Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Keera

P ersistent, gnawing hunger brought me to awareness, as it usually did. My mind jumped into calculations, counting how many strips of dried oryx meat I had left to determine if I could afford to eat breakfast. While I normally liked to hunt first and save my meal for the hottest part of the day when I would hide away from the sun in my lean-to, today wouldn’t be one of those days. The hollow feeling in my belly was too intense for hunting without sustenance today. As I tried to move my limbs, they sank into the soft surface below me as if rooted there.

I froze instantly. The surface below me was far more comfortable than my barren nest of pilfered cushions and threadbare rugs. My eyes snapped open, and I drew in a sharp breath through cracked lips at the sight of solid stone above me.

“She lives!” proclaimed a male voice.

I turned my head, cheek brushing against a pillow so silky, it didn’t even chafe my perpetually sunburned face.

A brown-skinned man stood in my line of sight, smiling broadly at me, before my brief glance at him was blocked by a figure immediately beside me. She fell to her knees and cocked her head, her eyes unsmiling but kind. I recognized her as the woman who approached Daiti and me when…

Kelvadan.

That’s where I was. I struggled to sit up, arms weak as desert grass blowing in the wind. The woman helped me with firm hands on my shoulders. The touch of human hands still surprised me, and I tensed.

“You’re safe, it’s all right,” she insisted in a firm tone that still somehow managed to be comforting. Maybe it was the way her reassurances brooked no argument.

I opened my mouth to speak, but while less dry than it had been before, my swollen tongue still refused to form words. As I sat there with my mouth hanging open, I studied the woman before me, drinking in yet another new set of human features. Her hood now pooled around her shoulders, revealing a clean-shaven head; a single thick line was inked into her skin, running from her forehead across her scalp, the black stark in contrast with her pale skin. Her eyes narrowed as she examined me in turn, although I didn’t sense malice in their icy-blue depths.

Another figure coming to kneel at the side of the low couch where I lay stole my attention. The man I’d seen earlier offered me a cup, and I snatched it from him before I could stop myself. He smiled at me, the twinkle in his dark eyes almost as bright as the light reflecting off the silver beads adorning his black braids. I lifted the cup to my lips and gulped down the heart-wrenchingly delicious water inside, some overflowing the sides of my mouth to dribble down my chin.

I yanked the cup from my lips with great effort, wanting to down it all in swallow after glorious swallow, but knowing from experience that would only end in me vomiting it all up again. I knew better than to waste precious resources like that.

The woman took advantage of my distraction to explain. “I brought you back to my home after you lost consciousness. You’ve only been out for an hour or so. Shade and water can do wonders.”

“Why?” I croaked out. Some of the urgency from before I fainted returned, but it waged war in my chest with the wariness of strangers—especially ones showing this degree of unwarranted kindness.

“Kelvadan is a safe haven for all who travel the Ballan Desert,” the man exclaimed cheerfully, gesturing expansively as if he had been personally appointed to welcome weary travelers.

I blinked. Could it be possible that this city was really the paradise I had dreamed? It had seemed rather like a place of legend as I approached the mountains, but that might have just been from my exhaustion.

“It is, and it is my job to keep it that way,” the woman agreed. “I’m captain of the Kelvadan riders, and the last thing you said before collapsing was about a threat to Kelvadan.”

I opened my mouth, the determination that had carried me across the sands bolstered by the reminder of my purpose. Clan Katal would destroy this wonderful place. A place that I had dreamed for so long could offer me a home.

“She will tell us about this threat over a meal,” the man cut in before I could launch into whatever had been about to come spilling out of me. “She’s clearly had quite a journey, and it won’t do to have her collapsing in the middle of her tale.”

I swung my legs over the side of the couch, turning to take in the room where I had been resting more thoroughly. Seeing rich fabrics hanging from the walls, sheer curtains looking light as air as they billowed from the slight breeze coming through the windows, I winced at the crust of dirt I currently smeared on the couch beneath me. The bright colors and variety of textures gave the modest size room a sense of luxury despite its odd construction. It was completely hewn of gray stone, from the floor to the ceilings to the walls, with no joints to indicate a construction from blocks.

It had seemed like the city was carved directly into the mountainside as Daiti and I approached, and I could see now it was true.

“ Daiti ,” I gasped.

The woman shot me a question look.

“My…” I swallowed, knowing that he wasn’t exactly my horse, but now wasn’t the time to broach that. “My horse.”

“He’s in the stables right next to Neven’s,” she assured. “Although it was no mean feat getting him there. It certainly seems you are the only person he tolerates.”

I blinked. He had seemed friendly enough to me, putting up with my undignified mounting and unpracticed riding. I hadn’t seen him around other people yet. Still, I was glad for him to be cared for after I dragged him away from his home and across the desert.

“Come,” the man beckoned, gesturing me over to a table he was currently setting with food. My eyes widened at the sight of fruit and roasted meat. Even bread—a rarely heard of luxury among the clans, where the nomadic lifestyle did not lend itself to farming grain.

I lowered myself to one of the cushions around the low table on shaky legs, balling my hands into fists and tucking them under my thighs to keep from immediately grabbing at all the food I could reach. My instincts told me to snatch as much as I could while it was in front of me, but it hadn’t been so long since I had been among my clan that I didn’t remember how civilized people behaved. Now that my brain was sluggishly recovering from my exhaustion, it latched on to the need to hide my status as an exile from these people. As far as they knew, I had a horse. I was a member of a clan. If they found I was an exile, they might ask why. If they found out what I had done, I might be cast from this incredible place.

“Eat,” the woman insisted. “You look like you have had quite a long journey and could use all the sustenance we can offer.”

My hand shot out and snatched the closest piece of meat, looking like the roast leg of some bird. I brought it to my mouth without bothering with the plate before me. I tore into it, hot grease dripping down my chin and my eyes stinging with unshed tears at the taste of spices and fresh meat.

