“This place is incredible!” Anvar, at the Mage’s side, was looking around him with wide eyes.
“The lower pool is for bathing,” Yazour said. “We keep a goodly stock of food and fuel here, so we can replenish our supplies—and today we’ll feast, or so it will seem, after all this rationing. We will rest here for two or three days before going on.”
“Wonderful!” Aurian smiled at him, tacitly apologizing for her recent moodiness. “I never thought I’d get tired of riding, but right now I never want to see a horse again! I could kill for a bath, a hot meal, and a long sleep.”
“Then you shall have them.” Anvar put his arm around her and led her away to the right, where a series of small fires were being kindled close to a vent in the rock that drew the smoke away out of the cavern.
Since Anvar had regained his powers and started learning from the Mage, their relationship had altered subtly. Everyone except Bohan and Shia, who were party to the secret, accepted him as Aurian’s husband, but even when the two of them were alone, Anvar’s old subservience had dropped away, to the point where he had been very firm about her taking extra food from himself and the eunuch. Aurian, to her surprise, had found herself not minding Anvar’s new assertiveness. Since their escape from Nexis she had been forced to be the strong one, to shoulder the burden of their journey, and having someone share j the responsibility had come as a relief. Although her occasional 1 lack of patience as a teacher, coupled with their mutual exhaustion, had led to some sharp words between them—Anvar, it seemed, had Magefolk stubbornness to match her own—a close and comforting friendship had developed between them that did much to ease the loneliness that was their common bond. The Mages shared a fire with Eliizar and Nereni. While they waited for supper to cook they talked, glad of the opportunity after the enforced isolation of the desert camps. Eliizar, free of the Arena and back with a military company where he belonged, seemed to have shed years during the journey. His one eye glowed with enthusiasm as he spoke of the desert that he loved. Nereni, plump and smiling, was also glad to have left the Arena, but was finding the journey a trial. Aurian sympathized. If she, an expert horsewoman, was wearied by the continuous riding, she hardly dared imagine what it must be like for a beginner like Nereni.
Anvar, who’d had little opportunity to ride during his time at the Academy except when Aurian had invented the occasional errand to give him an outing, was also feeling the strain. “It’s all right for you,” he teased Nereni, rolling an expressive eye at her rounded backside. “At least you’ve got some padding between you and the saddle!”
She threw a spoon at him, making him duck, and the four of them collapsed in gales of mirth. Bohan, having cared for the horses, joined them thereat, as did Shia, who had been exploring the cave. “I don’t like it,” she told Aurian. “I see nothing, but it feels—prickly.”
The Mage, intent on Nereni’s delicately spiced stew, was not paying much attention. “Maybe you have sand in your coat,” she replied absently, and soon forgot the conversation. Now that she was full of good food, she found that her eyes refused to stay open any longer. The outline of the flames seemed to dance and blur in her vision, and the quiet sounds of conversation receded.
“Here you are, sleepyhead. Do it properly.” She blinked, brought back to herself by Anvar’s voice. He was holding out a blanket. “I wanted to bathe—” she protested, but the words were swallowed in a yawn.
“Do it tomorrow. I don’t mind sleeping with a dirty woman.”
“You’re just as dirty—” Aurian began indignantly—and fell silent in dismay as she grasped the import of his words. Without the tent to shelter them, they would have to play out the charade of their marriage to the full. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that this awkward situation might arise?
“It’s all right,” Anvar said softly, and wrapping the blanket snugly round her shoulders, he gathered her into his arms as they lay down. The warmth of his body felt good after the cool air of the cave, and soon she was relaxing against him drowsily. It had been so long since she had felt comforting arms around her at night ... As Aurian drifted into sleep, her heart ached with longing for Forral.
The fragrance that teased her into wakefulness reminded Aurian so strongly of the Arena that she opened her eyes expecting to see the white walls of her old cell. Instead she saw Anvar, holding a steaming cup. “I have a surprise for you,” he said. “Your friend Eliizar brought his own supply of—”
“Liafa.” Aurian beamed, reaching greedily for the cup.
“Well! And I thought Eliizar was exaggerating when he told me how much you loved that stuff. That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile this early in the day.”
Aurian stuck her tongue out at him. “It’s all right for some. You look as though you’ve been up for ages.”
Anvar grinned. “The men—being the earliest risers—had the first turn at the.pool.”
All traces of the sparkling dust had gone from his skin. His hair, curled and darkened now by the water, had grown during his time in slavery, and to keep the damp strands from his face he had copied Yazour, tying the errant locks back with a thong at the nape of his neck. It suited him, Aurian thought.
“What are you staring at? Have I missed a bit?”
“Who, me? Nothing.” Aurian floundered. “I’d forgotten what you looked like under all that dust!”
“Well, it’s the women’s turn now, so you’d better hurry up if you want to get rid of your own dust.”
“Suits me.” She put down the empty cup. “It’s a pity, really. I must be worth a fortune in gems right now.”
Nereni was in the pool, splashing and laughing with the other women of Harihn’s household. The Mage shed her dusty clothes and stepped into the water. It was not as cold as she had expected, and while it was shallow enough for standing, there was enough depth to swim. The bottom was coated in a soft layer of gem sand, doubtless shed by generations of dusty travelers. It gleamed underfoot, reflecting the torchlight from the walls. Nereni waded over and handed her a slab of rough soap. “Ah, I see you are returned at last, from the country of dreams.”
“Real soap! Nereni, you think of everything.”
“But of course—and as well, for you warriors!” Her plump face dimpled. “I must go to prepare the day meal, but I will fetch you a cloth to dry yourself, and some clean robes.”
When Nereni had gone, Aurian washed thoroughly, glad to get the dust out of her hair. Mine is growing again, too, she thought. Maybe I’ll get Anvar to braid it for me soon. By the time she had finished, the other women had left the pool, but she lingered for a while, enjoying the peace and solitude. At last, prompted by hunger, she went to rinse beneath the little waterfall before getting out.
The Mage had no suspicion of danger—not until it was too late. As she placed her hand against the smooth wall where the waterfall trickled down, a strident clamor tore the air like the shrieks of a vast, unimaginable beast in torment. The rock seemed to come alive beneath her fingers, trapping her hands, her arms—sucking her body inexorably into its soft, clinging maw. Aurian, despite her struggles, was snatched into the darkness beyond. Within seconds the wall had closed behind her, blank and featureless once more.