Chapter 7

7

D amon

The sun is almost on the horizon. Soon, darkness will fall.

“It’ll have to do,” I tell Kyrie. “We don’t have much of a choice.” I scrub a hand over my face.

“That’s barely more than a rock. It’s too small.” She shakes her head, looking around us. “I can’t see anything else but sand.” She looks off into the desert, peering in all directions. “Sand, sand, and more blasted sand.”

“Neither can I, and my eyesight is better than yours. This is going to have to do.”

“You said that the smell of blood would draw predators.” Her eyes are wide, and her voice is slightly shrill. “Of all the nights to have to sleep on such a tiny patch of rock, this had to be it. There are more of us…it’s…we…” She sighs. “I don’t like it, Tay— I don’t like it!” she pushes out, sounding annoyed at the slip.

“It’s big enough; we’ll make do,” I try to reassure her but from the stiffness in her shoulders, I can see that it isn’t working.

I turn my gaze back to the rocky patch. There are several big boulders atop a small rocky base. There is a wide gap between two of the rocks. The camels should fit inside it. I’m going to put a rope across the opening to keep them inside the small space. They should be safe if they stay put. I hope it’s deep and narrow enough to keep the wurms out. Then there’s a much smaller crevice that will be big enough for Cyrano. That doesn’t leave much space for Kyrie and me. If the wurms come for us, we will be in trouble. They’d get us on top of the rocks, so it’s not an option for escape. There would be very little space in either crevice. We might have to sacrifice a camel, but that would be the last resort.

With no other option, I lead the camels toward the outcrop. As we arrive, I offer my hand to Kyrie, but as usual, she ignores me and jumps from the beast, landing on her feet. She dusts herself off, pulling her hemp scarf from her head, allowing her hair to fall free.

Despite the sand, the dust, and the grime, she’s still beautiful. I would love to give her more words of encouragement, soothe her with a touch or a silly joke, but I can’t. I know it wouldn’t be well received. Not anymore.

I grab one of the bedrolls and place it as deep inside the narrow crevice as I can. I have to turn a little sideways to fit my shoulders in. Cyrano will be safe in here. Then I maneuver the camel carrying the injured man as close to the small crevice as we can get, and ask her to go down. Kyrie helps me to get him off the beast.

I take his shoulders, and most of the weight, and Kyrie keeps his feet from dragging on the ground and we slowly get him over to the bedroll. It takes a few attempts to get him settled.

After covering him with a blanket, Kyrie fetches the skin and tries to get Cyrano to drink. She talks to him even though he probably can’t hear her.

“He’s out of it,” she says, looking worried. Her eyes are clouded with the emotion. “He isn’t swallowing.”

“Let him rest for a while. You can try again a little later.”

She nods.

“We’ll leave at sunup and should make it to the oasis tomorrow. I’ll be able to help him then.”

“That’s if he lasts the night.” She looks down at the ground for a moment, gathering herself.

I nod. “We’ve done our best, Ky. There isn’t much more that we can do, aside from keeping him safe. If another lizard bird hadn’t come along to finish him off, the wurms certainly would have. We’re his best chance. There isn’t too much more either of us can do.”

She nods, looking downtrodden. I wish I could go over there and give her a tight hug. I know it would make her feel better. Since I can’t do that, I start untacking the nearest camel instead. Kyrie joins me; taking a brush out of the saddlebag, she starts to groom the first beast.

After taking care of the animals as best we can, we set up camp. I wish we had wood to burn. A fire would brighten the mood. Then we eat from our paltry rations. Although all of Cyrano’s water was finished, he still has his saddlebag, and therefore, between us, we should have enough food to get us through the desert. That’s something positive to hold on to.

Kyrie checks on Cyrano again.

“He still isn’t drinking any water,” she tells me as she leaves the crevice. “It’s tight in there.”

“Try again in the morning.” I wish I had more to offer. “I’ll take first watch.”

Kyrie doesn’t argue. I suspect that she is exhausted after our long and eventful day.

Her bedroll is right up against the rock, close to the crevice the camels are squeezed into. The beasts are calm, considering the confined space.