“Besides, with your mouth full, it will give us a chance to introduce ourselves properly,” the man cut in, thankfully diverting attention from my behavior. “I’m Neven, and this is my wife, Aderyn. She serves Queen Ginevra and has been charged with keeping the city safe. I still don’t know why she agreed to marry me, a simple weaver.”

Aderyn smacked Neven on the arm, her expression softening into something akin to a smile as she chewed a bite of bread. “You act as if the queen’s dresses aren’t all crafted of the fine fabrics you make.”

“And who might we have the pleasure of having at our table?” Neven asked, turning back to me. I had already picked most of the meat off the bone in my hand, and my stomach clenched as it squeezed around the food, unused to rich fare after so much hunger.

“Keera,” I volunteered, expecting awkward silence after my name where I would normally announce my clan. I considered lying and naming one, but Neven and Aderyn didn’t even seem to notice. They had only given their own names too, I realized.

“And what brings you to Kelvadan, Keera?” Aderyn asked.

I swallowed, to dispel the tightness of sudden nerves in my throat. I had come this far to warn the Great City of what was to come. I couldn’t fail now simply out of fear of accidentally revealing myself as an exile.

“I was captured by Clan Katal. They planned to sacrifice me to the desert to please her.”

Aderyn frowned, and Neven shook his head, but neither interrupted.

“While I was captive, I heard their leader, Lord Alasdar, talking of his plans. He’s… he is uniting the tribes. Once he has all nine tribes under his banner, he plans to attack Kelvadan. I managed to escape and came to warn you.”

The plate Neven had been holding clattered against the table as he nearly dropped it, but the line between Aderyn’s brows only deepened as she frowned.

“Kelvadan is the only place where the tribes meet in peace. He will never be able to unite them,” she said, although a question in her tone betrayed her concern.

“Four clans have already agreed to his plans. I… I don’t think he is giving them much choice,” I admitted. The image of the man they had called captain, in his metal mask with his long saber, flashed in my mind. If he was the one sent to convince the other lords to join them, I didn’t think he would stop at peaceful negotiations. Then again, he hadn’t killed me when he had the chance.

“The queen will want to hear everything you know,” Aderyn said, and I stiffened.

I already felt out of my depth here in Neven and Aderyn’s lovely home. I hadn’t worn clothes that were not second-hand in over a decade, and the cloth looked even more ragged next to the lavish upholstery in Aderyn’s home. I didn’t know how I could possibly face a queen .

“We will get you cleaned up, no worries. And I’m sure I can dig up something for you to wear that will make the queen want to order an outfit for herself,” Neven offered.

“After you’ve eaten of course,” Aderyn added.

The ball of anxiety in my stomach only eased slightly at their reassurances, but I nodded all the same. If warning Kelvadan of Lord Alasdar was the reason for my years of survival, then I would face the queen with all the courage I had left.

I stopped eating after another piece of bread and a piece of fruit, the likes of which I had never had. When I looked at it curiously, and Neven showed me how to remove the thick rind to get at the tart flesh within, Aderyn explained that it was from traders who came through the mountains to the city. They wouldn’t venture out into the harsh conditions of the sands and chance the wrath of the clans, especially not without any way to navigate, but ventured to the city with increasing frequency over the past decades.

Even as I wiped my hands on the cloth Neven offered me, my stomach full to bursting, I eyed the pieces of bread and fruit remaining on the table. It went against my very bones to leave food uneaten, and I wondered if I could store a couple of the fruits in my shirt.

“I’m sure the queen will insist on feeding you too,” Neven said, giving me a knowing, sidelong glance.

I nodded.

“Let’s get you clean while Neven finds you some clothes that will fit.” Aderyn led me from the room through a hewn arch of a doorway and down a narrow hall to a small chamber. The gentle patter of trickling water echoed in the tight space. Even as I watched liquid trickle down from the ceiling in a fountain in wonder, my skin crawled. After years of sleeping under the open sky, only ever taking shelter in my lean-to during the hottest hours of the day and the occasional sandstorm, being encased by stone was unnerving. The weight of the mountain I knew the house was set in pressed in around me, and it took several seconds of focusing on the sound of water to center my thoughts again.

“There is soap over here.” Aderyn gestured to a ledge cut into the wall. “The water is cold, but it beats carrying buckets from the well for a bath. ”

I held my hand out into the stream in wonder, finding it icy as she indicated.

“It comes directly from the springs high in the mountains. The tunnels were carved into the mountain along with the city,” she explained. “Not every home has them, and some people still prefer warm baths. I myself find the cold bracing.”

She gave me a sharp nod before turning and leaving me to my own devices. I stripped from my clothes, nearly taking my skin off in the process as the grime and sweat clung to me. I had the delirious thought that I could peel my skin off like the rind of the fruit, so thick was the crust of dirt and sand. I stifled a choked laugh, the broken sound echoing in the enclosed space. The exhaustion that still clung to me, and the panic at being shut in a stone room, were getting the better of me, and I turned my focus back to undressing. As tattered as my clothes were after being taken from a passing clan—already well worn—I normally kept them and myself relatively clean, rinsing in the oasis every day.

Sand dusted the floor as I dropped the tunic and loose pants to the ground along with my sash and hood. I stepped under the water, and while it stole my breath with the sudden change of temperature, I didn’t shy away. Aderyn was right that the cold was bracing. It soothed the sharp sting of my sunburnt skin to pleasant numbness.

Once I was accustomed to the temperature, I plucked the soap from the alcove and began cleaning. While I rinsed regularly, I rarely had the luxury of soap or water quite this crystal clear. Wiping away the layers of dust revealed tanned skin whose color I had not seen clearly in some time. I washed my hair, the dusty color turning to a dark brown, lighter than the nearly black it had once, before so much sunlight.

