The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand

by Siobhan Muir

  “No. Just want to be prepared.”

  He yawned. “Like the Boy Scouts?”

  “How do you know about Boy Scouts?”

  “I told you. I’ve visited most of the worlds.” He closed his eyes again.

  Iliana shook her head and picked her way through the sleeping bodies of her companions toward the windswept sands outside. The desert sat quiet except for the occasional breeze plucking at her clothes. The temperature had dropped with the sun’s departure and she shivered a little as she settled into the crest of a dune.

  Her mind turned to the events changing her solo trip across White Sands into a group trip across the Karobis Desert. Aristotle told her they’d be in a place called Sandur in another day, and in another place called Ros Torach two days after that. Ros Torach apparently perched on the coast of the continent in the country of Torhaine. From there, the group would go their separate ways.

  Which leaves me where, exactly? She had no idea what she’d do, and she hadn’t shared her concerns with her reluctant companions. Not that she could tell them she didn’t belong to this world. Yeah, that would go over well. She wanted to get back to her life and the filming she’d agreed to do in Australia. She didn’t know how she’d gotten here, but she understood this place had no relation to her own world. Brandon Crowe was simply Brandon Crowe, not Taggart Crowe playing some sort of strange game.

  Aristotle’s words came back to her. You can’t come to a new dimension unless the current version of you does not exist. Maybe Brandon was the local version of Taggart.

  She sighed and brought her knees up to her chest as she nibbled on some dried fruit. My brain hurts. They hadn’t spoken much since leaving the first oasis ahead of the army. She didn’t blame Brandon. She hadn’t been inclined toward friendliness, either. She wasn’t normally such a bitch, but between being disoriented and scared, she’d reacted badly.

  Not that he’d take my apology even if I gave it. Especially once she realized he’d been telling the truth about his name. Can’t say the same, can I? Who was she, really? Was she Ivory, the actress who had twenty Hollywood films under her belt, or was she Iliana, an adventurer across the Karobis Desert? Both or neither? At this point it didn’t matter. She just had to follow Aristotle’s lead and get everyone out of Knalland.

  The sounds of sifting sand overrode the wind and Brandon Crowe appeared at her side like a bearded shadow. He stared east, back toward the threat of the Knalish Army encroached on their encampment. Hopefully not tonight. They gotta sleep some time, right? She didn’t acknowledge him beyond a short glance. To be brutally honest, she didn’t feel like having another confrontation. The men had left her alone and she offered them the same consideration. She dropped her gaze to the palms of the oasis waving in the desert breeze.

  “How long until the next stop?” Brandon’s voice held no inflection.

  “A day and a half.” Iliana glanced up at him, but away again when he refused to meet her gaze. “We'll stop in Sandur for supplies and rest. Then we leave for Ros Torach.”

  He nodded and settled himself in the sand beside her. Another silence ensued and she wondered why he’d chosen today to join her.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  He shook his head. “I woke when I heard you leave the oasis.”

  She grimaced. “Worried I was skipping out on you?”

  He didn’t react. “I did until I saw your gear on your horse still tied to the tree.”

  She nodded. “Hard to travel across the desert without a horse.”

  “Camels are better.”

  “But they smell and sound worse.”

  Brandon barked a surprised laugh. “Yes.”

  “I’m very sorry I reacted badly when I first met you, Mr. Crowe.” Iliana took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t make her eat her words. “I didn’t understand the situation and I was caught completely unaware.” She sighed. “And I thought you were someone else.”

  He snorted. “That makes two of us.”

  “Yeah.” She held out her hand to him. “Let me properly introduce myself. My name’s Iliana Rory.”

  He stared at her for several heartbeats, his expression still closed. Slowly he reached out and grasped her forearm, allowing her to grasp his.

  “Well met, Mistress Rory. I’m called Brandon Crowe.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Crowe.”

  “You may call me Brandon.” He shrugged. “Mr. Crowe sounds like a respectable business man, and I’m certainly not that.”

