by Callie Kanno
Adesina began to understand. “That is why Basha needs L’iam.”
“Yes…”
She gave him a questioning glance, and he casually looked away. Adesina could tell that he was deliberately shielding his thoughts from her, and that made her suspicious.
“What is it?”
His expression was a picture of innocent confusion. “I do not know what you mean.”
She decided to try a different approach. “You said that this Dream was a vyuhava.”
“It could be,” reasoned Ravi, “if it plays a part in an important decision.”
“How do I know if it will?”
A smile briefly touched his lips. “You will know.”
Adesina blew out her breath in exasperation. “Is all of the Dream relevant to my decision, or only part of it? Should I have given more attention to a specific section?”
“Only time will tell.”
It seemed that so much had happened in the Dream, and it was difficult for Adesina to keep everything straight. The images were as vivid now as they had been in her Dream—the masterful weaving of vyala, the distant clamor of battle, the sacrifice of the Serraf, the betrayal of Kirin…
Those pieces of history were engraved on her heart.
She could feel the pain, the sorrow, the broken hope—all of it, as if it were her own.
How had L’avan learned to move on from such a dark past? The tales of Adesina’s people always portrayed him as a wise and gentle man, full of love and hope for the future.
Mar’sal approached Adesina and Ravi hesitantly, uncertain if he should interrupt their conversation. The young queen hitched the corners of her mouth upward and gestured him forward.
It was easy to tell that her smile was forced, but he accepted her invitation. “I brought you your breakfast cake, Adesina. Faryl and Than’os have been practicing altering herbs, and she made some sort of paste to spread on the top of the cake. It is actually quite delicious.”
Adesina’s smile became genuine. “Thank you, Mar’sal.”
The young man waited for her to bite into the lump of grain and dried meat before returning to the others. He watched her face, to see if she liked what she tasted.
The desert cakes were nutritious, but quite bland. The paste added a lively tang to the mixture, and it was a welcome change from the monotony of their daily diet.
Mar’sal could see that she was pleasantly surprised, and he grinned. “I will tell Faryl that you approve.”
The broke up camp with practiced efficiency, and they continued on their journey eastward. The terrain was still sandy, and the horses only kept up to speed due to the hoof covers that had been purchased in Jame. The covers prevented the hooves from sinking too far into the sand, which made walking easier for the horses.
After the travelers took their midday break, they came upon an unexpected ridge. They paused to survey the land ahead.
“Amazing,” breathed Mar’sal in wonder.
Adesina couldn’t help but agree.
The desert before them was a mass of elaborate dunes that stretched out for leagues. The valley had more wind than the higher ground, and the dunes were ever shifting as a result. Each dune was long and narrow, giving it a snake-like shape that moved as if it were living.
Kendan scowled at the sight. “Perhaps we should find a way to go around this valley.”
“Why?” asked Faryl, looking surprised.
“We do not know what is down there. For all we know, there are monsters underneath the sand and that it what gives it that appearance.”
Ravi slowly shook his head. “I do not sense living creatures—other than the usual ones, of course. The dunes hold nothing but sand. However, that does not mean that there is no danger in venturing among them.”
Adesina turned to the Tracker. “Maizah?”
Maizah simply pointed towards the valley.
The young queen gave a shrug. “Basha is travelling with a guide in that valley. It cannot hold too many perils.”
Kendan turned his scowl on her, and Adesina knew that he disapproved of her lack of caution.
She pointedly ignored him and gestured to the rest of the group. “Let us not waste time.”
She nudged Torith forward and the horse gingerly picked his way down the slope. Ravi was not bothered by the shifting sands underfoot, and he made it to the valley floor much sooner than the others.
The Rashad was inspecting the surrounding area when the others made it to the lower level.
“This would be an ideal location for an ambush,” he rumbled in dissatisfaction.
Both Kendan and Adesina nodded uneasily.
“It seems wisest to avoid this valley,” insisted Kendan.
Part of Adesina agreed, but there was a strange instinct tickling the back of her mind and urging her forward.
“No,” she responded after a pause. “We will keep going.”
Her former teacher brought his mount close to hers and spoke in a harsh whisper. “Do not be foolish, Adesina. I know that we do not always agree, but now is not the time to be headstrong. This area is a trap waiting to happen.”
She was startled by his vehement tone. “I am not making this choice simply to be contrary, Kendan.”
“Then, why?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. “I…do not know. Please, trust me to make this decision.”
He stared at her for several long moments before his expression softened. “Sometimes I forget that you have grown up so much. As my student, you never would have admitted uncertainty.”
Adesina gave a short laugh. “Yes, well, that was a long time ago. I have since learned that there is much I do not know.”
The travelers began riding again, into the maze of snake-like dunes.
“What do you do when you find yourself without an answer?” inquired Kendan, keeping his horse next to Adesina’s.
She gave a rueful smile. “I trust that there is someone who does.”
His face darkened slightly. “Do you mean some sort of deity? I know that the L’avan are religious people, but I never thought I would see you caught up in such nonsense.”