A knock sounded at the door, and I called for Aderyn to enter. She rounded the corner and stared for a second. I looked down at myself to see what she was staring at, before remembering my modesty. Alone in the sands, I was often naked whenever it suited me, usually only to be seen by a curious black-tailed jackrabbit or a passing fennec fox. I hadn’t given any thought to my appearance in recent memory, and I wondered what she saw what she looked at me.

My hands drifted in front of me, but Aderyn shook her head .

“They must have held you captive a very long time.”

I swallowed and offered a jerky nod by way of response. If she thought my sorry state was due to captivity, I wouldn’t disillusion her. While Kelvadan was rumored to welcome even exiles, my lack of a clan shamed me to admit. Still, as she held out a cloth to dry myself and a bundle of clothes, guilt creeped its way into my gut. I shouldn’t lie to somebody showing me such kindness, especially when my presence might be putting them in danger. It was a detail I always glossed over when envisioning building a life for myself in Kelvadan—that I would endanger everybody here just as I had endangered my clan. After several days of being around other people once more, I wasn’t willing to give up company again quite yet. Once I told the queen about Clan Katal, then I would be honest with Aderyn.

After drying myself off with the proffered cloth, I shook out the clothes to reveal loose pants that tapered around the ankle, and cropped tunic that would leave my arms and abdomen bare. Both were a golden-yellow color, threads of a darker shade of the same tone forming unknowable patterns on the shoulders and at the waistband.

“These are too beautiful,” I admitted.

“It pleases Neven to make lovely things.” A smile tugged at Aderyn’s lips and softened the lines around her eyes, an expression she only seemed to wear when speaking of her husband.

I put the garments on, unsurprised but dismayed when the pants hung at my waist, leaving my protruding ribs exposed.

“Neven will be disappointed that he doesn’t have time to tailor it, but he’ll make sure you look your best regardless.”

Aderyn beckoned me from the room, and I trailed her down the narrow hallway, this time more prepared but still unnerved by the stone walls pressing close on either side. We entered the same room we had eaten in where Neven still waited.

He folded his arms, cocking his head to assess me. Humming under his breath, he turned to a nearby chest and dug through it before emerging with several lengths of cloth, both a rich blue the color of a night sky turned to velvet by a full moon.

“These will do for now.” He approached me, winding one wide strip around my waist as a sash, securing the pants more tightly around my jutting hipbones. He stepped behind me, using the other to tie back my hair, long loose ends hanging down alongside the still-damp tendrils.

“Lovely,” he proclaimed, stepping back to assess his handiwork. He grabbed a hand mirror from a nearby chest and handed it to me to admire the final result. I lifted it slowly, as if afraid of the face that might stare back at me as I had only seen my reflection distorted in the rippling pool of the oasis.

I blinked at the heart-shaped face that greeted me in the mirror. The golden eyes, set deep under a prominent brow, were darker than I remembered from my youth, and the slight upturn of my nose stood out all the more from the hollowness of my cheekbones. I handed the mirror back quickly.

“Thank you. The outfit is beautiful,” I said.

Aderyn nodded in agreement. “Time to meet Queen Ginevra.”

I jumped for the third time in as many minutes as a shoulder brushed against mine, my heart in my throat. It took several deep breaths before I could continue walking normally along the winding road up the mountain toward the peak of Kelvadan. I had been bracing myself for my introduction to the queen and had not expected the journey to the palace to be as overwhelming as meeting royalty might be. The walk from the middle tiers of Kelvadan (where Aderyn and Neven lived) to the peak where the palace was made my skin crawl. People were everywhere, barely having to look at each other as they went about their business in a complex choreography, coexisting but never getting in each other’s way. Compared to the silence of the wilds, broken only by the rustling of wind in desert scrub and the occasional hoot of an Omani owl, Kelvadan was deafening. Voices sounded everywhere, and I found myself constantly distracted by stolen snippets of conversation, gone as fast as they had come in the whirlpool of human life around me. My heart rate jumped as somebody shouted a greeting from an open window.

We climbed through several tiers of the city, rising higher along the side of the mountain face. Finally, we walked through a broad set of metalwork gates into a much less densely populated courtyard. Across the open space stood a set of doors leading directly into the palace embedded into the side of the mountain, the top tier of the marvel that was Kelvadan, with a spire reaching high into the sky. I looked up at it, prepared to gawk at the incredible building, dotted with terraces and windows overlooking the city and the desert beyond.

Instead, my gaze caught on the statue in the middle of the courtyard. The stonework looked slightly different, as if it hadn’t been hewn into the mountain like the rest of the city but added later. A man sat astride a magnificent horse, oversized saber raised overhead in a clear depiction of power. His face burned into my mind, proud, regal, and wearing a confident smile that held just enough mischief to keep the depiction from seeming stuffy. I craned my neck to keep looking at it as Aderyn led me toward the doors.

The guards flanking the entrance nodded respectfully and opened the doors for us, clearly recognizing Aderyn and deferring to her authority. Inside, I didn’t know where to look, the decorations opulent yet elegant. Part of me had expected gaudy décor, but instead it spoke of understated luxury and beauty, wide windows letting in bright sunshine that gave the whole thing the feeling of being out of a dream.

Aderyn didn’t give me time to admire the lush tapestries and simple stonework further, leading me up several staircases until we reached a wide terrace, set with a small table and chairs. Sitting at one of the chairs, reading something off a scroll while her other hand held a cut crystal glass, was one of the most stunning women I had ever seen.

While the lines at the corners of her eyes and the thick strands of gray shot through her brown hair indicated the years of her youth were long since past, the queen sat with an elegance that made me stand up straighter myself. The intricately woven hairstyle piled atop her head and flowing silver dress might have seemed ostentatious on anybody else, but she wore them naturally. Her poise might have made her seem stuffy if not for the genuine smile that lit her eyes when she looked up and spotted us in the doorway.

