Panyat and Balkis turned to look, too, and saw a great curve-sided triangle with a rounded tip moving toward them. Balkis gripped Anthony's hand. “I have seen such a thing on a lord's crest—but it was on the back of a dolphin.”
“What is a dolphin?” Anthony asked.
“It is fantastical good luck!” Panyat cried. “The traders told me about them, but I never thought to see one! Step back from its path—but as it passes, leap and catch hold of that fin!”
They stood, waiting, as the huge fin rushed toward them. “What is it?” Balkis asked.
“A giant sandfish, and we can ride its back to our oasis!”
“Let us hope it does not mean to revenge its smaller cousins,” Anthony said nervously.
“I think we need not worry about that,” Balkis said. “It probably has a goodly number of them in its belly.”
The sand hissed as the huge fin sped toward them.
“Now!” Panyat cried. They ran and leaped to catch the huge fin. Anthony's fingers closed on it first. Balkis clung to him, then swept an arm around Panyat. He clung to her while he set his feet down, then sat, gaining a secure hold. “We are well aboard now, I think,” he said. “Anthony, have you a rope in your pack?”
“Of course,” Anthony said, “but I am reluctant to loose my hold on this fin.”
“Then, Balkis, would you dig out that rope and tie Anthony to the fin, so he can sit down on this creature's back? Then we can sit with him and hold onto his rope.”
“A good plan,” Balkis said, and did as he asked.
Pressing against Anthony while she cast the rope about the fin aroused the pleasant but frightening feelings that were quickly becoming familiar—and less alarming. Still, when they were all sitting on the creature's back, holding fast to the rope, there were only Anthony's eyes, shining in the moonlight as they gazed at her, and the admiring smile on his lips—and, of course, the moonlight itself…
Glad that Panyat was there, she tore her gaze away from Anthony's and asked, “How long should we ride this monster fish?”
“Until we come to the next oasis.” Panyat smiled into the breeze of the fish's passage, his hair blowing behind him. “It will certainly be quicker than walking—and far less tiring.”
Eventually they saw the oasis, far away on the eastern horizon. “Is that it?” Anthony pointed toward the palm trees, silhouetted against the reddening sky.
“It is indeed!” Panyat replied. “We would not have come to it for another day if we'd had to walk. Perhaps we should stay with this fish awhile longer.”
“How far is the next oasis?” Balkis asked uneasily.
“Only a night's travel—or half that, at this fish's speed.”
“If we had water,” Anthony said, “I would not hesitate for a minute.”
“Are you thirsty, then?” Balkis asked.
Anthony thought about it, then said, “No. It seems the water at that disappearing oasis has sustained me.”
Panyat pointed east. “The palm trees have sunk below the horizon.”
Balkis gazed at the flat sand stretching to the rose-colored sky and felt apprehension coil in the pit of her stomach. Still, the die was cast, so she said, “Let us drape our cloaks over our heads—and Panyat, do you sit in their shadow. If we are to stay with this fish, we must travel through the day.”
But the heat wasn't a problem after all, for the fish actually traveled faster in the daylight, stirring up a breeze that kept them cool. They chatted idly, comparing more tales and exchanging songs, and never thirsted, thanks to the magical oasis.
“Amazing!” Matt said, looking down at the beige waste below them. “You'd swear it was an ocean, with those waves of sand dunes rolling across it!”
“If they roll, they roll very slowly,” Stegoman said.
“Just a matter of rate,” Matt said. “Watch it in time lapse and you'll see it move like an ocean.”
Stegoman frowned. “What is 'time lapse'?”
“Watching it with time slowed down, so that its motion seems to be speeded up so much that a single day takes only a few minutes.”
“Ah. Another one of your spells,” Stegoman said, dismissing the matter.
His comment gave Matt pause. Could he craft a time lapse spell? Why not?
Better question: Why bother? But you never knew what spells might come in handy in this universe. Matt decided to try working this one out when they rested for the evening.
“There is a stripe of green ahead,” Stegoman said.
Matt looked up, craning his neck and squinting. “I'll take your word for it, eagle eyes.”
“Eagles,” Stegoman said with disdainfully, “can see only a mile or so with any clarity.”
“Nice to associate with a superior breed.” For a dizzy moment Matt wondered what kind of country would select Stegoman for its national bird. He looked down and said, “But I can see a road, or some sort of track, anyway.”
“A road indeed, and a traveler on it,” Stegoman replied.
“Traveler?” Matt squinted and made out a dark speck. “Great! Let's drop down and ask him if he's seen anyone today.”
“I suppose we must,” Stegoman sighed, and banked into a downward spiral. “I assume I should land out of sight.”
“It would help,” Matt said, “though I don't think he's going to have too much doubt about where I came from.”
Stegoman put a dune between himself and the traveler, then Matt hiked around the sandy hill. The traveler stopped as soon as he saw Matt, and waited, staff in hand but not leaning on it. Matt was automatically on his guard—the traveler had to connect him with the monster that had just flown overhead, but he looked neither frightened nor awed, only stood and waited. Also, he didn't seem to be fazed by the heat, but now that Matt was down and out of the wind of Stegoman's passage, he was already drenched with sweat and wilting.
Coming close enough to make out the traveler's features, Matt shuddered. The face was triangular, gaunt, snub-nosed and beardless, with a strange sheen to the pale skin and a hard glitter to the unwinking eyes. They stared, but without curiosity—or any other feeling Matt could detect. It made his skin crawl.
Still, politeness was an obligation, Matt told himself, then smiled and raised a hand in greeting. “Hail, traveler! May your journey be peaceful.”
“And yours,” the traveler answered with an oddly breathy voice. “What do you seek, stranger?”
“A young woman,” Matt said, “a friend of mine, a former traveling companion.” He waited for the suggestive comment, but when none came, he went on, even more uneasy. “She's about this high”—he held a palm up at shoulder height—“golden skin, black hair, last seen wearing white and gold robes.”
“I have seen her.” The traveler lifted his staff, turning to point toward the south. “She sojourned in a valley some distance yonder. There are two other valleys between, both of which hold little people. You must pass them and go to the third.”
“Thanks!” Hope sprang, and Matt felt as though a weight had lifted off his shoulders; he'd been more worried than he'd let himself realize. “Was she … was she free? Happy?”
“Quite happy, so far as I could see, and quite friendly with the folk who dwelled there,” the stranger said. “As to being free, she seemed to like the valley and had no desire to leave.”
Suspicion stabbed at Matt, but he forced a smile and said, “Thanks. That's a huge relief. We'll go check it out.”
“You should not arrive at night, or the people there will be wary,” the stranger warned, “nor should you arrive in early morning, for they will be ill-tempered while they labor in the fields. But they stop to dine at noon and will then be more welcoming.”
“Awfully nice of you to give us such great tips,” Matt said slowly, though his brain was racing, seeking motives. He grinned, stepping forward quickly, hand out to shake. “Can't thank you enough.”