In Thy Name

Chapter 9 - Promises

Three heads ducked topeer at Sareb from under the horse's belly. "Ophilos..." Teshem said.

"I'll go," Sareb repeated more firmly. "We'll both be leaving the desert."

The faces of the other two Gladiari were stony, staring at him intently. The burn on Frostarrow's face glistened in the firelight.

I hope that taught you not to mess with me. Otherwise this is going to be a very difficult trip.

"So, you'll come with us on your dracoraque?" Stormwind said, standing and stepping around the horse. Sareb also pushed himself to his feet, and nodded curtly.

"How much can she carry? Do you think she can carry our belongings?"

Sareb shrugged, thinking for the first time of the feasibility of the idea. "She can carry some. Not a lot."

Stormwind was silent a moment, a dark shape against the firelight. "If all three of us fly..."

"There's no way she can carry all three of us," Sareb said.

"I know," Stormwind said, with a smile that said, You just wait and see...

"They're shapechangers, ophilos," Teshem said from beside the packhorse, where he was unlashing the packs. "It runs in the Northern families."

Shapeshifters. Sareb remembered the shadows arrowing for the canyon, and shifted his eyes to Frostarrow. "So...that was you. The shadow that Djusra chased."

Frostarrow nodded, several quick movements of his head that Sareb couldn't help finding birdlike, now that he knew.

How long were you there? he wondered. Spying on me. Wretched carrionfly!

"If you two are done staring into each other's eyes," Stormwind said, hands on hips, "How about some help unpacking so that we can all get some rest." She returned Sareb's hard look. "Are you helping us or not?"

"I'm helping you travel," Sareb said; but when he noticed Teshem staggering tiredly with the heavy packs, he strode over to help him, not without his own uncertainty on his feet, or one last glare at Stormwind.

Once the packs and water canteens were piled by the fire, Teshem flopped on his back in the sand, and Sareb dropped gratefully to a seat beside him. Teshem rubbed at his eyes and groaned, "Just resting a moment. Don't let me fall a...slee..." His hand slid away from his eyes to drape gracefully, and insensibly, above his head.

Sareb considered whether to wake him. Teshem had hardly slept the night before, and would get no other chance to sleep tonight. He calculated how far they had traveled: some five to seven leagues from Castle Caran to the Thunderhead, and three or four more to where they were now, about ten leagues in all. Even if Teshem left right now, it was unlikely he would reach Castle Caran before dawn. In that case, Sareb thought, might as well let him rest a bit. He looked around for something to cover his friend against the chill night air, but all the blankets were stowed with the gear. So he unclipped the brooch from his capewrap and shrugged off the enfolding cloth, and spread that over Teshem instead. The spiral scar in Teshem's outflung palm caught his eye, and he drew Teshem's hand down so that it was no longer visible. Then he crouched close to the fire, hugging his knees.

The raised edges of the scar in his own hand caught on the sleeve of his shirt. It was in the shape of a coil, representing a snake, which meant the desert, freedom, the rock canyons, their shared past. The snake was the wisest of all animals, a secret few Gladiari knew. But Teshem was one of them. Even though he hadn't been born to it, he belonged to the desert. Belonged with Sareb—at least so he'd thought when they made the oath, the matching scars.