  She raised her brows. “What exactly do you do for a living? What’s your profession?”

  He turned his head to look at her with a surprised expression. “Is this the beginning of a friendly conversation?”

  “Would’ve had one earlier with you if you’d deigned to talk to me.”

  He grunted and nodded. “True enough, I suppose. As to your question, I don't think I have a profession. Maybe adventurer, or swordfighter, or even treasure hunter.”

  “What about actor?” She had to be sure he wasn’t Taggart.

  “Me?” He grinned and shook his head. “No, I’ve never had much interest in plays and I’ve never been on stage myself. Besides, actors are often weak, cowardly, and spoiled people who don’t know how to take care of themselves in the real world.” He shrugged. “And you, Iliana, what do you do, since you have striven to convince me you’re not Kyra?”

  “I’m an actress.” She scowled as she rose. Good to know his opinion of my profession.

  He laughed. “No, be serious.”

  “I am serious.” She strode down the dune, the sand giving way before her strides.

  “No, wait.” Brandon lurched to his feet and skidded after her. She’d almost reached the swale when he grabbed her arm. When she swung toward him with her free fist, he released her.

  “I’m sorry. I meant nothing personally to you. I didn’t know you were an actress.” He held up both hands in surrender. “Please, forgive me. Come, sit down and talk with me a while longer. I really didn't mean to insult you. Please.”

  Iliana studied him for sincerity under the light of a blue moon above them. Its light made the sand look green. If I didn’t believe I’d made it to another world, that should clinch it. She would’ve liked to smack him for the remarks about her profession, but they’d hit too close to home. Too many actors started out as nice people then became jaded, paranoid, and selfish. The number of sycophantic handlers around them didn’t help. She settled into the sand again without a word and he sat beside her, still looking at her.

  “You’re an actress.”

  “Yep.”

  “Really?”

  “Really and truly.”

  “But you’re not Kyra.”

  “No, not even in my day job. At least, not yet.” Not until the day after tomorrow if I counted the sunsets right.

  Brandon narrowed his eyes. “If you're an actress, what are you doing out here in the Karobis?”

  “I have no idea.” She glanced up at the blue moon. Wow, the song wouldn’t be so poignant here. “I didn’t start out here. I was somewhere distinctly different a few days ago.”

  “In the oasis with Kyra.”

  “Yes. No.” She shook her head. “No, I’d never been there before the moment I met you. I really have no idea where I am other than what you’ve told me. Before three days ago, I’d never heard of the Karobis or Knalland.” She grabbed some green-tinted sand and let it sift through her fingers. “But now I’m the leader of an expedition across the Karobis, just ahead of the Knalish Army.” Iliana sighed again. “I don’t know how I got here. The day after tomorrow, I'm supposed to fly to Australia to begin acting with a man who looks just like you.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Like me?”

  “The spittin’ image. His name is Taggart Crowe, and he’s a famous actor.”

  “He even has my name? Is he well liked?”

  “What do you care? Actors are weak, cowardly, spoiled people, remember?”

  Brando
n dipped his chin. “You seem to be trying to change my mind. So change it.”

  She snorted, but shrugged. “Other actors say he’s an arrogant bastard, but the public loves him and so do the directors, because he’s apparently very focused when he’s working. I’ve never actually met him, so I don't have my own opinion.”

  “And what about you? What do people say about you?”

  She turned her head to look at him squarely as some of the film reviews flashed through her memory. A few of them hadn’t been complimentary. She brushed her hands of sand.

  “I think they say I’m average. I've heard no major complaints and I haven’t received incredible accolades. But I’m good enough to have been offered parts in several major film projects. Some of them as the lead.”

  “What are ‘films’?” Brandon frowned.

  Iliana paused, trying to figure out if he teased, but his expression never cracked. Which could be a testament to his skill. But the more she saw of Brandon, the more she believed he couldn’t be Taggart.