Adesina grinned. It had not been that long ago that she had felt the same way about the “superstitions” of the L’avan.
“It is true that the L’avan are quite religious, and I admit that I still have trouble understanding all of their philosophies. But…” She paused to collect her thoughts.
“But?” he prompted.
“I first had to understand the importance of believing in something greater than myself. That, to me, is the true lesson that I have learned from my people.”
Kendan considered her words for a while before nodding thoughtfully. “I can see the merit in that.”
An urgent motion from Maizah brought them up short.
She pointed first to the sky, where a hawk was circling above them, and then to the dunes to their left.
Adesina summoned a trickle of vyala to sense what was hidden among the sands. She held up a single finger and gestured to Ravi. He crept silently out of sight, and an expectant pause followed his disappearance.
He reappeared suddenly at their side. “There is a wounded man hiding there. He has an arrow in his shoulder.”
Adesina immediately dismounted and started forward, but Kendan caught her arm.
“Wait, he could be dangerous.”
She gave him a pointed look and shot off a few sparks of energy from the tips of her fingers to make a point. He let go of her arm, a mixture of amusement and admiration in his eyes.
Adesina slipped over the surface of the desert sand, followed closely by Ravi. As she came around the bend, she saw the figure of a man dressed in rough clothing the exact color of the sand around him. Crimson blossomed on his shoulder where the arrow protruded, and blood also stained his gloves.
A turban and scarf were wrapped around his head, hiding all of his features except for his dark eyes. They were like black, bottomless pools with pain a
nd apprehension rippling across the surface. When he saw Ravi by Adesina’s side, those emotions were joined by wonder.
Adesina moved slowly to avoid alarming him. She held out her hands to show she was not armed. “I will not harm you,” she said softly, and knelt by his side.
His body tensed as she drew near, but he made no other movement. Adesina began to hum quietly as she used her vyala to probe his injured shoulder. Ravi’s rich voice joined hers, harmonizing and creating a tune both soothing and mesmerizing.
Adesina knew that she would need more of her vyala to heal his wound, and she felt the familiar wave of fear at the thought.
I will help you, Ma’eve.
Ravi’s mind was like an anchor as she called forth the torrent of her power.
Adesina pulled out the arrow and sealed the wound with a flash of vyala. The stranger cried out in pain and raised a hand to press against his shoulder. When he realized the pain had vanished, he pulled off a glove to feel the healed skin.
“How did you do that?” he asked, bewildered.
He spoke with a thick accent, and the words rolled off his tongue like molten lava. The heated motion of his voice was strangely contrasted by the cool stillness of his eyes. Adesina was puzzled by all of the contradictions she saw in him.
“I am gifted,” she replied simply.
He unwrapped the scarf from around his face, revealing cinnamon brown skin and finely chiseled features. He was remarkably handsome and younger than she anticipated, perhaps thirty years old or so.
“You are not a Desert Dweller,” he stated, examining her strange coloring and glancing at her feline companion.
Adesina shook her head. “No, I am L’avan.”
He seemed to comprehend immediately. “Magic-users. I have never before seen one of your kind.”
Her brow furrowed. “How is it you have heard of us so far from out homeland?”
A small smile played at the corner of his shapely lips. “Down here the L’avan are no more than myths from exotic lands. However, this,” he pointed to his shoulder, “leaves no room for doubt.”
Ravi sat back on his haunches. “What is your name?”
The man’s eyes widened in shock. “You speak! How...?” His glance turned questioningly to Adesina.
She quickly corrected his assumption. “It is none of my doing. The Rashad are a race much older than the L’avan.”
Ravi ignored the young man’s astonishment and tried his question again. “This is Adesina and I am Ravi, her guardian. What is your name?”
“Savir,” he stammered, “Savir an Kavi nan Darshan ol Henka.”
“And how did you come to be wounded, Savir an Kavi nan Darshan ol Henka?”
He held up a hand. “Please, I am simply Savir to my friends. You have saved my life, and for that you have my eternal friendship.”
Ravi inclined his head. “Savir, then.”
The young man nodded, as if sealing a pact. Then he straightened his back and crossed his legs beneath him. “I was attacked by a group of Hanta on my way back from hunting. They stole my kill, and left me for dead.”
“Harsh actions,” murmured Ravi.
Savir gave a half shrug. “This is a harsh land. Food is scarce before the storms—all creatures go into hiding. Desert Dwellers take what they must, and the Hanta have no love for my people.”
A sharp cry from the hawk circling above them brought his eyes upward in alarm. “The storms are approaching. There is only just enough time to reach my village. Do you have shelter?”
Adesina and Ravi exchanged glances.
“No, we do not.”
Savir was amazed at their lack of planning. “How can you enter the desert when you know you cannot survive?”
An embarrassed flush colored Adesina’s cheeks. “We had hoped to reach our goal before the storms arrived.”
The Desert Dweller did not look convinced at the possibility. “Unless your goal was to travel a few days and then turn back, I do not see how you could have achieved it.”
There was a heavy pause.
Savir’s expression gentled. “Are you alone?”
“No, there are five others with us.”