All is quiet.

Kyrie’s breathing soon changes as she falls asleep. It doesn’t take very long at all.

I should be tired as well, but I’m not. I’m on edge. It remains quiet. Too quiet. I have this buzzing feeling in my veins.

I’m jumpy. Twitchy as hell. My senses strain to pick something up. Both my senses and my powers are telling me to be on high alert. Like something is out there…and it turns out that my intuition is right. It doesn’t take long for the wurm to arrive.

It comes at me with such stealth that I very nearly get taken. I roll away at the last second, the creature getting a maw full of rock instead of flesh as expected. It growls in anger.

As it pulls back, all I see are rows and rows of sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Its round mouth is big enough to swallow each of us whole. I scramble to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I search desperately for a weapon. My hand lands on a large, sharp rock. I grasp it tightly.

Kyrie screams in fear, and the beast turns its attention to her.

No!

With a primal roar, the wurm charges again, its massive body shaking the ground beneath us. I swing the rock with all my might, aiming for the creature’s head as it streaks past me toward Kyrie, who scrambles away, the blanket still wrapped around her legs.

I can’t kill the beast so easily, but I must have hurt it because it lets out a deafening screech of pain and retreats.

It doesn’t take long for the wurm to regroup. After a few shakes of its massive head, it turns back to us…to me.

Kyrie

I scream again.

We’re dead. There is no way we are surviving this. How? The wurm is too big, too strong, and built to kill.

Kakara, help us!

The camels bellow and bleat, stomping and blowing in fear. There is a half-moon in the sky offering just enough visibility to scare me. I can see it.

That wurm is huge. Its many teeth are almost as big as my forearm. It’s terrifying. Far worse than any lizard bird.

The only consolation is that if it gets me, I’ll be dead quickly.

Damon hits it on the head, stunning it for a moment, or I’d be dead already. Now, he half drags me to the camels, pushing me beneath the creatures’ legs.

They shriek as the wurm attacks again. The camels leap, forcing themselves deeper into the crevice. I get knocked to the side, pressing my back against the rock wall. The ground vibrates with each impact of the wurm’s massive body. I gasp, trying to hold back another scream. I get the feeling that the noise only serves to incite the beast even further.

In the chaos, I catch a glimpse of Damon darting up and down; he throws well-aimed rocks. His movements are quick and agile but don’t hold much weight against the huge beast.

The camels kick out as the wurm lashes its spiked tail dangerously close, breaking off stony chunks of rock that clatter all around. I turn my head, closing my eyes. My heart is pounding in my chest as I pray for some miracle to save us from this nightmare.

It comes in the form of Damon.

“Close your eyes!” he yells.

They are already tightly shut, but I see it anyway. A big flash of blinding white light. The camels bellow in fear, and the wurm roars in agony. There is a crashing noise as it makes a hasty retreat into the depths of the sand.

Wurms can’t abide light. It hurts them. It blinds them.

The smell of magic is around us. It smells clean and of power. Like how the air is charged after a particularly aggressive storm.

I open my eyes and see Damon standing in front of me, his hands glowing with residual energy.

I look around in shock, trying to process what just happened. The camels are huddled next to me, trembling but unharmed. I am amazed that I didn’t get trodden underfoot.

Aside from a few scrapes and bruises, I am unharmed too and all because of him. He looks somehow taller and stronger. I can’t quite make out his facial features.

“You did it.” I sound in total awe.

“We got lucky,” he says in a deep voice that I recognize. Once again, I am reminded of my friend.

“It was hardly luck. It was you,” I tell him. After a few beats, I add, “Thank you.” He risked his life to save us.

“You should try to get back to sleep.”

Kakara would be so lucky. I doubt there will be any sleep for me tonight. Not after that.

“I want to check on Cyrano first. Is that okay?”

“Be quick,” he urges, standing and looking out over the dark of the desert.

“I will.” I nod and carefully make my way over to where Cyrano is lying, squeezing into the crevice. I put my hand on his cheek, feeling warmth. Still alive but perhaps too warm to the touch. I wouldn’t be surprised if those wounds are becoming infected, and without all of the necessary herbs and tinctures, my hands are tied.

