.

But then his hand froze in mid-movement.

He heard a new sound, gradually becoming louder than the constant vibration. A moment later, he knew what it was: footsteps and heavy breathing. His eyes widened. The footsteps must be close, to be audible over the rumbles of the machine. He had sheathed his sword when the walkway started moving.

He now wrapped a hand around the hilt and whirled.

32

Taimin wasn’t alone on the platform.

A clawed hand shot out to clasp the hilt of his sword. A face drew close to his. He saw a wedge-shaped head and a flat face with dark red, leathery skin. A gaping maw revealed rows of sharp teeth. As he stared into a pair of black eyes, he grimaced and struggled to move his hand.

His mind worked furiously as his heart thudded with a heavy, irregular beat. The two creatures he had encountered in the gorge . . . somehow, they were here. He was looking at a member of the race that built the city of Zorn. This machine was theirs.

Strangely, it was the smaller of the pair who held him: the female. Her short, pointed horns, pale yellow in color, were blunt rather than sharp. She nonetheless stood at eight feet tall and her arms were as long as Taimin’s legs. She was clad in the same drab gray clothing she’d worn when he last saw her at the cliff. His spinning thoughts even took note of the fact that she was covered in dust.

He struggled to understand. Previously she had hung back, unarmed and somehow less menacing as she watched her larger companion. Taimin’s eyes moved. His fear grew until he felt sick in the stomach.

The tall, powerfully framed giant with curling horns waited expectantly on the floor below the platform, legs apart and spear at the ready. He regarded Taimin with eyes like glowing embers. The ridges on his nightmare face had narrowed, giving him an expression of utter ferocity. His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out. The symbol blazoned on his costume matched the style of the marks above each of the corridors.

Standing on the platform, in the grip of a stronger opponent, Taimin was in a difficult but not impossible situation. His aunt had taught him to use his body in agile, unpredictable ways. He could duck and twist to get out of the hold. There was a chance he would lose his sword in the process, but if he moved in the right way, he should be able to keep it. It was a risk he was going to have to take.

As he tensed, prepared to take action, the bigger giant growled something unintelligible to the female; he appeared to be giving an instruction. The female gripped Taimin firmly, but had yet to hurt him in any way. She shifted and revealed something in her other hand.

It was the black box with the glossy surface that Taimin had seen previously. His breath caught. Fear and confusion fought each other in his mind. Lights sparkled across the box’s black surface. He had no idea what she was about to do, but he knew it couldn’t be anything good. She had fixed her attention on his foot. He had to take action now.

Even as he moved, she squeezed the box.

Swift as an arrow, a web of dancing lights and slithering wires launched from the box to wrap around Taimin’s lower leg. He gasped as his entire world filled with pain.

Taimin’s assailant let go of his hand, but any notion of drawing his sword fled completely. He collapsed, sprawled out on the wide platform. The female giant straightened and patiently gripped the flashing metal box. The web of wires tightened as it enveloped Taimin’s foot and lower leg. Lights danced on every strand. Shimmering colors traveled over the web as the terrible constriction continued. Jolts of agony pulsed through his body. Each flickering light stabbed needles into his flesh. The wires crackled like snapping branches. He screamed.

He was vaguely aware of the two creatures watching silently, the female with an aura of concentration, the male with impatience.

Then something strange happened.

As Taimin lay on the hard floor, body twitching and eyes darting around while he alternated screams and drawn-out moans of agony, he felt a completely new sensation. The pain began to ebb. His screams died away as he experienced a strange pulling together, a re-forming and renewal.

His bones were shifting. Something ruined was reassembling. The feeling of needles deep inside his foot changed to pulsating crunches, then altered again to a dull ache. Relief replaced the pain. The lights dancing along the web changed: soon the rainbow of color traveling through the wires was all gold, and then pale blue.

Taimin’s eyes widened.

He took stock of himself. There was no pain at all. He was on his back, his stunned gaze fixed on the female giant with the black metal box.

She nodded as if satisfied. After a short pause she squeezed the box once more. The web of wires unraveled itself from Taimin’s lower leg and vanished in an instant, returning to the box’s interior.

She then turned and walked away, leaving Taimin alone on the platform. He slowly climbed to his feet. Both feet. He couldn’t believe what had just happened to him. He could stand without the usual shift to the side to relieve the pressure on his right foot. There was no denying the evidence of his own body.

At the very moment when he had finally accepted himself, injury and all, these strange creatures had forced a change on him. They had put him back to the way he was born.

Somehow, unbelievably, he had been healed.

The two giants watched from a short distance away. This was their place. Neither of them paid any regard to the aurelium that swirled through the air and coated the walls. The ground rumbled and a powerful exhalation came from deep within the void. Meanwhile, the representation of the firewall continued to pulse as it hovered above the table at the platform’s edge.

Taimin’s relief shifted to fear. He knew these two strange creatures weren’t finished with him yet. They wanted something from him; that much was clear.

The tall giant spoke. “You. Taimin. Fight.”

To emphasize his words, he shook his spear and then pointed the blade of silver metal at its end. The female began to walk away, leaving her bigger, stronger companion standing below the platform.

Taimin reached for the hilt of his sword and drew it with a shaking hand. As the steel whispered against the leather scabbard, the tall giant nodded.

Meanwhile, the female returned to the pose she had adopted when Taimin first saw her. She waited apart from her companion, not far from one of the corridors. She held her box at the ready.

Taimin knew he had no other choice. He stepped down from the platform. The green glow shining from the walls silhouetted the figure in front of him. Taimin’s breath misted in the cold air. The tall giant exhaled his own cloud of vapor.

Taimin came to a halt, sword held ready. His palms were sweaty despite the cold. Whatever his enemy was, he had an unusual sense of honor. When he saw that Taimin was crippled he had left him alone. But now he had returned, and healed him, so they could fight on equal terms.

Memories of the arena in Zorn resurfaced. The situation Taimin now found himself in was much the same. He was about to battle for his life. He had to control his fear. Fear slowed the limbs and clouded the mind. He drew deep breaths to flood his lungs with air. He loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword; he had to hold it firmly, but not too tight.

In his search for courage, he reminded himself that he had learned to fight despite his injury. He had two good legs underneath him, and would surely fight better than he ever had before.

To survive, he would have to.

“You. Taimin?” the creature with the curling horns asked in a rasping voice.

“I am.”

The monster came forward with long, powerful strides. He moved much faster than his size would indicate.

Taimin shifted to the side, holding his sword point between them.

The tall giant attacked.

Vance groaned. Lars leaned on him as they left the cave behind, and the older man wasn’t small. Each step was hard fought. Lars staggered from side to side as Vance struggled to keep them both on their feet. Meanwhile, Vance’s attention was on Ruth. She stood frozen in place, with her arm twisted behind her back and a javelin’s point pressed to her face.

“Get your feet under you,” Vance wheezed. “I can’t do this alone.”

“I’m trying,” Lars grunted. “Just don’t . . . let me fall.”

Kash watched impatiently as the two men made their laborious way over to her. Lars tripped on a rock and nearly fell, but Vance caught him in time to settle him down to the ground.

Vance immediately turned to Ruth. “Have they hurt you?”

She shook her head. Her mouth was tight as Neesal held her fast.

“What about me?” Lars muttered from the ground. “I’m hurt.”