His expression became decisive. “Very well. You shall be my guests during the storms. I can offer only food and shelter—a poor repayment for you saving my life.”
Adesina immediately shook her head. “No, Savir, it is not a poor repayment. You are saving our lives from the storms, and that puts us in your debt.”
He lowered his head in a gesture of humility. “It is nothing, truly.”
The hawk cried again from the skies above.
“Come,” said Savir. “We must travel quickly if we are to reach safety in time.”
Chapter Thirty-five: Two Forms
Kendan was not pleased with the turn of events, and he made that clear in his treatment of Savir.
“How do we know you will not simply lead us to our deaths and steal our supplies?”
Even knowing of the natural suspicion that came with being a Shimat, Adesina looked at her former instructor with surprise.
“Kendan!”
Savir looked deeply offended by the accusation, but he held his temper in check. “I have declared you to be my guests, and that is an action bound by honor. However, if you wish to stay here and brave the storms, I will not stop you.”
The handsome Desert Dweller stiffly turned to face Adesina and spoke with greater courtesy. “I will act as your scout and guide, if you will allow me the privilege.”
The young queen bowed her head. “Of course.”
Savir walked a few feet away from the group and crouched in the sand. His body began to shimmer like a mirage, and slowly changed form. When he became solid again, he was a beautiful black hawk with the same liquid eyes. He launched into the air with a few powerful strokes of his wings and joined the grey hawk circling above.
Adesina stared after him, dumbfounded.
“He is a shape-shifter,” exclaimed Mar’sal.
“How is that possible?” asked Kendan. “I have never heard of any human magic-users, other than the L’avan.”
Ravi furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “It is possible that the L’avan are not the only descendants of a race of Immortals.”
The two hawks circled the group of travelers, impatient to begin the journey.
“Well,” reasoned Adesina, “we can always ask questions later. For now, we should follow them to safety.”
Kendan’s expression was a storm cloud. “We know nothing about these people. He could be leading us into grave danger.”
Adesina felt a flash of impatience. “What would you suggest? The desert storms can last for weeks. Do you want to sit here and wait for the winds to strip the flesh off of our bones?”
It was clear that the former Shimat instructor had no response, and that made him flush with anger.
“Do as you will,” he snapped, and turned to mount his horse.
Adesina indicated that the others should do the same, and the hawks began flying southeast.
They traveled mostly in silence, but Adesina overheard a quiet conversation between Faryl and Than’os.
“Kendan is right. We do not know what dangers lie ahead,” said the former apothecary.
Than’os’s hushed reply was filled with confidence. “Adesina has my complete confidence. If she feels it is right to place our trust in this Desert Dweller, then I am certain it is the best thing to do.”
“She is still human,” Faryl pointed out. “She can still make mistakes.”
The grin on Than’os’s face was evident in his tone. “I never imagined otherwise.”
Adesina was glad to have the confidence of the L’avan, but it made her uneasy as well. It was a great responsibility to bear such trust, especially in perilous circumstances.
Savir led them on a steady path until nightfall, and then he landed and transformed back into his human form. The grey hawk settled onto his shoulder, and stared at each of the
m with fierce eyes.
“How do you do that?” Adesina asked in admiration.
Savir gave a mysterious smile. “It is the secret of the Henka. No other tribe bears such gifts.”
“Can it be learned?”
The hawk on his shoulder gave a series of chirps, and Savir chuckled. “She says that it can only be learned by those with the spirit for it. She says the spirits of the other Desert Dwellers are too weak for such an honor.”
Faryl gazed at the hawk with the appreciation of one who has studied birds. “You can understand her?”
“Of course,” Savir replied. “How could she teach me if I did not understand her?”
The older woman appeared uncertain how to respond.
The Desert Dweller settled down in the sand and folded his legs comfortably. “When a Henka child is two years old, they are taken to a sacred place in the desert where they are left alone for seven days.”
Mar’sal gaped at the idea. “How can they survive on their own?”
“They cannot,” admitted Savir. “That is the purpose. During the child’s time alone in that sacred place, a desert animal is drawn to their spirit and begins to care for them. A deep bond is formed, and the animal becomes a special sort of guardian. Much like you and Ravi,” he gestured to Adesina. “The spirit of the child and the spirit of the animal become linked—while one lives, so does the other. Over time, we Henka learn to transform into the same shape as our animals guardians.”
“Fascinating,” said Ravi. “How long has your tribe possessed this ability?”
Savir stared at the sky in concentration. “Let me see…”
The hawk chirped again.
“Ah, yes. The first was Tagira the Wanderer. She lived ten generations ago.”
Faryl was still studying the hawk at a respectful distance. “Can she understand us?”
“Yes,” answered the Henka. “When the bond is first established, the understanding of the animal guardian is limited—as is an infant’s. As the child grows, so does the mutual understanding between creatures.”
The desert cakes and water were passed around, and Savir accepted his with humble gratitude.
“Your gift of food and water is a sign of the purity of your spirit.”
Than’os looked surprised and slightly embarrassed by the praise. “It is nothing,” he stammered.