“Aderyn my dear, I didn’t expect to see you until our meeting tomorrow!” She gestured to the empty chairs at the table before her gaze alighted on me. “And who did you bring with you? ”

An uncomfortable silence stretched as I opened and closed my mouth a few times.

“Keera,” I choked out. Hopefully introducing myself would get easier with practice, but it still came slowly to me. The silence where I would normally name my clan hung heavy in the air, but nobody seemed to notice.

“Keera came to the city from the desert earlier today, and she has some news I think you should hear.” Aderyn took a seat in one of the sculpted metal chairs around the table, and I followed her lead.

My eyes snagged on a pitcher, following the path of a droplet of condensation down the outside of the blue glass vessel. The queen reached for the pitcher and poured a glass of the liquid within before offering it to me.

I blinked in shock and took it from her with a nod of thanks. The gesture of service, even from a queen, did more to unstick my throat than the swallow of sweet and tangy liquid within. I didn’t recognize the flavor, but I instantly took another sip.

“What news from the sands?” the queen asked.

“Clan Katal, they plan to attack Kelvadan.”

“Lord Alasdar? How do you know this?” The queen’s lips turned down in a frown.

I told the queen all I had told Aderyn. When I finished, she sat back in her chair with a heavy sigh, still looking poised despite her slumped posture.

“When I heard of Lord Alasdar taking leadership of Clan Katal years back, I had hoped the position would satisfy his lust for power. After hearing nothing of him for years, I assumed my wish had come true. It seems I couldn’t be further from correct.” She tilted her head and observed me thoughtfully. “Did you hear how he is persuading the clans to unite? I doubt any lords would give up command of their own people easily.”

“He claimed it was the only way to appease the desert and…” I chewed my chapped lips, thinking back to being tied to the stake as Lord Alasdar whipped the crowd into a fevered frenzy. The harsh metal mask as a saber dug into my throat. “He has a man. They called him the Viper. They seemed to fear him. ”

“The Viper? Our intelligence has not told us of anybody by that description, but our news of the clans is sparce.” The queen frowned before schooling her expression back to concern. “Is the desert really so harsh these days?”

I looked down at my hands clasped in my lap, my ribs jutting out farther than I remembered even in years of exile. My struggles to survive hadn’t been merely the result of my isolation. Herds were scarcer with every cycle of the moon, and even the oryx and wild boar I hunted had less meat on them than they used to. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the visceral memory of lightning striking the sand in a supernatural storm. It certainly didn’t take a great amount of imagination to believe that the desert was punishing those who lived there.

“The sands are not a kind place to live,” I admitted. Even as I took a sip of my drink, reveling in the luxury of plentiful food and water, the words tasted off in my mouth. Survival had been difficult, but memories of my oasis—of the sun setting over the dunes, staining the whole world a burning gold—reminded me that the desert was a harsh but beautiful home. I frowned at thinking of the desert at home, when I was finally in the place I’d hoped to find belonging, but I brushed the thought away as the queen continued.

“Sands,” the queen swore. “Perhaps I haven’t been out of the city in too long. The Trials come soon though. They will be an opportunity to reconnect with the desert, sway the tribes into halting their aggression.”

Aderyn nodded, and I filed away my questions about the Trials to ask later. The phrase sounded like something out of a memory, but there was so much about Kelvadan I did not yet know.

“You have travelled far and risked your life to bring us this information,” the queen continued. “I would like to invite you to stay in the palace as a guest in thanks.”

I sputtered into my drink for a moment as I choked on a response. I couldn’t refuse a queen, but how could I keep my status as an exile secret right under her nose? Supposedly Kelvadan didn’t turn away those without a clan, but it might lead to questions of why I had been exiled. If Queen Ginevra found out what I had done, my punishment might be worse than being sent out into the desert on my own once more. I had just been given a chance at the belonging I had always sought, and I couldn’t bear to have it be ripped away so soon.

“After the trials she has endured, I think Keera would like to stay somewhere a little quieter to recover,” Aderyn cut in, shooting me an unreadable look. “If she were to stay with you, I fear you would subject her to a few too many dinners with important visitors that ended in too much laka and impromptu dance performances.”

“I like to keep my guests well entertained,” the queen defended with an affronted sniff, although she did not seem truly offended. “I hope you will at least come to the festival next week then.”

“Neven would never pass up having another model for his clothing.”

“Just make sure neither of you wear anything more spectacular than what he has already made for me.” Queen Ginevra pointed at each of us sternly.

I found myself smiling. Despite her regal appearance, the queen had a playful manner, so far from the clan lords I had become accustomed to.

Aderyn stood, and I copied her, quickly draining the dregs of my beverage before setting the empty glass on the table.

“We will discuss increasing Kelvan’s security in our meeting tomorrow,” Aderyn said. “For now, I should get Keera back to my home to rest.”

“Of course, although I still hope for a diplomatic solution,” the queen agreed, worry working its way back into her voice, a crease furrowing between her brows.

Aderyn bowed her head, rapping her knuckles to her brow in respect, before leading me off the balcony and back into the palace.

“I hope you don’t mind me refusing the queen’s invitation to stay on your behalf,” she said once we were halfway down the stairs. “You seemed… overwhelmed.”

I nodded. “I don’t want to be an imposition to you and Neven though.”

“You needn’t worry. I’ll barely be home this week as I supervise security arrangements for the festival next week, and Neven could use the company. ”

I thanked her for her hospitality, hoping they would not regret opening their home to me.

The following week was a mix of bliss and terror. I ate more than I had in memory, feeling strength seep into my wasted muscles after only a few days. As Aderyn left early each morning and returned late each night, Neven put me to work helping him with simple tasks in the room at the back of his house that served as a workshop. I watched him weave the most incredible textiles I could imagine, draping them into fashions I couldn’t even conceive of as I fetched and carried.