I sigh with both relief and worry.

“How is he doing?” Damon whispers.

“Still alive,” I say simply.

“Good.”

I retrieve the blanket and start toward the bedroll.

“I want you to sleep with the camels.”

“There’s no space inside there. I almost got trampled.”

“They won’t stand on us if they can help it.”

I choke out a laugh. “You’re not doing such a good job of convincing me.” I realize that I’m still smiling and force myself to stop.

We are no longer friends. Even if he saved us from that wurm, it doesn’t change anything.

“I doubt it will be very comfortable, but at least it will be relatively safe. We can rest up when we reach the oasis.”

There is almost no space inside the larger crevice. The camels are huge. I squeeze my way in to the side, keeping my back against the rocky wall. Then I wrap the blanket over my shoulders, staying upright with my knees against my chest.

The camels have calmed down. They are standing quietly. One well-placed kick to the face, and I am dead.

“That’s a good girl,” Damon says. For a second, I think that he is talking to me, but then I realize that he is stroking the camel’s neck.

“I thought you were an icefae. Surely you don’t have camels in your kingdom? I’ve heard it’s covered in snow all year round.”

“We have horses and dogs to pull our sleighs. It’s a matter of reading a creature…of understanding them. You should try to get some sleep.”

I yawn. “I’ll try,” I mutter. “Wake me up to take over the watch.”

“I will.”

Then Damon sits at the opening of the crevice, right in front of me. So close I can feel his warmth. When his back brushes against my thigh, I know that he is right up close.

I don’t like it, but I understand why he is doing it, so I bite my tongue. He’s trying to protect me. Putting himself in the line of danger to do so.

There’s definitely no sleep for me tonight. First the wurm and now this. I’m uncomfortable against the rock, sitting upright with Damon touching me.

I must fall asleep, and Damon omits to wake me because the sun is on the horizon when my eyes flutter open.

My cheek is plastered against his warm, muscular back. My whole body is leaning against Damon instead of the wall. I’m sleeping on the fae.

I suck in a breath and sit up.

“Good morning,” he says in a rumble.

“You didn’t wake me up.” My voice is groggy with sleep. I really crashed hard. I must have been far more tired than I ever thought.

“You needed the rest.”

“You need rest, too.” My cheeks feel hot with embarrassment. I’m so glad he isn’t looking at me. This is awkward. I slept against him. It’s not like Taylor and I haven’t slept in the same bed on occasion. It was never weird or awkward.

This feels different.

It feels wrong.

I need air. I need to get away from him.

“I need to check on Cyrano.” There is that, too.

Damon moves away and stands, offering me a hand. I roll my eyes and take it, letting go as soon as I am standing. “You should have woken me up.”

I go to check on Cyrano. His skin is now hot to the touch. It’s flushed pink. I coax him to drink some water. He mutters something incoherent.

“He’s worse,” I tell Damon, who nods, his expression grave.

“We need to get moving.”

We make quick work of breakfast and tacking up the camels. This time, Damon has us tie Cyrano onto the injured camel, although I am happy to note that the minor wounds are healing nicely.

“We’ll ride together,” Damon says. “We need to be as fast as possible, or he might not make it.”

He’s right.

I mount up first, and then Damon gets on behind me, his arms on either side of me as he takes up the reins. His muscular thighs brush against me.

It’s going to be a long ride.

I only hope that Cyrano holds on. Then we are moving. It doesn’t take long for Damon to urge the beasts into a steady pace. His big body rocks against mine. I feel caged in and hot. I feel…my skin prickle.

“Stop.”

Damon pulls up. “Is everything okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“I preferred to be at the back…um…behind you. Can we swap?”

“No. You’re safer where you are should a lizard bird attack. I saw two flying in the distance a little earlier.”

I shiver.

“It’s fine. They continued on their way, but…”

“I get it,” I say in a soft voice. “It’s fine…I…it…” I lick my dry lips. “It’s fine. I was being silly.”

Then Damon is kicking our camel back into a jog. I pray we get there soon.