“Let her go,” Vance growled at Kash. “She’s a healer. My friend needs her help.”

“The human female . . . Where is she?” Kash demanded. “Where are the giants?”

“Selena’s inside.” Vance scowled. “She’s risking her life and you know it.”

As Kash turned to confer with her companions, Vance looked at Ruth again. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

Some color had returned to her cheeks. “I’ll be fine.”

Vance lifted his chin. “Kash,” he called, “I know your name, but you don’t know mine. I’m Vance. My injured friend is Lars. And the woman whose face you are about to cut is Ruth.” Neesal glanced at Kash, who nodded, and Vance was relieved to see the javelin move away from Ruth’s cheek. “Now, please,” he said firmly, “let her help my friend.”

“No,” Kash snapped. “She stays where she is.” She glanced at her warriors. “Be ready. Whatever comes, attack without hesitation.”

“My friend needs help,” Vance insisted.

“Silence!” Kash hissed.

Vance shook his head as he crouched to inspect the wound on Lars’s scalp. It was easier to see out in the open, despite the fading light. “How are you feeling?”

“Never been better,” Lars muttered.

“There’s a deep scrape and some blood. We need Ruth to look at it.”

“I’ll be fine. Just don’t ask me to stand anytime soon.”

As Vance continued to examine Lars’s wound, some of the skalen began to stir.

“This is taking too long,” Neesal said as he focused his attention on the cave. “We should send another human.”

Kash watched the entrance. “A little longer.”

“If you had killed the humans when you had the chance, we would not be in this situation.”

“Neesal, I am your clan leader.” Kash’s lips thinned. “Do as you are told.”

“What is your plan?” Neesal persisted. “If we are to fight together, we cannot also worry about the humans with us here. We should kill them all.”

Vance straightened and tried to ignore the sudden chill that trickled up and down his spine. “All of you. No one needs to die. We should work together instead. You think you have a machine that produces aurelium. We think it powers the firewall. What if we’re right?”

Neesal shook his head. “Stories and lies.” As Ruth struggled, he pulled her in tighter. “Kash, you know I am making sense.” A series of nods and mutters from the younger skalen greeted his words. “Surely we plan to kill the humans anyway. If we do it now, we no longer have to watch our backs.”

Vance looked to Kash for help; she was an unlikely ally, but surely she could do something. But Kash remained pensive. Vance’s fear grew when he saw that Neesal’s javelin had returned to Ruth’s cheek.

“You are clan leader, so lead,” Neesal said forcefully. “Make a decision. We need to kill, and keep killing, until things go back to the way they were before.”

Vance became frantic as Ruth stared at him. He tried to think what he could say to calm the situation. He had to do something. But he couldn’t think of any plan at all. Taimin and Selena had their own problems. Lars was injured. If Vance was going to do something, he needed to do it now.

33

The spear and the sword clashed together. Metal slid against metal while the muscles in Taimin’s arms screamed. He moved to yank his blade free. A quick sidestep gave him the potential to attack the giant’s back, but his opponent whirled to face him.

Taimin needed to get in close, but the spear was long and every time he tried to shove it to the side, his opponent’s strength prevailed. He continued to circle and search for an opening.

The sound of the two fighters’ heavy breathing mingled with the rumbles and hisses from the machine. The tall giant’s mouth was open as he panted, displaying his sharp yellow teeth. He tilted his triangular head, horns shifting with the motion, as he regarded the human warrior testing his skill. The temperature hadn’t changed, but Taimin was no longer cold. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Whatever the floor was made of, it provided solid footing, unlike the sands of the fighting pit in Zorn. For the first time in his life, Taimin was fighting on two good legs. His new dexterity felt incredible. He was faster than his opponent, and used his new speed to his advantage. As he watched his enemy’s narrowed eyes, trying to gauge his intentions, he made a sudden change in direction. The spear thrust at the wrong place, and Taimin charged.

He took two swift steps to get inside the giant’s reach and slashed at his opponent’s chest. Sharp steel sliced through his enemy’s clothing. A thin line of red blood appeared in an instant. Taimin narrowly avoided the tip of the spear as it whistled past his cheek. He backed away and glanced at the wound he had opened.

The cut wasn’t deep, but it proved Taimin’s steel could penetrate the giant’s rust-colored skin. His enemy could be killed.

Now Taimin’s adversary initiated his own attack. Wielding his spear in both hands, he brought it sweeping from overhead and came forward, slicing at the air. Taimin fell back; he could try to deflect it, but it would only weaken his arms and he needed to save his strength.

The fight had already taken him from the edge of the shaft, to the glowing wall, and back into the center of the space. He was keenly aware of the wall once again at his back. Green light bathed the giant’s face as he snarled. The light grew brighter. The wall was drawing too close. If Taimin was pinned against it, he would die.

He dived to the ground. It was a maneuver that would previously have sent pain shooting up from his right foot, but he executed it perfectly. For a time he was close to the flashing spear. Then he was past the huge creature and rolling. He shot back to his feet, and for a brief moment Taimin’s opponent didn’t know where he was.

Taimin slashed at the giant’s exposed back. This time his blade bit deep, opening up a hand-sized gash near the creature’s shoulder.

The giant roared. The bellow was deafening. The giant’s body shuddered the moment the sword struck home. He didn’t just bleed; clearly he also felt pain. The giant spun and brought his spear down from overhead.

Taimin took a risk. He leaped forward, toward the spear. The sweeping blade was a hair’s breadth from his body. He thrust the point of his sword toward the giant’s torso, attempting a killing strike, but his opponent arched his back and the thrust didn’t carry far enough.

The spear came down again, quicker than Taimin had expected. He brought up his sword and a sharp clang split the air as he deflected it just in time. His arms groaned, but he only held the position for an instant before the two weapons scraped across each other.

The giant recovered quickly. Forced to retreat, Taimin panted as he regarded his opponent, the strongest he had ever faced. The giant was huge, far bigger than any trull or bax, and more terrifying than a wyvern or a hellstinger scorpion. He had as much skill as Galen, the cold-hearted commander of Zorn’s city guard. He was obviously practiced with his weapon.

Taimin remembered his aunt’s training—year after year of grueling practice as he fought her in daily combat. He had been taught to find an opponent’s weakness and strike without hesitation. He had survived every battle in the arena. He had defeated the man who killed his parents.

But his doubt remained. He had employed every bit of skill he possessed, and still his opponent remained indomitable. Taimin had never fought an enemy like this. There was no advice from his aunt to draw on. If Taimin’s adversary had any weakness, he had yet to find it.

Taimin continued to back away while he searched for an opportunity to strike. He saw his enemy was about to initiate another attack and danced out of the way, thwarting the giant’s intentions. He was forced to put his back to the female, but nothing happened; she didn’t move. It seemed clear that she wouldn’t do anything but watch, standing ready in case she had to use her metal box to heal her companion.

Taimin still couldn’t find his opening. Fatigue was wearing him down. He needed to distract his enemy.

“You built the firewall?” he asked.

The giant didn’t answer. He shifted his grip on his spear while Taimin circled. In a flash the tall creature launched his sharp blade toward Taimin’s chest. Taimin weaved and sent his own weapon crashing into the spear to knock it aside. The forceful impact made him grit his teeth.

“Why?” Taimin demanded. “Why build it?”

The giant swung his spear toward Taimin’s neck. Taimin ducked under it, sinking to a low crouch before springing up again.