He was easy and talkative, and his tendency for conversation made me wary he would pull a secret from me unbidden. Every time he asked me about myself, I deflected, asking him something about his work and setting him off on a cheery tangent for the next hour.

The crowded nature of the city also set me ill at ease. My heart raced at the proximity of strangers every time I stepped onto the street, and sweat collected at the small of my back beyond what I would expect from the dry heat. At first, I only ventured out into the chaos of the city to visit Daiti, who was indeed stabled a few blocks away.

The first time Aderyn took me to see him, the horse master sighed in relief.

“Thank the sands you’re here. Could you calm him? I’ve barely been able to muck his stall without him trying to smash in my skull with those devilish hooves of his.”

I frowned, approaching the stall. Daiti eagerly stuck his head over the gate, snuffling against my clothing and hair, although if to check my identity or find any hidden snacks, I couldn’t be sure.

Aderyn chuckled. “You seem to have a well-trained warhorse. He won’t respond to anybody but you.”

I frowned as the stablemaster approached, causing Daiti to stamp and snort at him in displeasure. If Daiti was really this distrusting of strangers, it was a wonder I had been able to snag him from the enclosure so easily.

For now, I just nodded and continued to visit Daiti every day, bringing him samples of the strange fruit that Neven and Aderyn fed me. I myself ate so much of it that I became sick, but it didn’t stop me from consuming enough that my stomach bulged after every meal. After all, I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to stay here where food was plentiful. The truth of my exile hung like an axe over my head.

With the frequent walks through the city streets and my growing camaraderie with Neven, it became easier to be around people. I no longer started every time a shoulder brushed mine in the street, and I looked forward to dinner with Neven and Aderyn when she returned home.

Each night, as it grew later, the couple would shoot each other teasing looks, Aderyn’s hand drifting to Neven’s knee where he sat cross-legged on his cushion. Her hand drifted higher as he said something that made her laugh. I would look away with an odd pang in my chest.

I would excuse myself to go to bed in the small guest room at the back of the house, stealing myself for my least favorite part of my new routine. Lying on the impossibly soft bed, covered in a blanket with the texture of cloud, a weight landed on my chest.

Through the walls, I could hear giggling from Aderyn and Neven’s bedroom, followed by a sharp, feminine gasp. Staring up at the ceiling, it seemed as though the rocky weight of the mountain above pressed down on me. From the couple next door enjoying each other’s bodies to the crush of people living in every corner of this city, I was surrounded by humans. It was enough to feel claustrophobic, overwhelmed in the current of life around me.

But the worst part was not the number of people after so long in isolation. It was that it didn’t seem enough to stem the loneliness that had taken hold inside my chest— as if watching friends and lovers after so long without made me more acutely aware of what I didn’t have.

I didn’t sleep the first night, and the second night, when my breath came in pants and gasps from the ache beneath my ribs, I sprang from the bed. Grabbing a pillow, I crept from the room and out of the house. With the stacked stone design of the building, it was easy work to climb to the roof, which was flat on top, serving as a step to the next level of the city.

There, I laid on my back, propping my head up on the pilfered pillow and looking up at the velvety sky. Warm wind brushed against my skin like ethereal fingers, the touch of the desert welcome in its familiarity in this alien environment. Even here in the city, so far from my oasis, the stars looked the same, and my breathing came easier as I counted them. Somehow, they eased the growing tightness in my chest and sleep found me.

On the third night, I had a dream of a type I hadn’t had since I lived with Clan Padra, still learning what it meant to be a woman. In my sleep a man came to me and enveloped me in his arms, and instead of the feeling of too-tight skin that still sometimes overcame me at the touch of another, it felt warm and comforting. I breathed easily, but that changed when his lips met my neck and his hands drifted beneath my clothes. I tried to pull back and see his face, but the dream left me unable to move, helpless to his ministrations.

I woke gasping, just short of release, and disoriented. My hand drifted between my legs taking the place of my imaginary companion’s even as I wondered what had triggered such a dream. Perhaps it was living in close quarters with the intimacy Aderyn and Neven shared. Either way, the dream had felt shockingly real, and as I gasped through my hasty pleasure, I wished I could picture the face of the man who had inspired such feelings, even if he was imaginary. Then, I shoved the feelings away, feeling lonelier than I had before, and tried to go back to sleep.

Each morning, I made sure I was back inside by the time Aderyn rose. While she looked at me oddly in the morning after the first night I spent on the roof, she didn’t comment.

After being in Kelvadan for several days, Aderyn brought me to the palace once more. Infinitesimally less overwhelmed by the presence of others, I was better able to appreciate the impressive architecture of the massive structure. Located at the peak of the tiered city, multiple levels of terraces led up to a tower, many with vines of golden larrea flowers dripping from the railings. It gave the palace a lush feel despite its construction from the same grey stone as the rest of the city. At the very top, a spire pointed straight into the sky, reaching nearly the height of the mountain peak behind it.

“The queen has a few more questions for you now that she’s had time to decide how to proceed with the news you gave her,” Aderyn explained as we approached the main entrance and I could no longer see the top of the tower no matter how far back I craned my neck.

“I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be, but I’ll try.” I gripped my elbows, trying to hide my consternation at what kind of questions the queen might ask. I hadn’t been at Clan Katal’s encampment very long, and had seen very little outside of the supply tent I’d been kept in. I wasn’t keen on answering questions about where I had been before my capture either.

Today, Aderyn led me to a room instead of a terrace, and I shied away from being enclosed instead of in the open air. It reminded me of sleepless nights in Aderyn and Neven’s guest room. I swallowed it down.

The queen was already in the room when we arrived, sitting at a long table strewn with papers, a man at her right. He wore a close-cropped beard, and the sharpness of his gaze combined with the high arch of his nose gave him the appearance of a hawk. As we approached, she looked up and beckoned us in. “Aderyn, Keera, please sit. This is Oren.”