  “Film is another word for moving pictures with dialog and music.” She waited for his expression to show comprehension, but it never arrived. Good thing I’m not holding my breath. “None of this is ringing a bell?”

  “No, unless you mean a play where the actors become characters before an audience.” He glanced out at the oasis. “I saw one once in a little town called Keel. The actors were pretty good and they gave a good show, but it seemed like a rougher life than mine.”

  “It’s exactly like a play, except the actors aren’t in front of you, they’re recorded on film, a thin plastic, and replayed for people all over the world.”

  “So, people no longer sit in front of the actors, but watch them from afar where you’re from? That doesn’t seem possible.”

  “It's a relatively new technology. Only about a hundred years old.”

  “Strange that I’ve never heard of it, this ‘technology.’” He grabbed his own fistful of sand.

  You have no idea.

  “Were you very renowned as an actor?”

  She nodded with a half smile curling her lips. “I was pretty well recognized as Ivory.”

  Brandon frowned and she snorted. “Ivory’s my stage name, combining my first and middle initials with Rory.” She laughed and held up her hands. Her skin had cracked from the hard travel and her nails had chipped. “I'm definitely not her now. For once, the adventure is real and dangerous. My agent would have a fit if he knew I was actually doing my own stunts and having to fight for my life. Not that we have had to do that yet, but I don’t think the Knalish Army is going to be very forgiving of me for helping you.”

  “No, they’ll run you through if they catch you. If they catch all of us.” He returned his gaze to the sands east of them. “Are you certain you're not Kyra? You speak just like her and—”

  “Brandon, Kyram is dead. You saw him yourself.” Iliana unwrapped the silk from around her face. “Does this look like the person you remember?”

  Brandon shook his head. “Kyra never removed the mask.”

  “And you didn’t think that was weird?”

  He shrugged. “I assumed it was her culture.”

  “His. He was a man while I’m a woman. A real woman. Even my breasts are natural.” Her smirk faded at his frown of confusion. “Never mind. I’m not from here. Where I’m from the world has gotten into a big hurry for everything. Transportation, fighting, entertainment, and communication. It’s not a better world, far from it, just a more convenient one.”

  “Is that why you came here?”

  “What? No. I don’t have any clue as to why I’m here. I don’t even know where ‘here’ is.” She held up her hand before he reiterated their location in the Karobis desert. “I mean I don’t know where the Karobis is in relationship to where I thought I was.” She looked up at the blue moon. “Home seems pretty far from here. Most of the people I know don't communicate with each other in person very often. Your world still communicates face-to-face I bet.” She gave a crooked smile. “Unless someone stabs you in the back.”

  “That happens more often than you might believe.” Brandon grunted, but his head came up when a sound filtered through the air from the oasis.

  Screams and shouts erupted from the palms still swaying in the pre-dawn desert.

  “Holy shit. What’s that?” Iliana scrambled to her knees as she peered into the moonlit sands.

  “Be quiet and stay low.” Brandon tugged at her shoulder. He pointed to the rise of the dune as figures fought each other against the lighter sky.

  She swallowed back bile. Dear God. Intellectually, she’d known the Knalish army pursued them, but it had always been just a vague threat after the first day. Now they swarmed over the dunes into the oasis with deadly intent.

  She froze, wondering where she could hide. The army had reached the oasis. How the hell are we gonna get away? Death had never been in her short range plans. She had obligations she needed to take care of when she got home.

  “Bloody hell, woman, get down.” Brandon jerked her into the sand next to him.

  “How did they catch up to us so quickly?” She pushed up to her hands and knees, ready to crawl somewhere, anywhere, safe.

  “I don't know. I thought we had a good lead, but no help for it now.” He looked up at the sky. “There’s still enough darkness we might be able to escape before they see us. Let’s go.”

  “But we have no supplies or horses or even a destination. If we go on foot, they'll have us.” Not to mention Aristotle was the only one who knew how to actually cross the rest of the desert.

  “We have to try, or stay here to die. This way we have a chance.”