Still the giant showed no signs of tiring. He was breathing hoarsely, but Taimin’s chest was heaving as if he was in the middle of a sprint. He had the sense that his opponent could fight for hours.

They had turned in the struggle, and Taimin realized he was now facing the solid sheen of aurelium clinging to the wall. The green glow was blinding and he tried to shift, but the giant moved with him. Sweat dripped into Taimin’s eyes, further blurring his vision.

“Who are you?” Taimin asked. “Where do you come from?”

There was no answer.

Taimin decided to back away. The giant moved with him, occasionally swinging his spear with furious strikes that Taimin narrowly evaded. Forced to deflect the spear again, Taimin grimaced when the two weapons smashed together. If his sword had been made of basalt wood, rather than steel, he would already be dead.

Crimson blood seeped from the thin gash on the giant’s lower chest. More blood dripped onto the gray floor. Meanwhile, the machine made the ground rumble. A rush of wind came from the direction of the deep shaft at Taimin’s back. Aurelium danced in front of his eyes, but he tried to ignore it.

Taimin sensed that another attack would come when the giant shifted his grip on his spear. Farther from the walls there was more darkness. The rumbles from the deep shaft became louder, and Taimin knew that he was getting close to the void at his back.

The giant attacked.

Taimin had been expecting it, but this time the giant feinted, and Taimin moved the wrong way. The spear flew at his face and he had no choice but to attempt a desperate block. His arms told him that he couldn’t withstand the pressure. He would relax his wrists and dive to the ground, and then . . .

The giant gave a complicated twist of his spear. Taimin cried out. He could no longer hold on to his sword and felt the hilt yanked out of his hands.

There was nothing he could do as his sword sailed through the air. The weapon tumbled over and over. The sword fell into the void, gone forever. Taimin was now defenseless.

The giant gave a cry of triumph. As he hefted his spear, his red eyes narrowed.

Seeing that her companion was preparing to execute a killing blow, the female stepped forward, anticipating the end.

Taimin had fought with all of his skill. But his enemy was victorious. Death was coming. Now he would never know the truth.

The moving walkway came to a halt. Selena took in the scene immediately. She saw Taimin’s sword ripped from his hands. The monster with the curling horns raised his spear, about to end Taimin’s life. Taimin was a long way away, near a deep black hole in the floor. Even if Selena sprinted, she would never get there fast enough.

She didn’t allow herself time to think as she reached down and ripped the grapple from her waist. She swung the weapon above her head. All of her practice on the journey came back to her as her arm moved with strong circles. The tall giant glanced her way. The sight of her whirling the leather cord made him hesitate for the slightest instant.

Selena’s arm came down.

The leather cord, weighted with stones, flashed through the air. With a sharp crack the grapple smashed into the giant’s torso. Individual strands curled around his body. He gave a grunt of surprise and reeled.

Taimin launched into action and charged. The monster was already teetering. Taimin crashed into the giant’s chest, making him throw back his head.

On the very edge of the void, the giant struggled to regain his balance. With his spear held high, he looked down at the cord wrapped around his body. He had a choice: discard his spear and untangle himself, or take a last chance at finishing his enemy.

The giant continued to teeter as he lifted his spear above his shoulder. With a harsh cry, he threw the weapon with force.

Selena gasped as Taimin dodged to the side. The spear whistled past him and clattered to the ground, losing speed to slide along the smooth gray floor.

The tall giant roared. He waved his arms and searched in vain for something to hold on to. But the grapple had tangled his legs. He slipped and tumbled backward.

In an instant he was gone.

The female with the short horns gave a cry. Ignoring Selena and Taimin, she rushed toward the hole in the floor. Taimin raced to the long spear. Picking it up, he ran to Selena and grabbed her hand to pull her back into the corridor.

Selena took a final look back. She gasped.

It wasn’t over yet.

She saw the female, on her chest as she leaned down into the void. The bigger giant’s hand gripped the edge of the hole. Selena glanced at Taimin. She knew from his expression that he had seen it too.

Taimin slammed his hand against the blinking blue arrow.

The walkway began to move.

34

The walls of the corridor swept by with dizzying speed.

Wind rushed past Taimin’s ears and stung his eyes. It was impossible to run. All he could do was focus on keeping his footing as he gripped the long spear.

Aurelium swirled in the air and spread green filaments across the walls, although as they traveled more patches of gray appeared. Angular white symbols flashed past, too fast to make out any detail. The frigid air was cold as it entered Taimin’s heaving chest. All he could think about was escaping the remorseless monster trying to end his life. It felt like the corridor would go on forever. Already he had been traveling for a long time. Surely they must reach the end soon?

He frequently glanced back toward the machine’s heart, but the solid green glow farther down the corridor was too bright to see any detail. He couldn’t forget his fight. His enemy was still alive.

Then, as he watched over his shoulder, his eyes widened.

Now that there was more gray than green, he saw two dark, distinct shapes silhouetted as they blocked the surrounding light. He stared harder, and then the walkway began to slow.

The silhouettes became figures. Both were tall, appropriately sized against the wide, high-ceilinged corridor. One was larger than the other, with spirals on either side of its head. The two figures were distant, but Taimin’s hunter would never give up his pursuit.

Taimin’s gaze shot to Selena. Her face was pale as she stared in the same direction.

The walkway continued to slow, and then abruptly stopped.

The corridor had ended. Somehow part of the floor had the ability to move, and now Taimin and Selena were on solid ground, while behind them the two creatures continued to approach at speed.

All of a sudden, Taimin stopped.

Thoughts whirled through his mind. Rather than run, he turned to face the corridor. He glanced at the long spear in his hands.

He now had the only weapon. His enemy would seek him out until one of them was dead.

He had come all this way, and had discovered the very heart of the machine that powered the firewall. If he faced his fear, and ended this now, he still had an opportunity to accomplish what he came here to do.

“Taimin! We have to go!”

Taimin shook his head. “He’s going to keep coming. This isn’t going to stop until he’s dead.” He hefted the spear. “I have the only weapon. I can end this.” He nodded toward the way out. “You should go.”

“No,” she said. “I’m not leaving you.”

Taimin didn’t know what he could say to change her mind. His enemy would soon reach the end of the corridor. If Selena was going to go, she needed to go now. It was him the giant wanted.

He put as much strength into his voice as he could. “Selena,” he said. “This isn’t the time. You have to get out of here. Now!”

He turned away from her. Readying his weapon, he focused his attention on the long corridor that led to the machine’s heart.

Selena moved to stand beside him.

35

Vance’s jaw was clenched tightly. Veins throbbed in his neck. He knew that if he spoke a wrong word, blood would be spilled.

The younger skalen warriors flanked Neesal, who gripped Ruth tightly and held his javelin against her face. Meanwhile the older members of the clan surrounded Kash. The clan leader’s authority appeared to be draining away with every passing moment.

Vance watched Kash, who was clearly thinking. What was of more value, humans who were dead or alive? Should she send Vance to follow in Selena’s footsteps and flush the intruders out of her precious machine? Or should she allow Neesal and his friends to kill them?

Vance spoke directly to Kash. “There is another way,” he said. “We can work together. We will even fight alongside you.” When Kash didn’t respond, Vance took a step toward Ruth. He narrowed his eyes at the young warrior holding the javelin. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that if you harm her, I will kill you.” He glanced meaningfully at his sword.