The man nodded, eyes darting over me appraisingly. I squared my shoulders.

“Keera, I need you to tell Oren everything you know about Clan Katal,” Queen Ginevra explained. “He is going to their encampment to gather information.”

I blinked. “A spy?”

“Hearing from you about Lord Alasdar’s plans to attack made me realize how blind I’ve been to the activities of the clans. I hadn’t even heard of the Viper you say is doing his bidding.” the queen explained, her expression one of frustration. “I suggested once that the clans appoint ambassadors to the city, but the lords did not appreciate that, preferring only to communicate with me when necessary.”

I exhaled through my nose in amusement, envisioning how the lords I had encountered would react to the suggestion of fussy diplomacy and diplomats. The clans of the desert negotiated through shows of strength and preferred to leave it that way.

The queen shot me a look, and I froze, worrying I had offended, but she raised a brow in amusement. “I see you understand the difficulty, but I’m not willing to continue operating blindly when the clans pose a threat to my people. That’s where Oren comes in. Maybe if we can gather more information about Lord Alasdar’s plans, we can stop this war before it even starts.”

I looked at Oren once more, this time really taking him in. He met my examination with a crooked smile.

“I used to ride with Clan Ratan,” he offered. “Hopefully I can convince my family that I want to join them once more, to infiltrate the riders at Clan Katal’s encampment.”

I nodded. It was better that somebody who had been among the clans before served as the spy instead of somebody born and raised in Kelvadan. Life here seemed so different, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to explain the mindset of the clans to one who had never experienced it, or at least well enough for them to be able to join without arousing suspicion. It had been a while since I had ridden among the clans myself, but I still remembered the company in the encampment feeling different than the crush of life in Kelvadan. Among the clans, fires and stewpots were communal, where here everybody ate only with their families in their own houses. When I rode with Clan Padra, you traded what you had for what you needed, with honor and strength as the only currencies. Here in the city, Aderyn had been trying to teach me the values of the different coins and how they were exchanged for goods. Apparently, they were useful for trading with the handful of merchants who traveled from beyond the mountains but never ventured out of the city to trade with the clans.

Queen Ginevra spoke, drawing my attention back to the present. “I know you told me that Clan Ratan was the latest to join Lord Alasdar. Do you know which other clans are at his encampment?”

I shook my head. The only reason I knew of Clan Ratan’s presence was that I had been present on the day of their arrival.

Oren and Queen Ginevra took turns asking me questions about the encampment, although I only had the answer to about one in ten. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Perhaps my lack of information would make them think that I was lying and turn me out into the desert. Maybe they would think that I was the spy.

Aderyn, who had remained quiet through the whole conversation, reached across the table and poured a glass of water from a pitcher resting between us. She offered it to me, and as I took it, she met my gaze, giving me a reassuring nod.

She didn’t smile, but the firmness of her gaze settled me. I didn’t know what I had done to earn her friendship, but I appreciated it all the same.

I continued answering their questions as best I could, racking my brain for any detail I may have forgotten in the chaos of my escape from Clan Katal. If I could help Kelvadan in any small way, after Aderyn and Neven and even the queen had shown me such kindness, then I would. I didn’t know if there were any other exiles sustained by the dream of Kelvadan, but I would not let the potential of life in the Great City be stolen from them.

Soon, the questions turned toward Lord Alasdar himself.

“Do you know who in the clan might be close to him? Close enough to be trusted with important information?” Oren asked.

I swallowed. “There was… a man.”

Queen Ginevra nodded encouragingly.

I searched my mind for the right words to describe the man in the mask. My memory stuck on the image of his strong silhouette as he led the riders in saber drills, but that felt like the wrong information to volunteer.

“He rides a black horse,” I started instead, “and he wears a strange mask. I think he oversees training the riders.”

“The Viper you mentioned? Do you know his name?” Queen Ginevra asked.

I shook my head. “Lord Alasdar only called him the Viper.”

“This mask, does he wear it all the time?”

I nodded. I had first encountered him without it, but I had come upon him while he was sleeping. He had put it on almost immediately, and the fact that I had seen his face was something I was strangely hesitant to admit. The strange intimacy of meeting his silver eyes in the moonlight felt like a private moment, and I was loathe to recount it to anybody else.

“If he is in charge of the riders, this Viper might be a good place to start,” Oren observed, running a hand over his dark, close-cropped beard.

“There’s another rider as well,” I spoke up. “Her name is Izumi. I don’t know much about her”—I hesitated, unsure what I meant to say, but envisioning her feeding me every day—“but she is not unkind.”

“Perhaps she might be helpful,” the queen said.

They continued to ask questions until my head spun and my voice nearly gave out. When they were finally finished though, the queen clasped my hand in both of hers and gave me a warm smile with a sincere “thank you”.

I found myself smiling at her kindness. A lord could demand answers without offering any gratitude, but her acknowledgment warmed me. A spark of happiness ran through me at the thought that the desert had spared my life so I could help save the inhabitants of this city. I only hoped that the help I could offer would be enough.

I woke up on my eighth day in Kelvadan to anticipation in the air. The excitement came in the form of chattering and music on every corner. While the residents of the city never shied away from color, today every person seemed to wear their brightest attire and every piece of jewelry they owned. The effect was as enamoring as it was dizzying as I wove my way down the block on my way back from a visit with Daiti. His presence calmed me as I worried about Oren, hoping that my warning would be enough to help Kelvadan withstand the clans. I wished I could help more but held myself in check for fear of revealing too much about my past.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t get home in time for us to dress you for the festival,” Neven worried as I pushed my way into the relative quiet of their residence. I blinked at the sight of Aderyn draped in pale-blue silk. A golden collar fastened the dress around her neck, the folds dripping like water down her torso to a golden belt gathering the fabric to her waist. Her arms and back were left completely bare, showing off more thick stripes of black ink tracing down her spine and down from her shoulders to the back of her hands. Even her eyes had been outlined in thick black kohl, making them stand out dramatically in her pale face.

