Chapter 1

1

K yrie

The horn blows, and I drop my pickax at my feet. With a twist, I arch my back, pressing my fingers into the base of my spine, which makes me wince. Groaning softly, I roll my shoulders. It’s been a long day. Then again, they’re all long days out here. I hold back a yawn, blinking my scratchy eyes against the glaring sun.

Sweat drips from my brow, and yet, it won’t be long before the sun goes down and it’s freezing cold. It is harsh out here. I look out into the open, and all I can see is sand. It stretches on and on in an endless expanse. From somewhere to the side, a camel bellows. There’s a string of them waiting to have the salt blocks we cut today tied to their backs. They will leave soon after sunup tomorrow to make the weeklong trip through the Bohab Desert.

“And?” Taylor asks me, barely out of breath, his eyes dipping to my basket. They narrow in concern.

I can’t answer for a few seconds as I breathe in deeply. I finally shrug, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. “I guess we’ll soon find out,” I pant out the words.

These fae bastards make us work hard for the meager rations we are provided. If we don’t deliver, we hardly get to eat.

“I doubt I made quota,” Zara says from behind us. Her hair is covered in sand, as is her right cheek. All of our clothes are caked in it. It somehow manages to permeate every orifice. My hair hasn’t been truly clean in many moons.

“I hope I made it,” Penny whispers. She’s a wisp of a lady and standing in front of me. I’m not sure what the fae were thinking when they brought her here. “I can’t go without a full meal three days in a row. I can’t.” Her voice breaks, and her eyes start to fill with tears. She blinks them away because crying in the desert is a messy business.

My heart breaks for her. For all of us.

I swallow thickly. “Maybe—” I start to say but am interrupted.

“In line!” the guard yells. He’s new. Came in with the party bringing the camels. There will be a change of guard when some of the more familiar faces leave tomorrow. I don’t care much which fae stay and which go. They’re all the same to me. I hate them all equally.

“All of you! Let’s go! One by one; you know the drill,” another shouts. I recognize his voice. It’s Hali, who has worked at this mine for as long as I have been here. He’s older, with hints of gray running through his long hair, and a mean bastard. Although I can’t blame him, I’d be mean, too, if I had to endure this place for years upon years. Two sun-cycles are more than enough. It’s two too many.

We get into line, shoulders slumped. Working the salt mines is draining, backbreaking work. My bones ache with fatigue. We have five more days to go before our rest day will arrive. It feels like an age. I try not to think about it. It is best not to think too far into the future. It’s the only way to cope mentally.

Taylor steps up behind me. I can feel his heat against my back, even though he isn’t touching me. I know he’s peering into my basket without having to look at him. I can almost feel his mind working. I know exactly what he is going to say before he says it.

“You should take one of mine,” he whispers.

Helping each other is not permitted. Either you’re making the quota, or you’re not. It’s as simple as that.

I give a quick shake of my head, keeping my eyes trained up ahead. I don’t want to make trouble for Taylor. If we get caught, he’ll get sent to his quarters without any food at all.

“You’re going to be short,” he says so softly I can barely hear him.

I swallow hard. I fear that he might be right. “I’ll pick up the pace tomorrow,” I whisper.

He gives a small snort that I am able to understand, since Taylor and I have been friends for so long. He doesn’t think I’ll be able to pick up the pace tomorrow without a proper meal in my belly tonight, and he’s probably right.

Thing is, Taylor is a big man. He’s just as tall and almost as built as the blasted fae who are holding us captive. The only difference is he doesn’t have pointy ears or those weird eyes. From behind, if you weren’t looking too hard, you might mistake him for one. Most of us humans don’t measure up, but Taylor does.

It’s a big help to him, considering the arduous labor expected of us, but there are downsides. Namely, when you’re that big, you need more food to sustain you. It’s a simple fact.

That’s why, if you increase your quota of salt enough, you get a bigger ration. You get more meat. It’s food this idiot man needs to maintain his size. Only, he never listens to me. I’m only his best friend. The person who knows him better than anyone. My opinion doesn’t count for much. Taylor’s heart is just as big as the rest of him. I feel myself go all warm inside. He’s sweet for putting himself on the line for me, but as his friend, I can’t allow it.

“I’m fine. I don’t need much,” I whisper as someone gives a pitiful wail up ahead. I’ll bet their ration has been cut. If you don’t deliver the goods, you don’t get much in the way of food.

The wail gets louder, and the begging starts. I grit my teeth, shutting my eyes tightly.

“Move on!” Hali shouts. “Rules are rules.”

“Please, I—” the person wails.