“The human has a point,” said the oldest skalen in the group. “Our lives are more valuable than all the aurelium in the world. If those creatures return, we may need help.”

Vance watched as Lars climbed slowly to his feet. The big skinner’s crown was still smeared with blood. Lars took a deep breath and wobbled. He put a hand on the axe at his belt, but he was in no position to fight.

Neesal snorted. “What use are they?” He scowled at Kash. “You are too timid, Clan Leader. We can strike them all dead in an instant.” He nodded at his friends. “Come. We do not need permission.”

Vance tensed. If Neesal’s arm moved, he would do everything in his power to save Ruth. As he prepared himself, he wondered why Ruth was trying to get his attention. Ruth continued to shift her eyes and make small movements of her head.

Vance turned. As his gaze traveled upward, to the wall of the basin, he blinked. His mouth dropped open.

“Make another move and my friends will kill you all.” As he focused on Neesal, Vance now put steel into his voice.

“Friends?” Neesal sneered. “What friends?”

“Those friends.” Vance lifted an arm to point.

Dozens of bax stood above the wide basin, marked out by the setting sun. Vance saw familiar figures among them: Den, Bagrat, and the fat-bellied bax leading them. Gorax lifted his arm to wave his warriors forward.

“Gorax,” Kash muttered. She exchanged glances with Neesal. “And he has brought all of Gravel Range with him.”

“Gorax is a friend,” Vance said loudly. He nodded toward Ruth. “I suggest you let her go. Now.”

Kash hesitated. She watched the newcomers. Clad in leathers, carrying clubs, axes, and swords, the sturdy bax were bigger and stronger than the slender skalen, and easily outnumbered her small group. “Do it,” she snapped. “Let her go.”

Neesal scowled but released Ruth. She glared at him as she shoved her way free.

Lars shaded his eyes from the afternoon sun. “Made some friends, did you?” He glanced at Vance.

“We did,” Vance replied.

“What do we do, Clan Leader?” Neesal asked.

Kash released a hiss of displeasure. “It appears our secret is no longer ours to keep.” She alternated her attention between the newcomers and the mouth of the nearby cave. “We watch. We wait.”

36

Taimin hefted the spear. Despite its length, it was lighter than it looked. From the end of the wide corridor, he watched the two tall figures get closer and larger. He reminded himself that he had an advantage.

Even so, the giant with the curling horns made a formidable opponent. And then there was Selena, who stood just a few feet away. As Taimin gave himself some space to maneuver his weapon, he glanced at her. She was watching the glowing corridor with a determined look on her face. Frequent puffs of air misted from her lips as her chest rose and fell.

Taimin focused on the larger of the two approaching figures. Soon he saw his enemy’s flat face and the angular ridges below his brow. The giant’s clawed hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Rage filled his crimson eyes.

Taimin could now make out the giant’s mouth, parted to reveal rows of sharp teeth. The tall creature thumped his fist on his chest and roared, his bellow so loud it overwhelmed Taimin’s thudding heartbeat. Soon the monster would be within range of Taimin’s spear, if he chose to throw it. But to do so would be madness. He had to keep hold of his only weapon.

Taimin braced himself. As he readied his spear, he inspected the end of his weapon. The blade was no doubt made of razor-sharp steel, like the sword that had vanished into the void.

Taimin glanced again at Selena. He was surprised that when she spoke, her voice was steady.

“Look at the blade,” she said.

He followed her gaze. The aurelium swimming in the air had clustered to the blade, in the same way that it had clung to his sword.

She continued, “Remember when I was afraid, in the mine?”

Taimin tried to focus his thoughts. “I remember,” he said.

As he faced the corridor that led to the heart of the machine, and the two figures grew to dominate his vision, Taimin gripped the spear tightly. Soon the fight would begin.

“You organized a demonstration,” Selena said.

When he realized what she was trying to tell him, he drew in a sharp breath.

He repositioned the spear. He wrapped his hand around the metal blade, heedless of the sharp edge. The steel was cold. He imagined he could feel the aurelium beneath his grip, twitching, alive, as it felt the warmth of his body.

Selena reached out and laid her palm over his. Her other hand followed. The combination generated heat. The metal in Taimin’s grip no longer felt cold.

Time slowed as the two giants neared. The leathery skin on the taller giant’s face reflected the green light. His smaller companion waited at his side, metal box in her hands, ready to heal him if Taimin couldn’t manage a swift killing blow.

Taimin looked at the wall.

His gaze rested on a clump of aurelium, a wide patch with green sparks dancing around it. In moments the walkway would end, and the two giants would pass it. The tall giant would be the closest of the pair.

“Now,” Selena breathed.

Taimin and Selena both removed their hands.

The giant’s red eyes glared. “Taimin . . .” he growled.

Taimin raised the spear. He tensed and then threw.

He launched the weapon with all of his strength, using the muscles in his back as well as his arm. The spear shot through the air. The patch of aurelium on the wall by the monster’s head was big.

The giant’s eyes registered surprise. But then his expression changed to triumph when the point of the spear crashed into the wall. Taimin had lost his only weapon. His throw had done nothing. The air was simply too cold.

The spear clattered to the ground. The giant bent to pick it up.

Taimin saw the hint of something red on the wall.

Too fast for the eye to follow, the spark became a flame, and the flame engulfed the entire section of aurelium. With a sound like tearing paper the flame burst into a cloud. Tiny mites of aurelium sizzled in the air. The green glow on the wall shifted to a brilliant red. As the burst of flame engulfed the tall giant’s body, he bellowed with terrible pain. A wave of heat punched into Taimin’s face.

It was only the beginning.

Despite the growing flame, the giant grabbed his smaller companion and threw her forward. Already fire was traveling along the corridor, heading with incredible speed to the machine’s center. Each patch of green burst into red and ignited the next. The flames would soon reach the area where the gray walls could barely be seen beneath the aurelium.

In an instant the entire corridor was on fire. The flames didn’t just travel in one direction, they caught onto anywhere aurelium was nearby. Multiple blasts moved from wall to wall. A growing rumble became louder and louder. The air became sucked down the length of the passage.

The ceiling rippled with flame. Intense heat poured from all directions.

Taimin and Selena ran.

“Kash? Where is Kash?” Gorax demanded.

He still had a wide belly and spots on his scalp, but with his warriors around him, he now looked far more intimidating.

“Warden,” Kash said. “I am here.” Her lips parted in an expression somewhere between smile and snarl.

“These humans are friends, Clan Leader,” Gorax said flatly.

“This is our land—” Kash began.

Gorax silenced her with a swift motion of his hand. Up close, the difference in size between bax and skalen was pronounced. Gorax scanned the area, taking in the scene, and then turned to Vance. “So I take it you found what you were looking for?”

“Inside that cave is a path into the machine,” Vance said.

Lars nodded toward the skalen. “They’ve known about it for a long time.”

“We only use the cavern,” Kash said with a look of irritation.

Gorax pondered the nearby cave. “And you still believe the machine powers the firewall?”

Vance nodded. “We do.”

Kash’s voice was exasperated. “How could that be—?”

Gorax silenced her for a second time. “Some secrets should not be kept. There is a mystery here, and the answers lie not only with the humans and their city, Zorn—but also you skalen and this machine under the desert.”

“What mystery?” Kash asked with a frown.