“You look incredible,” I complimented, as Neven retrieved a pile of purple silk from the couch I had woken on a week ago.

“Neven’s textiles make me feel incredible, even though they aren’t practical to wear during daily training or patrols,” she admitted.

“And sands do you look beautiful in them, even if you hide the way they drape by strapping on a dozen weapons.”

Aderyn patted the handle of the curved dagger at her waist with a smile. “I know for a fact you find the number of weapons I carry attractive.”

I coughed behind my hand, and Neven peeled his gaze away from Aderyn to look at me. He shook out the fabric in his hands, and my eyes widened at what he had picked for me to wear to the festival.

He and Aderyn spent the next several minutes wrapping me in one long continuous strip of cloth, as my outfit turned out to be. I watched curiously as Neven affixed the end at my hip with a long silver pin, decorated with the emblem of a rearing horse, wondering at the style.

“I practice the sacred weaving techniques of our people, making the fabrics of Kelvadan the finest most travelers have ever seen,” Neven explained in response to my curious expression. “Sometimes it seems a shame to cut and sew something I consider a piece of art in and of itself, so I’ve designed many ways to wear the swathes of fabric as I create them. You have to let the fabric tell you what it wants to be.”

I nodded my understanding, awestruck by the way the cloth dripped over my body disguising the sharp hipbones and ribs that were already softening after a week in Kelvadan. The amethyst color brought out the golden undertones in my light brown skin. Once I was dressed, I sat still while Aderyn braided a matching purple scarf into my hair, using the end of the strip to tie it in place.

“Now you’re ready to dance and drink too much laka ,” she proclaimed proudly as I laced up a pair of sandals, slightly too tight as they were borrowed from Aderyn. While she certainly outweighed me in muscle, I was taller, and my feet were larger .

“What exactly is the purpose of the festival?” I asked as we left and joined the chaos of citizens making revelry in the street, a steady flow climbing the streets up toward the palace.

“Purpose? Does one need a purpose for a party?” Neven asked with a smile.

Aderyn elbowed him, but he didn’t flinch, indicating she hadn’t put her significant muscle behind the action. “It’s the yearly celebration of the anniversary of Kelvadan’s building.”

“How was a city like this built? I would think it took years.” I looked up at the buildings each set into the mountainside like jewels in the hilt of a sword, the road up through the city weaving back and forth as it ascended toward the spire of the palace at the precipice.

Neven’s eyes twinkled in excitement. “We wouldn’t want to tell you and spoil everything. The queen recites the story of Kelvadan’s founding at the palace’s celebration every year, and she tells it better than anybody.”

My curiosity piqued, I looked to Aderyn, but neither of them said any more on the matter. When we reached the palace, the general atmosphere of revelry was at its peak. The gates to the front courtyard were thrown open, partygoers milling about the large stone space as they joked and laughed. Aderyn led us through the crowds, past the horseback statue that served as the centerpiece. I glanced up at his face again, my eyes inexorably drawn to his strong jaw and quirked brow. He had been decorated for the festival, a crown of golden larrea flowers woven around his head and draped over his horse’s neck.

At a table near the wall of the palace, Neven fetched us drinks. He handed me a mug and I sniffed curiously. Something floral and spicy met my nose, the liquid a pale yellow, almost completely clear.

“The queen always breaks out the good laka for the festival every year, so enjoy Kelvadan’s finest while you can,” Neven urged.

Taking a sip, it coated my tongue and warmed my belly in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable despite the balminess of the night. The liquid was nutty and bitter, but not in an unpleasant way. I remembered nights of adults drinking laka and laughing in my clan, but I had been too young to partake and had never tried it before.

Aderyn and Neven milled through the crowd with me at their elbow as I nursed my drink. Nearly everybody seemed to recognize them, and I found myself introduced to more people than I had even imagined lived in the city. I nodded and smiled at each of them, trying to store names in my already overcrowded brain and failing miserably. Just as I was about to give up on the endeavor altogether, a hush fell over the crowd.

I followed their collective gazes to the palace doors, which swung open to reveal a shimmering figure. Queen Ginevra stepped forward to stand at the top of the handful of steps leading up to the doors. I hadn’t realized it when we met before, but she was short enough that even elevated a few steps, her head didn’t come much higher than the taller men in the crowd. Still, with the braziers on either side of the door flanking her, firelight shimmering off her silks until she looked like a statue of molten gold, she captured everybody’s attention in an iron grip.

She raised her arms, and the whispering hush turned to total silence, as if everybody held their breath in anticipation of her words.

“Nearly two hundred years ago, something completely ordinary and yet utterly miraculous happened,” the queen started. “Two people fell in love.”

My brows rose, and I leaned forward as if I could get closer to the queen’s words.

“Kelvar was a great rider of Clan Katal, blessed with the desert’s magic beyond what many had seen before. Enemies fell before him like grain before a scythe, and many came to fear his clan. The lord of Clan Katal rejoiced in the power it gave him, sending Kelvar to attack Clan Padra and steal away the lord’s daughter, for he coveted many of their riches.

“Kelvar did as his lord asked, and stole away the lord’s daughter, Alyx, in the dead of night. On the ride back to Clan Katal, Kelvar’s mount stepped into a fox hole and injured his leg. Kelvar was so bonded to his loyal mount that he refused to end its life. Seeing this, Alyx, who was blessed by the desert in her own way with a gift for healing, tended to the horse. During their delay, they came to know each other better, and one of the greatest bonds ever known to the Ballan Desert was born.

“When they returned to Clan Katal, Kelvar told his lord that he refused to ransom Alyx back to her father and planned to marry her instead. Alyx sent word to her father as well, but both lords refused them, threatening the couple with exile if they went through with the wedding.