There is a sharp slapping sound, the wail is cut off, and the person shuffles away, crying softly.

My heart breaks for them. It isn’t far. I hate these bastards. I drop the rope attached to my basket and take a step forward.

Taylor puts his hands on both my shoulders and pulls me back. “Don’t,” he warns me.

One of the guards peers at me through slitted eyes, daring me to step out of line, to make a scene.

Instead, I push out a defeated breath and step back where I belong. I know my place, and it eats me up inside.

Kakara, give me strength.

I hate this. I hate it here.

Taylor puts the rope back in my hand, and I mutter a soft word of thanks, glancing back for a second. I’m not sure what I would do without him. I don’t think I’d still be standing if it weren’t for him.

We shuffle forward, pulling our baskets along behind us. I detest this time of day. It kills me every time. I keep my eyes trained ahead. I work hard at ignoring the tears of those who didn’t make their quota. At ignoring the hanging heads and the dull eyes.

There are guards scattered around us at intervals. They are wearing leather armor over their chests instead of the usual silver-and-bronze-plated armor. It’s no wonder, with the heat and harsh conditions. They mostly keep their longer hair tied up with pieces of leather, as do we humans. Haircuts are few and far between out here.

There aren’t that many of them. One to every fifteen of us. Even though they are empty fae, it is still plenty to keep us in line and under control, since we are unarmed and puny by comparison. The fae have superhuman strength and long blades in scabbards at their sides or across their backs. They’re armed to the teeth and not afraid to kill at the first sign of retaliation.

I look out over the desert again and sigh. The fae guards are here to make sure we work hard. They are the keepers of the resources. Of the water and of the food. We have to earn both if we want to survive. That’s all it is: survival. It’s certainly not much of a life.

“Please! Pleeeease. I need more food. I can’t keep going, I—”

“Walk on!” the guard at the front of the line says.

“Go! Get on with you,” Hali yells in a gruff voice that leaves no room for misunderstanding.

The man starts crying as he staggers forward, dragging his basket-sleigh along with him. His arm is bony, and his skin is like leather from the sun. His hair is prematurely gray. My heart goes out to him. Miss enough proper meals out here, and you die. It’s as simple as that. The fae are constantly capturing humans to replace us. They don’t care about anything other than obtaining their precious salt so that they can barter with the other kinds of fae for magic. Our captors are emptyfae. They don’t have magic of their own. I overheard that Queen Snow expects taxes to be paid in magic. Just like if we don’t deliver, the end result is death, the same goes for them…our captors. We’re all prisoners out here. Every last one of us, even if there aren’t any actual bars or shackles, there may as well be.

There is no escape. Only death. It’s such a negative way of thinking.

We walk forward, but for a second, my basket doesn’t budge. I have to pull harder. Glancing back, I expect to see one of the skis embedded in the sand, but that isn’t the case. It’s fuller than it was before. I narrow my eyes at Taylor, who winks at me.

That insufferable man.

My jaw goes tight, and I glare at him, even though I am instantly filled with relief. More warmth floods me. He is such a good friend. I am indebted to him, and if we ever make it out of here, I plan to find a way to repay him.

He puts his fingers over his lips and gives me a hint of a smile. His warm brown eyes dance with mischief.

If you ask me, he has far too much energy for someone who has worked for eleven hours in the blazing sun. Perhaps I deserve his extra rations after all.

I smile at him, getting a grin back. One that lights up his whole face. I’m not sure what I did to deserve him.

All too soon, it is my turn. My basket is hooked onto the scale, the arrow going into the green.

I am handed a token. It’s plain hammered iron, but it may as well be gold for all it signifies. I tie it to the leather around my throat, tucking it into my chemise. I am to receive more than just the tasteless gruel. I made quota and will, therefore, get a chunk of meat, and all thanks to Taylor.

“Move, girl!” Hali yells at me. “You got your token.” His icy blue eyes send a cold shiver down my spine.

I hate him. He doesn’t have to be so cruel, so damned uncaring. Then again, he is a fae. Why would I expect more?

I have to bite back a retort as I move forward, waiting a little ahead for Taylor to get done weighing his salt.

He steps forward, and they go through the motions. As expected, the arrow goes to the green instead of to the black zone where it belongs. He’ll get a small iron token instead of a larger one. No extra ration for him tonight because of me.

I rub my eyes.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I tell him as we walk away. “I’m fine with gruel.”

“No one is fine eating that slop.”

I don’t bother arguing because he’s right. The gruel is thin and almost tasteless. It almost costs more energy to eat than it gives.