It was Ruth who answered. “What is this world? Why are we here?”

Gorax scanned the area. “Selena . . . Where is she?”

“She’s inside,” Ruth said. “She needs our help.”

“Then let us do what we can,” Gorax said. He bellowed. “Warriors! Assemble!”

Vance was watching the cave when it happened.

A loud detonation came from somewhere ahead, somewhere deep. The accompanying roar was deafening. A series of blasts thundered one after the other. A growing crackle sounded like a raging fire.

The ground began to shake.

Vance exchanged glances with Ruth. All of the color had drained from her face. He looked to Lars, who was warily backing away from the place they had been about to enter. Gorax thrust out his arms to bring his warriors to a halt.

As the rumbling grew louder, Kash’s head jerked to the side as she stared in the opposite direction. “The younglings . . .” she whispered. She let out a breath of relief as several skalen poured out of the larger cavern with little ones in their arms.

Another boom came from the direction of the nearby opening.

“Selena . . .” Ruth said. Vance could only return her expression of horror.

Explosions followed one after the other. Vance couldn’t escape the feeling that the entire world below his feet was breaking.

“By the rains . . .” a gruff voice breathed from behind him.

Vance whirled to see a trull and a mantorean. The trull turned her round eyes on him. With her muscular frame and scars, it initially took him a moment to realize she was a female. She was also someone he would normally run from at first sight, but now she was just as stunned as he was. The mantorean was also a female, unclothed except for her belt and bow. Her antennae shivered with fear and agitation.

Vance returned his attention to the cave. A series of detonations now came from beyond the three peaks, farther into the desert. The heavens groaned. A howl filled the sky. A thunderous roar came from all directions at once.

Whatever was happening, all Vance could think was that the world was ending. The ground heaved, almost knocking him off his feet. A sharp crack sounded behind him. He saw the summit of the tallest of the three peaks tilt to the side as it sheared from the rest of the formation. In slow motion the immense spire of rock tumbled down until it smashed to pieces on the ground below.

Vance thought about Taimin and Selena.

He realized he might never see them again.

37

Taimin and Selena sprinted along a corridor of fire.

Taimin was just behind Selena. He had two good legs and could run at a speed he had once only dreamed of, but right now all he could think about was escape. Explosions came from all quarters. Heat waves rolled behind him and scorched his skin. He and Selena leaped through blazing circles and raced past walls of solid flame.

He blinked sweat from his eyes and saw a patch of aurelium that was still green. He grabbed Selena’s arm to yank her away from the wall. A moment later it burst into flame behind them. Neither of them looked back.

The ground suddenly heaved. As the floor buckled, Taimin skidded to a halt while Selena was nearly thrown from her feet. The gray surface split apart, tearing in multiple places that crashed against each other until the tremor subsided.

Selena glanced over her shoulder, her face filled with fear as fire raced toward them. She put her head down and leaped over the crevice in front of her, then turned and waved at Taimin to follow. With wide cracks everywhere, Taimin was forced to jump from a standing position. He fell short, but Selena grabbed his arm as he teetered with just one foot on solid ground. She pulled him toward her, a brief look of surprise on her face when she noticed his new dexterity.

He followed Selena as she leaped from one solid place to the next until they were past the section of broken floor. Flames sped toward them. As Taimin opened his stride, a rush of air screamed from somewhere deep in the machine’s belly. Rumbles and hisses combined with a cacophony of booms. Aurelium popped in the air and crackled like meat on a spit. Where once the air was cold, now it was hot beyond belief.

Selena’s face was red as she ran and her eyes looked wild. The air in Taimin’s chest burned with every gasp. Meanwhile the torrent of fire pursued them down the tunnel.

Selena gave a cry. Taimin saw the reason a moment later: a pile of rubble littered the ground, and then the vertical tear in the gray wall beckoned. She didn’t look back as she jumped through the hole and Taimin was right behind her.

He nearly stumbled over the fallen rocks, but Selena grabbed his arm to steady him. He skidded on the gravel, but she was there to help him. There was now rock overhead, but they weren’t past danger yet. The bucking ground threw them from side to side.

As he clambered over the rubble, Taimin looked back at the crevice that had once glowed green. Even as he watched, a powerful explosion released a cloud of fire and smoke through the opening, sending hot air rushing toward him. He grabbed Selena and pulled her to the ground, so that they were both flat on the cavern’s floor as heat swept over their heads. An angry roar accompanied the biggest detonation yet.

Taimin picked himself up and helped Selena to her feet. They stumbled together along the path through the cavern, ducked under the overhang, and clambered to the place where the walls opened up toward the cavern’s narrow mouth.

Taimin threw himself toward the open air; he could hear the sound of another explosion building. It began as a rush of air, like a massive beast preparing to exhale. A resounding boom was loud enough to hurt his ears. The sound grew louder. He put on a last burst of speed.

He and Selena left the cave and flung themselves forward. Smoke and heat poured from behind them and rolled over the open ground. All Taimin knew was that he was flat on his stomach and Selena was beside him. The smoke billowed forward. He coughed as it entered his lungs. The roar was deafening.

Gradually, the sound faded.

The smoke began to disperse. Taimin realized he could see. He lifted his head and saw Selena looking back at him. Grime coated her face and her eyes were red from the smoke.

He took stock of himself. He was on open ground, lying on the dirt. The cavern he had just left was behind him, at the base of the peak that nestled into the wall of the basin. He glanced over his shoulder. Smoke continued to trickle from the cave, but it appeared that the worst of the destruction was over.

He raised his gaze and saw figures through the shifting smoke.

Taimin staggered to his feet. Selena was already standing. Some of the onlookers were lean and others stocky. Arrayed in front of them, hazy in the smoke, were skalen, bax, humans, and even a mantorean and a trull.

As the smoke continued to thin, Taimin saw Vance, whose mouth dropped open. A moment later, Ruth gave a shout. Lars shook his head in amazement. They hurried to help Taimin and Selena away from the cave.

“Taimin.” Vance’s dusty face was grim. “What about the . . . ?”

Taimin followed Vance’s gaze. “Still in there.”

Now with a healthy distance separating them from the smoking mouth of the cave, the five humans turned to watch. Members of the other races stood with them, a short distance away. Soon Vance turned to Taimin. “There’s no way—”

A figure stumbled through the opening.

She was the smaller of the two giants. Her gray robe and the pack on her back were singed and her face was black with soot. Taimin remembered her taller companion throwing her forward even as fire enveloped his body.

She took a few lurching steps, but was clearly unable to continue farther. Her dark eyes became unfocused. Despite her rows of sharp teeth, the ridges on her face, and her short, pointed horns, she didn’t look as fearsome anymore. She collapsed to her knees before turning her head to stare back at the entrance, where black smoke continued to billow.

Taimin saw Selena glance his way. He knew what she was thinking. Surely it must be over.

Another explosion made everyone jump. Flame burst from the cave to light up the surrounding landscape. The detonation that followed resounded throughout the desert.

Selena gasped.

The giant with the curling horns emerged from the mouth of the cave.

He was in a wretched state. His skin was charred, and his horns were blackened to the color of coal. His lips were gone, so that all that remained of his face were his yellow teeth and burning eyes. A few tatters of clothing clung to his body. His fingers were short stumps. He barely made it out of the cavern before he stopped.

