But they worked their way into the fire’s circle of heat. Sellis had it roaring in no time. No other creatures would dare approach the oasis tonight, not with a fire like that going, and even if they did they wouldn’t find any water in the pool. Sitting as close as they dared, they let the fire dry them out and warm them, until finally, as morning approached, they slumbered.
They got a late start the next day. They hadn’t had much sleep, and they had to wait until the sun dried out the rest of their belongings, left behind at their campsite when they had stormed the oasis to kill the rain paraelemental beast. Aric still didn’t understand how Sellis had defeated it, he was only glad the warrior had done so.
Once their things were dry and they were hiking along once more, the sun had heated the air to the point that Aric almost missed his near-frozen state of the night before. When he said as much, Myrana chided him. “You’re never satisfied, are you?”
“I just wish there weren’t such extremes,” he said. “Baking hot during the day, icicles at night. Why can’t the world just be temperate for a change. Inside that cavern, when I saw a vision of Athas as it once was, there were vast forests and lush meadows full of grass and flowers. That world couldn’t have been as forbidding as ours.”
“That world is long gone,” Amoni said. “If your vision was even true.”
“It was true in other respects,” Aric argued. He was thinking of the battle that had left all those bones under Akrankhot, and the sword he had found. And Tallik, of course. Tallik was real enough.
“Perhaps it can be restored to that state,” Sellis said. “If we can turn our backs on magic long enough to stop destroying it.”
“Not all magic is destructive,” Myrana reminded him.
“That’s what some say, it’s true,” Sellis admitted. “But I believe magic is magic—whether it’s preserving or defiling, when people rely it there’s always the temptation to take it too far. Better to stay away from all of it. Just take our chances with no magic, and see what happens.”
Aric’s hand went to his medallion, without his conscious participation. “What about the Way?”
“I don’t think it’s inherently destructive,” Myrana said. They were marching up one of the low, rocky hills crossing their path, trying to carve a straight line toward Nibenay. “I don’t have a problem with those who use the Way. As you said, Aric, I have seen a lot of the world. For the most part it’s a harsh, wasted place, ravaged by forces none of us can comprehend. But there are glimpses of beauty to be had. Enough that I can’t help believing that if it were left alone for some time, it could yet recover and become someplace livable. Like you saw in that vision.”
“You might be right,” Aric said. “It’s sad that none of us will live to see that day.”
“You don’t know that!”
“I do. For the world to change so much, it would take centuries. We’ll not live that long.”
“I suppose not.”
Ahead of them, having already reached the top of the rise, Ruhm held out a single huge hand. “Shh!’ he said. He crouched down and waited for the others to join him. “Raiders,” he said, pointing into the valley on the other side. A group of thirty-five to forty cut people across the valley, some on foot but most mounted on kanks or erdlus. This was no trading caravan—they had only three wagons—and they looked like they could move fast when they needed to. Even from here Aric could see that they were comprised of a variety of races: humans, elves, muls and others.
“Have they seen us?” Sellis asked.
“Don’t think so,” Ruhm said.
“We’ll stay low a while,” Sellis suggested. “Until they’ve moved on.”
Aric couldn’t argue with that. He sat. The others sat around him, Myrana close to his left side. There was no shade, and the sun pounded them with ruthless ferocity, and they were making no progress. Aric, frustrated, hurled pebbles down the hillside into a scraggly brush.
“Is something bothering you, Aric?” Myrana asked.
“I just hate sitting here doing nothing when we should be moving fast. By now Kadya has doubtless got the argosies filled and the caravan on the march toward Nibenay.”
She stroked the back of his arm. “I’m slowing us down. I’m sorry. If you want to go on ahead … or you, Ruhm and Amoni, then Sellis and I can follow at my speed.”
He was tempted to accept her offer. At the same time, however, he wanted nothing to do with it. He couldn’t say why, not out loud. How could he tell her what it was like to grow up a half-elf, abandoned by a father he had never known and left too young by a mother who died? Unloved and seldom trusted, making his way in the world with few close friends. Since the moment she had put a hand on his cheek, he had felt that she accepted him. They had a bond, he thought, that had been at once as strong as any others he’d known.
He didn’t want to leave her behind. Even alone, he didn’t know if he could reach Nibenay in time—or, if he did, whether it would help stop Tallik from doing whatever it was he had in mind. Given that uncertainty, he had no interest in leaving Myrana behind, possibly never to see her again.
“No,” he said finally. “No, we stay together, the five of us. We’ll have a better chance of survival that way.”
“Thank you, Aric.” She gave his arm a squeeze, then released it. “I was hoping you felt that way. But I had to offer.”
“Raiders gone,” Ruhm said. Aric looked. The raiders were nearly out of sight behind the hills. The companions rose and started picking their way down the slope.
They were out in the middle of the sandy valley floor, where there was no cover larger than the occasional sparse cactus or scrubby tuft of grass when the raiders came back, heading straight for them.
XIV
Ambush
They’re coming!” Amoni shouted. She took a battle stance, cahulaks at the ready. Sellis drew both of his swords. Aric’s broadsword filled his hand, and Ruhm prepared to use his club. Myrana had only a dagger, Aric noted, but she looked ready to use it.
Still, they were only five, against nearly forty. Aric would not have said that it couldn’t be done. Sellis in particular cut a heroic figure, and he might have actually enjoyed the odds. Aric, although strong, was not yet an accomplished warrior, and it didn’t look as if Myrana was either. Sellis, Amoni, and Ruhm would have to do the bulk of the fighting.
The raiders came on fast. Their insectlike kanks and flightless erdlus tore across the plain, sending up a plume of yellow dust. Aric raised his sword and prepared for battle.
Then Myrana surprised them all by sheathing her dagger. “Weapons down!” she said.
“They’ll kill us!” Sellis cried.
“They’ll kill us if we fight,” Myrana said. “If we don’t, at least we have a chance.”
“Myrana, there’s always a chance,” Sellis argued.
“This is our best one,” Myrana said. “Trust me.”
The raiders came closer, so close Aric could see the honed edges of carrikals and spears, swords and gythkas, and the faces of those wielding them, set in masks of fury. He and his friends had never done anything to those raiders, but people seemed to need to embrace anger against those they would strike down. Anger burned in him, as well—somewhat more justifiably, he believed, since these raiders seemed intent on killing people whose only offense was walking across open desert.