  Brandon crouched and ran hunched over along the swale of the dune. Iliana muttered under her breath about friggin’ action heroes and scuttled after him. The sounds above them sickened her, but they managed to stay undetected by the horde as they crested the edge of a dune to the north. She took a moment to look back, but the swarm of dark fighters made her skin crawl and she shuffled over the backside of the dune until the oasis dropped out of sight.

  Brandon stopped a few feet from her and she tugged his arm. “What about Ahmad and the others? Are you just going to let them die?”

  He grimaced and his hands tightened into fists. “They will just have to take care of themselves. We can’t really do anything for them.”

  “But he’s your partner.”

  “And what can I do against an entire army? Better that I get away to come rescue him later.”

  “What if they just choose to kill him?”

  Brandon groaned and closed his eyes, his hands still in tight fists. “Dammit!” He sighed as he met her gaze, but finally shook his head. “All right, fine. We’ll go back for them.”

  They circled around the north side of the oasis, keeping one dune between them and the fighting. The last place she wanted to be was closer to the battle, but she couldn’t just leave the men to die without help.

  Like I can do anything.

  They rounded a dune and movement out of the corner of her eye made her duck. The whistle of a blade over her head made her shiver as she dove into a roll her stunt instructor would be proud of. She scrambled to her feet and jerked her blade free, hoping she had enough sword-fighting ability to stay alive. Thank God I have a little from my last film.

  “Brandon!”

  Iliana hoped he heard as she got her blade up in time to parry a jarring blow. The impact rattled through her arms and shoulder, but she twisted as she’d been taught and allowed some of the force to slide away. Unlike her practice bouts, this opponent was fast and intent on killing. She didn’t have time to wonder if she’d made a nice move. Never use too much motion. That gives too many openings. Keep your sword near you and you will have a better chance of surviving. The words of her instructor echoed through her head as her body flowed into motions she’d used before.

  I might not be a master, but I’ll be damned before I let him walk all ove
r me.

  Her opponent seemed to be laughing at her through a furious bout of blade work. At the last moment, he easily batted her sword aside and she knew she stood too exposed. In a last ditch effort to avoid being skewered, she kicked him directly in the balls. It caught him by surprise and he dropped with a grunt. Unfortunately, it overbalanced her and she fell into the sand on her back, but rolled again before he attacked her while down.

  The man had regained his feet as well, but he stood doubled-over, swaying. Just stay down, dammit. She didn’t want to kill him, just make him leave her alone. He jerked out a tiny knife and pulled his arm back, his dark eyes focused on her chest. She froze, not sure what to do.

  Before she could decide, a sharp twang ricocheted through the air and a crossbow bolt sprouted through the front of his jacket. The knife dropped from his relaxing fingers as he crumpled into the sand.

  “Oh, my god.”

  More motion caught her eyes and Brandon finished off another assailant before breaking into a run toward Ahmad with the horses. The mounted man still held the crossbow at the ready. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, but she couldn’t make her mind work. Aristotle...dead guy…army. None of the words made sense.

  Brandon launched at his bay horse as Iliana broke into a lumbering run, her mind still trying to process the image of the man dying in front of her. She didn’t look back, but the scene replayed no matter how she tried to get past it.

  “Come on, Iliana!” Brandon waved sharply, his face tight with fear.

  She nodded dumbly and scrambled up on Aristotle. The horse shifted into a trot as soon as she settled into the saddle. She almost bounced back off, but she tangled her fingers in his mane and held on.

  They’d gone some miles before she remembered she still held her sword. She fumbled with the sheath and almost couldn’t get it around the blade. Her eyes filled with tears as her frustration mounted, but at last the sword sank home.

  She chanced a look over her shoulder back the way they’d come, but the dunes had swallowed the oasis and the killing grounds. We gotta get safe. We gotta get away. She didn’t want to die in a foreign desert with no one to know where she’d gone. She didn’t want to kill anyone, either. The screams of the dying still haunted her memory and she closed her eyes, letting the horse carry her across the world.