Like a felled tree, he tilted forward and collapsed. As he lay face down onto the ground, Taimin watched and waited, but the strange creature that had attacked him, let him live, and then healed him to fight again, was completely still. Taimin had been hunted. But the monster who had pursued him across the wasteland was dead.

The scene was now eerily silent. Smoke continued to billow out of the cave mouth, but the plume was smaller than before. A large group of onlookers stared at the two creatures of an unknown race. One was dead. The other began to crawl toward her fallen companion.

Taimin felt the ground begin to tremble.

This time the rumbling came from deep beneath his feet. Stones tumbled down the sides of the tall peaks. The cave they were standing in front of collapsed. Cracks formed along the peaks themselves.

Lars looked in all directions. “We should get out of here.”

“Good idea,” said the trull nearby.

The ground shook with fury. Taimin climbed up the slope on two strong legs. He saw stunned looks from Ruth, Vance, and Lars. He would explain when he had time.

From the top of the ridge, Taimin looked back the way he had come. Rocks littered the ground near the female giant and her dead companion. For a moment Taimin thought that she might be trying to heal him with her black box, but her posture told him she was simply grieving.

The trembling began to subside. In front of Taimin, the rippling dunes of the desert opened up, revealed in the low light of the setting sun. The strip of red sky clung to the horizon, marking out the firewall, contrasting with the dark blue above it.

Everyone from skalen to bax stopped as soon as they left the rocky basin, unwilling to leave solid ground. Sand might shift and provide its own dangers.

They were all watching when it happened.

The sands erupted into the air. The vast machine buried under the desert announced its death with an ear-splitting roar. A swirl of black smoke and yellow dust filled the sky and then slowly the sand rained back down to the ground.

A wind began to blow.

The wind grew stronger as it swept across the desert. The cloud of black smoke began to disperse. The stiff breeze tugged at Selena’s hair. It rustled Taimin’s clothing. At first it was dry and hot, the wind of the wasteland.

But then it changed.

The wind became cool. It carried with it a fresh smell of moisture that Taimin had never experienced before. The air above the desert was soon clear of dust. The breeze continued to blow, scouring the wasteland, sweeping the heat away.

“Look!” one of the bax called.

The horizon was changing color. The red band of sky lightened, becoming soft pink, tinged with blue. The sinister haze of the firewall was vanishing, blurring into the rest of the azure sky. Soon the horizon was blue, all the way to the desert and beyond.

The skalen clan leader, Kash, turned wide eyes on Taimin. “What just happened?”

Taimin returned his attention back to the basin, and the smaller of the two giants, who still knelt beside her fallen companion. “I think it’s time we found out.”

38

There were no more tremors. The machine was gone and had taken its secrets with it.

As he crossed the floor of the basin, Taimin’s eyes were on the female giant, still hunched over her dead companion. Her pack rested beside her. Broken rocks littered the ground nearby.

Taimin was the first to stop in front of her.

A group of figures soon surrounded them. Everyone stood and watched warily. Arrayed around Taimin were the five races of the wasteland.

Taimin regarded the strange creature in front of him as the cool, moist wind continued to blow. She had no hair, but the breeze ruffled her gray robe. The setting sun bathed her face in the last rays of daylight. Her face was expressive. She had feelings. The loss of her companion meant something to her.

He checked that she wasn’t carrying a weapon, before remembering that he had never seen her do anything but watch her companion fight. Her pack was large, but her companion hadn’t carried a pack at all. She had held Taimin in an iron grip, it was true, but only so she could heal him.

“Who are you?” Taimin asked.

As he spoke, he was flanked by the large group of onlookers, all waiting to hear her reply. The silence dragged out.

She raised her head. “I am Ingren.” Her voice was rasping, but he could easily understand her.

Taimin frowned. “What are you?”

“I am a female of the bonded. I am . . . was . . . advisor to my bondmate, Ungar.” She indicated the charred body.

Taimin looked from the body back to Ingren. “Where do you come from?”

“Outside this wasteland. My bondmate and I crossed the firewall, which you probably understand is now gone.”

Taimin exchanged glances with Selena. Despite the evidence of his eyes, he still couldn’t believe it. The wasteland was just a small portion of a larger world. The firewall was gone.

Ingren sighed as she stared at her dead companion. “Ungar was always rash,” she said. “I suppose his quest was the last there will ever be.”

“What’s happening to you?” Selena asked.

Taimin noticed that Ingren’s short, pointed horns were changing color. Where before they were a drab, pale yellow, the shade was becoming brighter, shifting toward gold.

“Now that my bond is broken, I am changing,” Ingren said. “I am no longer an advisor, because I have no warrior to advise.”

Taimin struggled to understand. He saw Lars scratching at his thick black beard. Vance cast him a bemused expression.

“We should bind her,” Kash said.

Still kneeling on the ground, Ingren gazed up at the skalen clan leader. “I will not fight you. I cannot. Among my race, only warriors fight.”

Taimin spoke up. “She is speaking the truth, though I’ll admit I don’t understand it.” He pondered for a time and then addressed Ingren again. “Your . . . bondmate. Why did he want me dead so badly?”

Ingren shrugged. “He was a warrior . . . a hunter. You were the hunted. He was on a quest. It was no choice of mine. The warriors are in ascendancy. We must do as our bondmates command.”

“What does this all mean?” Lars asked. “Are we free to go to the green lands?”

Ingren gave a harsh, croaking sound that Taimin guessed was laughter. “Free?” She seemed amused as she gave her attention to the assembled figures. “None of you were ever free.”

Her reaction made Taimin angry. He had to learn more. “Your pack. What’s in it?” He nodded. “Open it.”

With a resigned air, Ingren turned to her pack. A moment later, she lifted it into the air to upend it.

A collective gasp spread throughout the onlookers.

Heads tumbled out of the pack to roll onto the ground. Taimin stared at them in shock. The heads were perfectly preserved, and all came from a larger than average member of the wasteland’s races. The only thing missing was the head of a human.

“Ungar was on a quest to take five trophies,” Ingren said. Her dark eyes rested on Taimin. “He had a special interest in you, Taimin. You have a reputation.”

Taimin finally found his voice. “I want answers.”

Ingren scanned the circle of figures around her and then slowly climbed to her feet. She wasn’t quite half again as tall as Taimin, but she nonetheless towered over him.

She considered for a moment. “Everything has now changed. You will all soon be destroyed. There can be no harm in sharing knowledge before you die.”

Her words sent a chill along Taimin’s spine.

“There is a war underway,” Ingren said.

She said it in a simple, flat tone. It wasn’t what Taimin had expected her to say. He wanted to know the truth about the world he lived in.

Selena’s brow furrowed. She pointed in the direction of the now-vanished firewall. “Out there?”

“No,” Ingren said firmly. She pointed up at the heavens. The first pinpricks of light dotted the violet sky. “Beyond this world. In the stars.”

“Eh?” the trull grunted. She exchanged glances with the mantorean beside her. “I don’t understand.”

“That does not surprise me,” Ingren said, amused again.

“Who is the war between?” Kash asked hesitantly.

“Between my race and yours. Between the bonded and the five allies.” Ingren’s gaze moved from Kash and then to the bax leader, before traveling to the mantorean, the trull beside her, and finally resting on Taimin. “You are all represented here.”