“How’s the shoulder?” He notes how I have swapped arms. I’m now pulling my basket-sleigh with my left hand instead of my right.

“Much better,” I lie.

He chuckles, leveling me with a look.

I roll my eyes. “It’s…it…” I sigh. “It could be better.” This man knows me so well. It can be infuriating at times.

I roll my right shoulder, wincing at the sharp pain that runs down my arm. Endless hours, days, and months out here are taking their toll on me. All of the chipping away at the thick, hard salt is backbreaking and damaging to the body.

He takes my rope from me, dragging two baskets instead of one.

“What? No, it’s—”

“I’m much stronger than you. You need a break so that you can heal.”

Again, I don’t argue; there’s no point.

I sigh, “Thank you, Taylor. You’re one in a million. I wish I could repay you somehow.”

“I don’t need payment for anything. Friends help friends; it’s as simple as that.”

“Except it should work both ways. It’s a little skewed right now.”

“Just heal up and don’t worry about it,” he tells me.

We both know that it isn’t going to happen. We don’t get enough time off to heal. It doesn’t matter that I’m still fairly young. The salt mine will end us all. It’s just a matter of time. I can’t allow myself to dwell on it or to think about it. I need to keep going. To keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I force a smile. “Did you speak with Lona?”

He makes a huffing noise. “There’s no time for any of that.”

“I told you that she likes you. You should speak to her. Lona is pretty, and she’s really sweet, too,” I urge. “You could do worse.”

He shakes his head. “I should speak to her, and then what, Ky?”

“I don’t know.” I snort. “Have a little fun. At least one of our beds will be warm at night.”

He gets a dark look. “What if I get her with child?” He speeds up, and I have to work to keep up. “This is no place for…for love, for a family…for any of that nonsense.”

I laugh. “I didn’t say anything about love, Taylor. Definitely didn’t say anything about a family. Surely you must know that the women here drink a tea made from black bark? It prevents the womb from quickening with life.”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“You didn’t know.” I laugh. “It’s normal for people to…you know…even out here.” I look around us. “Even half-starved.” I look down at my torn pants and leather sandals. Everything is covered in sand. “I haven’t seen you look at a woman, let alone…” I lift my brows. “All I’m saying is that it would be a stress reliever for you. Your shoulders look awfully tense.”

“You can massage them later for me as thanks for that token.” He glances at the area between my breasts where my token is safely nestled. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Who are you letting under your covers at night? I haven’t seen you accept a single advance.”

I shake my head. “I haven’t.”

“That’s what I thought, Ky. Yet you talk to me of Lona.”

I give him a sideways glance. “We should probably change the subject.”

Taylor laughs as we arrive at the waiting camels. A guard gives him a hard look. “What’s so funny, human? Eleven hours not enough for you?”

“I’m laughing at nothing at all, and eleven hours was more than enough, thanks.” Taylor smiles at him. It’s another new fae since I don’t recognize him either. “It looks like it’s going to be a good evening. No sandstorms on the horizon. I made quota.” He shrugs. “I would think that is reason enough to laugh.”

The fae nods once. “There is word of desert swimmers close to camp. I wouldn’t talk of a good evening just yet. I’d get indoors and batten down the hatches as soon as possible if I were you. Now hurry along.”

The camels bellow as we empty our baskets on the floor in piles, ready to be loaded. The animals will soon be taken to the barn up on the flat rocks next to our dwellings. Safe from the wurms. I shudder just thinking of all the predators out there.

Then we make for the low stone buildings that almost seem to be made from the desert itself. There are very few small windows carved into the structures we call home.

“By the way, I haven’t forgotten,” Taylor says to me as we walk toward the eating hall.

“What haven’t you forgotten?” I ask, frowning.

“That there is a special day coming up.” He lifts his brows.

“What special day?” I scoff. “There are no special days out here, just days.” I shake my head. I know what he is referring to.

“That’s not true. A birthing day is special. It doesn’t matter where you are; it’s the people you share it with who count.”

“Namely you.” I snicker.

“Yes.” He gets this smug look. “As your best friend, I am going to make sure that you have the best day possible.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“You’ll see.”

I smile, wondering what he has up his sandy sleeve. I feel a flutter of excitement. Something I haven’t felt in a very long time.

Leave it to Taylor to pull a rabbit or two out of an old hat. I am lucky to have him. I don’t think I would have made it this far without him.

He’s like light in the dark. Water in the desert. I wonder, and not for the first time, why we never…went there. It’s too late now; I know Taylor too well. He knows me even better. We work too well as friends. It’ll never be anything more.