Right now, she wished she and Kindren were wandering as they usually did, instead of sneaking after Bardiya, who had left earlier that afternoon with an admonition that none were to join him on the day’s quest. It was an odd command for him, both because he always took company with him on his prayer missions and because it was rare for the inhumanly tall man to make such iron commands.
Bardiya was nothing but a shimmering black dot in the distance, and Aullienna allowed herself to set aside her fears and focus on her surroundings. She found beauty in the desert; the rippling sand and high dunes were like waves in a white ocean that moved so slowly that not even an elf’s keen eyes could decipher the movement. The cliffs they came across were tall and majestic, like stone fingers offering salutations to Celestia, and every so often they would come upon a small thatch of trees, in the middle of which was a patch of crystal blue water. Lizards often congregated in those magical little spots, along with the occasional desert hare. No land, no matter how harsh, was completely uninhabitable.
Her heel sank into the sand and she stumbled. She yelped in surprise, teetering to the side, but Kindren was there in an instant, his hands slipping beneath her armpits. His fingers brushed her right breast, barely covered by the sheer lambskin linen she wore that day, and her insides fluttered.
“Watch it,” her love said, chuckling. “Don’t want to break a leg way out here.”
“Sorry,” she said, blushing.
He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Here, lean on me for a while.”
And so she did, just as she had come to do in so many ways. Her eyes lifted to the bright blue sky, toward the star of her goddess, concealed by the brightness of the day. Thank you for him, Celestia, she prayed silently. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
Looking up at Kindren, Aully felt her mouth stretching wide. “Forever,” she whispered, the only word she could think to say. Her love glanced down at her with a smile.
For ten paces they held each other’s gaze, and when Kindren finally lifted his eyes to their surroundings, he paused, his grip tightening on her side.
“What is that?” he asked.
They had unwittingly made their way to a ledge of sorts. Behind and off to the side was a triple-peaked rock face, the lower ledge packed with desert flowers and wavering brown grasses, a natural bridge of stone spanning between the second and third peaks. In front of them was a slightly pitched cliff, the stone worn smooth from decades of wind blasting sand against its side. To the left of the cliff was what looked to be a gritty path packed with hardened sand, leading down the gentle slope. The formation was the same yellowish-white color as the sand, making it virtually invisible to the naked eye until they were right on top of it.
But the rock face and cliff were not what had captured Kindren’s attention. Aully followed his gaze, which was fixed on a strange black finger of obsidian down below them. Bardiya was standing beside it, and the thing was three times as tall as the giant.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Stay low,” Kindren said, gently pushing her down until both of them lay on their bellies in the shifting sands. A gust of wind blew, assaulting her face and eyes. She buried her head in her arm, waiting for it to stop.
When it did, she glanced over to see Kindren spitting and wiping splotches of dirt from his mouth. He smiled awkwardly at her, his pale cheeks flushing red.
“Stupid wind,” he said.
“Missed some.” She reached over, wiped a few stray granules from the corner of his lip with her thumb.
“Where would I be without you, Aully?”
“Probably locked in your room back at your parents’ palace.”
She had meant it as a joke, but Kindren grimaced just the same, averting his eyes and staring down at the jutting black rock. Aully sighed, muttered a curse to herself, and did the same, shielding her eyes when another squall hit them.
“Who else is down there?” Kindren asked. His voice was soft.
Aully squinted. “Don’t know. Hard to see through the wind and all.”
“Looks like a guy on a horse. Or with a horse. He’s all shiny too.” She looked at Kindren, who was straining to see, as if he could create a looking glass by squeezing his eyelids together tightly enough. “He looks…funny.”
“Funny how? I can’t see anything. It’s all blurry.”
Kindren shrugged. “Shaped funny. Don’t know. Probably just a trick of light or something.”
“Maybe.”
He rolled over then, peering at her with frowning lips. “Aully, that wasn’t fair.”
“What?” she asked. “I just said ‘maybe.’”
Kindren shook his head. “No, not that. What you said about me being locked in my room. You know I risked everything to get you out of Dezerea, but what I did…I didn’t do it just because of you.”
She stared at him, uncertain of what to say.
Kindren closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I helped Ceredon free you because it was right. Because it was horrible what the Neyvar and my parents did to your family. I would have done it under any circumstances. Please know that.”
Shame filled her.
“It was just a joke,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
He threw his arm around her and smiled. “I know. And it’s okay, I’m not mad. I’m really not. I just…I just need you to understand the kind of man I am. It’s not always about just you and me. If we’re ever going to get home, we have to think about what’s right for everyone else too. That is something you want, right?”
She nodded.
Kindren kissed her, then slapped at the sand. “You know what? Let’s head back. There’s nothing to see here, and it makes me feel dirty spying on the one human who considers us his equals.”
“All right.”
They stood up while the giant and the mystery man continued their summit down below. Turning back, they began the journey home. The sudden winds had erased their tracks in the sand, giving Aully a moment of fright, but Kindren seemed confident. Her spirits rose ever so slightly, and she leaned into him, pressing her ear to his chest so that she could hear the beat of his heart.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling.
“For what?”
“For dealing with me.”
She gazed up at his beautiful face as he guided her along, and her heart nearly stopped when his expression darkened and he brought them both to a halt. What did I say now? she thought, but then she heard a low, guttural rumble.
They were standing before the rock face. A shape appeared on the pure sandblasted surface of stone, a creature that matched the white and taupe colors of the desert, slinking on four legs through the arch between two of the peaks, tramping over the bronzed grasses at the base of the formation. A blood-red tongue licked over a pair of wicked incisors as the sandcat stalked closer.
“Get behind me, Aully,” Kindren whispered from the side of his mouth. “Go slow, no sudden movements.”
He gently nudged her, and she slipped around his back, holding onto his thin cotton tunic with both hands. Kindren backed up one step, then another, hunkering down and holding his arms out as if preparing to grapple. The sandcat came closer still, its paws sinking into the sand with every stride, its emerald-green eyes desperate with hunger. The thing was barely as big as Aully herself, but when it yawned out a sound like a bag of rocks shaking together, she realized just how huge its jaws were. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember what Bardiya had told them about the beasts. All she could recall was some nonsense about sandcats being just as sacred as elves and humans, and they should feel honored if and when they came face to face with one. “Until it rips out your throat and eats you alive,” Kindren had quipped afterward.