The onlookers turned their heads to look at each other with new eyes. Taimin’s mind was spinning. Skalen and bax, trull, mantorean, and human, all shared the same manner of speech. He already knew that the bonded didn’t speak the same language.

“This world is our homeworld,” Ingren continued. “Our great city, Agravida, lies a very long distance in that direction.” She cast a swift glance over her shoulder. “You are the five allies. You work together to defeat us, but our will is strong, and ultimately, we will be victorious.”

Taimin stared up at the heavens, perplexed. “Go on.”

“You may have difficulty grasping this idea, but the stars you see in the night sky are suns, like the two suns of this world. Most suns have worlds circling them. Sometimes those worlds are inhabited.”

Ingren paused to allow her words to sink in.

“At the same time, in space, the region between the stars, the distances are vast. As a result, the war I speak of has been raging for many, many years. It has been underway for several of my lifetimes.”

Taimin swallowed. His whole life, since he was a boy, he had wanted to see new places, to seek out new opportunities, and after his time in the mysterious city of Zorn, to learn the truth about the world he lived in.

Each piece of the puzzle had revealed a greater secret. The map in the tower led to the machine that powered the firewall. The wasteland was a creation of the bonded, who considered the races inside it to be their enemies.

Ingren glanced from face to face and then spoke into the silence. “Early on in the war,” she said, “we took captives from colonies, and from ships we captured.” She rested her eyes on Lars, who was scratching his beard. “Ships are machines used to travel from one world to another,” she explained. “You are the descendants of those captives. We built this place for you. You are our prisoners. You always have been.”

Beside Taimin, Selena drew in a sharp breath. Vance and Ruth were both pale. Lars looked shocked. But they weren’t alone. The watching bax and skalen were as stunned as the humans. The trull and mantorean were staring at each other.

“We only took prisoners at the beginning of the war, and there were not very many of you,” Ingren said. “You have lost the use of writing. You have no history. It is not surprising that over the generations you have forgotten who you are, and how you came to be here.”

“But why?” Taimin demanded. “Why keep us here?”

“Is it not obvious? Our warriors have urges, and this is their hunting ground. There was a time when all warriors had to prove themselves by the taking of trophies,” she shrugged, “but since we abandoned the outpost, the practice has fallen into disuse. Only those seeking the highest office now follow the old traditions. Or followed, I should say, for clearly things cannot go back to the way they were.”

Selena’s eyes were wide as she glanced at Taimin. “The Protector of Zorn. He came to power when his father was murdered outside the city. Someone took his head. That’s what started all the fighting.”

Ingren nodded. “A quest demands that the hunter seek out trophies with special qualities. The place you call Zorn was once our outpost. Bonded would visit to prepare for hunts and watch fights in the arena. We left it a long time ago, when the barrier began to have dangerous surges . . . columns of hot air that came without warning.”

“Firestorms,” Lars muttered to Taimin and Selena.

Taimin gazed into the distance. Zorn was discovered empty by the Protector’s ancestor, hundreds of years ago. Who could say how long it had been abandoned for?

His mouth tightened as he turned back to Ingren. “You built the firewall. You put us here. We are nothing but your prisoners.”

“Yes,” Ingren said. She stared directly into his eyes. “But now that the barrier is gone, we will surely do something that perhaps should have been done a long time ago. You have no understanding of our power. This is our world. Our weapons command the sky and the land. Our warriors will come and kill you all, before you have a chance to threaten our farmland, our towns, and our cities.”

Dread sank into Taimin’s chest. He couldn’t prevent himself from looking at the severed heads.

Ingren spoke her next words with finality. “Believe me. None of you will survive.”

39

Night fell on a day of calamity. Nothing would be the same again.

Members of five races—five allied races, fighting a distant war with the bonded—talked together in the bowl-shaped basin. Their heads often tilted back, and eyes turned upward to gaze at the stars. They discussed their fates and shared their fears, and came to the growing realization that their world wasn’t what they had thought it was.

For a long time bax had fought human, and skalen had fought them both. Mantoreans had roamed the wasteland, trading with the other races and protecting their own kind, while trulls scavenged and stole. Yet they now had a common enemy. The bonded had trapped them in the wasteland for eons.

The fence around their prison was gone.

But soon they would all be destroyed.

Taimin found Selena standing alone on the ridge as she gazed out at the desert. The starlight gave her long coal-black hair a blueish tinge, and with her high cheekbones and slender frame she was as beautiful as ever. He knew she must be as exhausted as he was, but that like him, she would be frightened by all they had just learned.

Selena didn’t say anything as he came to stand beside her. He spent a few moments looking at her, marveling that she was here, in front of him.

“I missed you,” Taimin said.

“I missed you too.” She turned to face him.

Taimin gathered his thoughts. “About your father,” he said. “He did something incredibly brave, even though he knew it might kill him. He died to help us.”

“He spoke to me at the end,” Selena said. “I wish I had known him better.”

Taimin and Selena stood in silence for a time. In common with many of the others clustered around the three broken peaks, they stared up at the stars. One point of light was traveling slowly from one side of the heavens to the other. Was it a shooting star, or was it something else altogether? Perhaps one of the ships that Ingren had told them about? Ingren had tried to explain more—she seemed to revel in her greater knowledge—but Taimin still found it hard to understand that stars were distant suns, and that around those suns were worlds and ships that traveled between them.

He glanced down at the basin. He spotted Ingren easily by her height. She was still down there, speaking to some of the skalen. As she stretched her long arms to explain something, the skalen looked at her warily. But despite her size she appeared to be harmless and resigned to her new status as a captive.

“I found it again,” Selena suddenly said. She met Taimin’s eyes. “My power. I’m in control now. I won’t use it to harm anyone again.”

“You did it,” he said seriously. “I always knew you would.”

“And your injury . . . ?” Selena cast a perplexed look at his foot.

“The dead one wanted to fight on even terms, so they healed me. They are strange creatures, to say the least.”

“I can’t believe it,” Selena said. She let out a breath, shaking her head.

“Neither can I,” he said. He smiled. “Don’t laugh, but it’s going to take some getting used to.” His smile faded. “And you may not understand, but it only happened after I understood something. It never held me back. In fact, it made me who I am.”

“I’m glad,” Selena said. She paused. “What now?”

“I’ve been speaking with the others. We’ll head back to Zorn together, and we’ll tell everyone we meet what we’ve learned.”

“And then? Can we fight them?”

“In truth, I don’t know,” Taimin said. He wanted to reassure her, but found he couldn’t. “You saw inside the machine . . .” He trailed off.

“We have to try,” Selena said. “Think about what they’ve done and why we’re here.” She gazed down at Ingren. “We’ll have to take her to Zorn with us.”

“We will.”

Selena shivered; they were all struggling with the cool breeze. She watched the figures in the basin. “We’re going to have to learn to work together. This is bigger than we can handle alone.”

Taimin grimaced. “All I wanted to do was reach the world outside the firewall. I didn’t think about . . .”

“How could you have known? How could any of us? We had a dream. Once you know there’s something better on the other side of a doorway, it’s hard not to walk through.”

Taimin had never forgotten what he and Selena had seen when they left their bodies and gazed down from the void, at the edge of what Ingren had referred to as space. The wasteland was a tiny sliver of a spherical world. Silver rivers carved their way through forests of emerald green. Vast oceans of dark blue surrounded gigantic landmasses. In just a few brief moments he had discovered deserts and plains, mountain ranges and networks of islands. The vision had stayed with him ever since.