“Kelvar grew full of rage that the warring ways of the clans would get in the way of love, a power greater than all of them. He called upon the magic of the desert for a feat greater than any that had been seen before. At the base of the mountains where the clans had camped, the desert reshaped herself at his command. All the clans spread across the sands to the sea felt the ground shake as a city carved itself into the side of the mountain, a safe place for Kelvar and Alyx to make a life together.

“He declared the city would be a safe place for members of any clan to come together without war or violence. It was a new beginning for the clans of the Ballan Desert. On that day, my grandfather, Kelvar, became the first king of this city, which was named in his honor.”

The queen flung out an arm, gesturing to the statue in the middle of the square. Looking now, I saw the same determined set of her jaw as the horseman, Kelvar, wore.

“Tonight, we celebrate not only Kelvar and Alyx, my grandparents, but what this haven they built stands for. It was carved with the magic of the desert in the name of their bond. So let us celebrate the gifts Kelvadan represents: peace, magic, and the greatest of all, love.”

The crowd roared and stamped in approval, glasses lifted in the air before all drank deeply in agreement. I myself drained the remaining contents of my glass, the warmth of the alcohol drowning out the sudden stinging behind my eyes.

At a wave from the queen, musicians I hadn’t noticed before at the side of the square began playing. The noise of pounding drums, overcut by a cheerful melody from a wooden flute, filled the air. If I thought the atmosphere had been celebratory before, it was nothing compared to the joy in the air as people began to dance. Neven and Aderyn quickly drifted away, her hands thrown in the air as she moved to the music. Neven’s gaze seemed glued to her, his hands drifting to her waist.

The beat of the drums filled my blood as I accepted another cup of laka, and I found myself swaying along to the music as I watched the rhythmic movements of the sea of dancers. The sun had set, and colored lanterns and flickering braziers lit the courtyard, giving the whole place a dreamlike atmosphere.

As I finished my second glass of laka , a hand landed on my elbow. I didn’t start like I might have, the atmosphere and the alcohol making my body molten and pliant. Looking to see who asked for my attention, I found the smiling face of a man Aderyn had introduced me to earlier. My brain was too fuzzy to call forth a name, but I remember a joke he told making me laugh.

“It’s not a true festival if you don’t dance just a little,” he commented, talking loudly to be heard over the increasing volume of the music.

“I don’t know how,” I nearly shouted back.

He grinned. “Neither do I, but that’s not really the point.”

I found myself smiling and nodding back, letting him take my empty cup to set on a nearby ledge before leading me toward the center of the courtyard, near the statue where the dancing was most lively.

Following the lead of the figures around me, I started swaying gently to the beat. The man moved with me, and I found myself grinning, my heartrate quickening to pump in time to the drums. As we began dancing in earnest with no real finesse, I threw my arms up in the air, and a laugh bubbled up. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the feeling the queen’s tale had roused in me, but I felt more alive than I had in a while—since a strange man held my throat in his hand, pinning me with an intensity that turned me to fire.

As I twirled in delight, purple silk forming a swirl around me, my eyes caught on the imposing statue once more. My gaze met his sightless eyes, and something shifted—something that had lain dormant inside me since my exile and had only began to move again recently. My partner’s hand on my hip suddenly felt overwhelming once more as touch had been when I first arrived in the city. Instead of being carried away by the beat of the drums, they pushed in on me, more tightly than the thick stone walls of Aderyn’s home when I was alone in the dark.

I tripped over my feet in the too-small sandals, smooth silk rubbing against my skin like hot sand. My dance partner caught me by the elbow before I fell, but I jerked away stumbling once more. He frowned, but his expression was one of concern .

“Too much laka ?” he shouted over the crowd. “Let’s find somewhere for you to sit down.”

I nodded, not sure if it was the alcohol or something else entirely making me feel as if I were about to burst out of my skin. The man cut a swath through the crowd, but the dancers were densely packed, and the going was slow. Bodies bumped and jostled me, and I flinched away from each touch as if it burned. The edge of the courtyard where I spied a bench seemed miles away, and even there I would be surrounded by this constant noise.

I couldn’t wait for my partner to edge through politely anymore, striking out on my own as shoved through the crowd. I needed to get out. Now.

Unsure how it happened, I broke free of the dancing horde and stumbled toward the open front door of the palace. Guards flanked it, shouting at me that guests must stay in the courtyard, but the hallway called my name as there were no revelers within.

Too-small sandals pinched my feet as they smacked against the stone floor of the palace hallway as I ran deeper. I had only made it twenty yards before I tripped and fell to my knees with tooth-jarring force. The sudden pain in my shins and palms almost ripped me from my fugue, but it was not enough.

My vision narrowed, and at first, I thought the guards shouting after me stopped, but as they barreled down on me, I realized my hearing had disappeared. Instead, I felt the vibrations from stomping feet through the stone beneath me, and the air whispered over my skin like a physical touch.

The heartbeats of hundreds of people echoed in my head, just as loudly as the shuffle of a Fennec fox burrowing in the sand miles away. My surroundings fell away, and the sensations in my mind grew until I was sure my skull would explode, if I even still had a physical form.

A blast of scouring wind and a piercing scream brought me back to myself with a snap. I was on my knees, in the palace hallway, and the screaming came from me. The guards who had chased me lay on the floor, as if knocked over by a sudden earthquake. Everything was preternaturally dark and quiet as the wind stopped, having extinguished all the lanterns hanging from sconces on the walls. The only light came from the braziers outside the distant door, barely penetrating the shadows.

As I blinked, trying to clear my head, the guards stared at me. I swallowed, my throat raw. A shuffling broke the stillness as a figure approached from the still open door.

Panic gripped me, threatening to paralyze me, but I forced myself to move. I looked up to find the queen staring down at me, eyes dark in the shadow, something unreadable on her face.