But the world he had glimpsed wasn’t his own. Perhaps Syrus, the mystic who had sheltered him and Lars for a time, was right, and Earth was real, rather than an afterlife some believed in. Perhaps Earth was the last remnant of an ancient memory among the humans trapped in the wasteland.

Taimin had learned that there was more to the world than he had once thought. Now he knew that even this world wasn’t all that there was. Ingren had spoken of many more worlds. The thought filled him with awe. But it was also daunting.

“The firewall is gone,” Taimin said.

He gazed out at the dunes that made up the desert. There was now no barrier, nothing separating the bonded from their prisoners.

The warrior, Ungar, had embarked on a quest with the sole purpose of taking heads as trophies to display to his fellow warriors back home. From what Taimin had learned, Ungar took pleasure in fighting. It wasn’t an attitude Taimin shared. He fought when he needed to, but it wasn’t something he had ever sought out.

He knew in his heart that Ingren was right. The bonded would eradicate their former captives, rather than let them freely roam their world.

Taimin turned to Selena. “We have dark times ahead of us.”

She nodded, as troubled as he was. They were both silent for a time, wondering about the days to come.

Then Taimin spoke again. “Thank you, Selena. For not leaving me.”

“We’re stronger together,” she said firmly.

He looked up at the heavens. “But will we be strong enough?”

40

A tall tower of white stone dominated the city of Zorn. The tower gazed out over streets and avenues, rows of houses, an oval-shaped arena, and an enclosing wall. From the top of the tower, anything that moved on the barren terrain outside the city would be seen long before it approached.

Taimin stood alone as he took in the view. From his lofty position, high above the buildings, he looked out and pondered.

He now knew that the city—or outpost—had once provided temporary homes for the bonded while they watched fights in the arena and prepared to embark on hunts. That was long ago, when the wasteland’s population would have been much smaller, making it difficult to track down the bax, skalen, mantoreans, trulls, and humans roaming the distant plains.

The purpose of the observation room at the top of the tower was now clear. A lucky sighting might stir a frenzy as bonded warriors raced from the city, competing with each other to claim a prize. The region surrounding Zorn was flat and inhospitable. In those days, hundreds of years in the past, anyone who strayed too close to the city would not have survived long.

Taimin gripped one of the perimeter columns to lean forward and peer down at the plaza surrounding the tower’s base. The atmosphere in the city had changed; it wasn’t just humans browsing the market. He saw a few bax and skalen moving about below. There was no longer talk of a threat from any of the wasteland’s races.

Zorn was at peace. As the great revelation had spread, the constant infighting between the five races had come to an end. Newcomers arrived almost every day, and with them they brought trade.

It was time to prepare. Ingren, currently held prisoner in the tower, had said that the bonded would know the firewall was gone almost as soon as it happened. They closely monitored events in their own world and would act without delay. The inhabitants of the wasteland, who had suddenly been freed, would soon face an enemy of unimaginable power.

Voices broke through Taimin’s reverie. He turned to take in the rest of the observation room. There were no walls framing the wide, circular space; instead, an outer ring of stone columns supported the ceiling. A series of steps sunk into the floor led down to the tower’s lower sections. Stools, chairs, and low tables had been moved to the side: everyone in the room was standing. The issue being discussed was urgent.

He saw Elsa, the leader of Zorn, a wiry woman with graying brown hair and a brisk manner. She was deep in discussion with Blixen, Warden of the Rift Valley, one of the most intimidating bax Taimin had ever encountered, with grooves above his deep-set eyes and studded leather armor that barely covered his barrel chest.

Moving past them, Taimin saw Selena and Ruth speaking with Rei-kika, a mantorean and skilled mystic. Farther away, Vance and Lars stood with Rathis, an old skalen Taimin had met in the arena. Rathis looked disturbed by something Vance was saying, while beside them both, Lars’s face looked grim.

Taimin knew some of them better than others, but this new accord felt as if it would last. The only question was, even united, did they stand any chance of survival when the bonded came?

Elsa caught Taimin’s eye and waved him over. Leaving his position, he navigated the room until he reached her group. Blixen regarded Taimin with his dark, glowering eyes.

“We’ve been talking for hours and we still don’t have a plan,” Elsa said bluntly.

“Can we hide from them?” Blixen asked in his deep, gravelly voice.

Elsa opened her mouth to speak but then her eyes slowly widened. She was staring past Taimin’s shoulder. All conversation in the observation room trailed to a stop.

Taimin turned.

He frowned as he caught movement in the sky. Whatever it was, it was small at first, but rapidly grew larger in his vision. The object was metallic in color and spherical in shape, with a blur of something whirring just above it. Floating above the city, suspended in the air, the sphere gave off a buzzing sound that became louder as it neared the tower.

Taimin’s heart thumped in his chest. He knew instinctively that the thing he was looking at wasn’t from the world he knew. The metallic sphere had spinning wings above it, like those of a flying insect, moving so fast he couldn’t focus on them. The orb drifted above the city as the noise of its passage grew in volume.

Soon Taimin could make out detail. A round side of the orb was dark and contained an inner white circle. The white part, surrounded by black, moved as the orb flew over the city, roving, shifting to face one direction and then another. There was something the sphere resembled more than anything else: an eye.

The floating eye inspected as it flew. It traveled over homes where parents looked after their children and buzzed over streets where city folk came to a halt, shocked as they stared up at the sky. When the eye reached the tall tower, for a brief moment the white part faced the observation room as it passed by.

Taimin tried to tell himself it was just a machine, but he nonetheless felt a strong sense of menace. His dread grew stronger as the eye glared directly at him. Fixed in place and inspected by a moving object with no body or soul, he wanted nothing more than to hide.

At last the buzzing orb left the tower behind. The eye swept over the entire city, performing a wide circle, before increasing speed and returning back the way it had come.

Taimin knew the value of scouting terrain, counting numbers, and assessing defenses.

He knew when he was a target.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My utmost thanks to everyone at 47North and United Agents who have been so supportive throughout all stages of the publishing process, with special mention to my editor, Jack, and agent, Robert.

Eternal gratitude to Ian, for helping make sense of my crazy ideas. I’d also like to credit Jon’s help with early development, and my amazing readers: Amanda, Amy, Nicole, Estrid, Sandra, and Rosa.

Thanks to all of you who have reached out to me and taken the time to post reviews of my books.

Boundless recognition must go to my wife, Alicia. We share these dreams together.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo © 2015 Anna Niman

James Maxwell grew up in the scenic Bay of Islands, New Zealand, and was educated in Australia. Devouring fantasy and science-fiction classics from an early age, his love for books led to a strong interest in writing. He attended his first workshop with published authors at the age of eleven, and throughout his twenties he continued to develop the epic fantasy story he would one day bring to life.

The internationally bestselling four books of The Evermen Saga were published with 47North in 2014. James soon followed with his second series, The Shifting Tides, a sweeping tale of adventure, intrigue, and magic.

A World Of Secrets is the second title in his latest series, The Firewall Trilogy, with the sequel, A Search For Starlight, out in 2021.

James lives in London with his wife and daughter. When he isn’t writing, he enjoys French cooking, acoustic guitar, and long walks in the English countryside.

For free books and to learn about new releases, sign up at www.jamesmaxwell.com.