This evening I woke up well rested and relaxed. Still constipated but walking on sand without the paw shoes meant no more aching toes. The sand in the claw sheaths was a small price to pay. And each emptied waterskin lightened my load: By now, two-thirds were empty, and my food inventory had been reduced to a few stringy, bland roots. But I was savy for most of the humans had already used up all their water.

While the camels and I enjoyed walking in the sand, it was much harder for the others. Larina's hooves were smaller than my paws and she was probably twice my weight. You could tell by the amount of sand flying from her hooves and fetlocks with each step how much deeper she was sinking and how hard she was working. And it was even harder for the humans. They had to wear their heavy boots on the hot sand, boots made for the colder climate of the Republic. And their shorter legs made them work harder. It was the worst for Brother Johens, for the leather of his left boot had cracked in the heat. The hot sand in his shoe had abraded his foot, even scaling the skin near the entrance. Now his foot was swollen and would not even fit into the shoe.

My load was so light that I volunteered to carry him. He apologised a hundred times but finally mounted on my back. Seeing this, Brother Tsuwangli helped Brother Rene on one camel and sat on the other. The stallion was also able to carry the prince again. As the guard was the last man walking, Larina offered him a ride on her back.

The sand was still hot when we set off. But as in the previous nights, the temperature dropped quickly. And with no humans to slow us down, we moved almost twice as fast. The exercise kept me warm, but soon our riders were shivering. After the midnight break, the humans walked until they were warm enough to ride again, now wrapped in all the blankets we had.

Towards dawn, just after moonrise, I thought I saw a seagull. I called out to Brother Tsuwangli, "Bird from sea, white" and pointed to the bird in the distance. Everyone stood up and tried to find the moving speck in the dawning sky. Even though he could not make it out, Brother Tsuwangli agreed that it could be a seagull, as we should be reaching a seashore. But he had not expected us to arrive there already this morning.

The thought of the sea and a morning swim gave me a second wind and I took the lead. My enthusiasm must have spread because Larina picked up the pace and the camels followed. And of course, the stallion was not to be outdone. Soon the salty smell was unmistakable and there were again occasional patches of vegetation. On the top of the next dune, I saw waves reflecting the dawning sky, another two or three dunes ahead.

Just after sunrise, we descended the last dune to an endless beach stretching as far as the eye could see. The sand was hard closer to the swash, it felt like a rock after all the walking on shifting sands. Our riders dismounted to enjoy the warm morning sun and the wet beach on their feet. We unloaded and removed our clothes and then Larina, the stallion and I raced along the surf line, splashing our legs and underbellies as if we had not walked all night. Then I waded further into the surf with Larina to wash the sand out of my fur. Finally, I swam, claws out, to get the sand out of my claw sheaths. I swam and dived until I was completely exhausted, and with my last strength, I went back to the shade that the others had already set up. It faced the sea, and its main function was to stop the sand-carrying wind, which grew stronger as the sun rose and the heat built up. But by then I was fast asleep.

* * *

Brother Tsuwangli let us sleep almost until midnight. Today would be a long leg to Lomaho and he wanted to reach it before nightfall. Still, Larina and I had to brush the salt out of our fur before we could leave.

No longer slowed down by the two-leggers, and with no inclines on the beach, we made good progress. The camels didn't like the water and stayed further up in the loose sand, but Larina, the stallion and I preferred the hard sand close to the swash with the occasional splash from a very long wave. In some places, the breaking waves were sparkling with luminescent algae. Mostly further out, where the bigger waves broke first. So we had a starry sky above us and the sparkling sea to our left.

Checking our guiding constellation from time to time, I saw that we were bending further and further to the south. As the stars began to fade, the patches of grass on the top of the dunes became a dense carpet and the first larger bushes appeared.

We took a long breakfast break at sunrise. The stallion, the camels and Larina went to fetch some grass to complement the grain diet of the last few days. I, too, reluctantly chewed on the dry, bland, salty and wooden stalks. No thanks, I would rather finish the last of my shrivelled and stringy vegetables.

Further on, trees announced the end of the desert. The sky changed too, clouds were swelling further on. Curious, I climbed the dune. It was not a dune but a sandy cliff and there were trees everywhere. But it was a dense jungle, impenetrable dense trees, vines and undergrowth. So I came back down and caught up with the others.

By midday, we reached civilisation again, a small village of seven houses and even more fishing boats and some fields on the banks of a small river. They had an irrigation system that brought fresh water into the village. Not too fresh, but after days of horrible water from the waterskins, it tasted like a clear mountain spring.

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Brother Tsuwangli talked a lot with the village elders. And I played a little with the children, learning a few phrases.

We did not stay too long, we still wanted to reach Lomaho, which the elders said was half a day away. They rowed us across the river because there were crocodiles, thank you, so no swimming in these rivers. Even with their biggest boat, Larina was almost too heavy.

From here to Lomaho we would have to cross the Loma River estuary, which meant jungle, swamps and rope bridges. So we left the camels because their pads could not stand wet ground. Well, and they could not cross rope bridges either. Squirrel-me was rather looking forward to the rope bridges but I was worried about how Larina and the stallion would manage them.

And we now had a clear path to follow, which was necessary in the dense jungle. There was little sunlight and water everywhere. The air was saturated with moisture and with every step I took, sweat ran down my sides. Larina had it even worse, with her larger body and without the benefit of a cooling tail. Even the prince walked his stallion.

The first rope bridge went better than feared. It consisted of two thick ropes bound together. They were almost as wide as my paw and the humans could walk normally. The bridge swayed and creaked more under Larina's weight, but she had no problems either. The stallion followed her.

On the other side, the afternoon rain began, just as Brother Tsuwangli had announced. Rain? It was a thunderous downpour. But it offered some cooling, further wetting our surroundings, if that was even possible. Soon our path resembled a small river. My faint memories of Earth made me worry about what kind of tropical diseases would thrive here.

The next bridge presented a greater, immediate challenge. It was just a big tree trunk without any support. No problem for the clawed squirrel-me, even slippery as it was after the downpour. I went first, using my claws and my dagger to scrape off the outer layers of moss and algae. Walking backwards, I helped the three clerics, the guard and Larina across the bridge. The prince led his stallion backwards, and I stayed close to his hind hooves to catch it if it should slip.

The next two bridges crossed streams small enough for us four-leggers to jump. But then came two raft bridges across larger rivers. These were a couple of logs tied together with a long rope attached to each end and a tree at each bank. You had to pull the raft to the other side. No problem, but it meant four crossings to get us all across. Larina and then the prince and his stallion were clearly the limit of what the raft could carry.

We were tired. But soon our path joined a road, alternating between planks, sand, mud, and even short stretches of cobblestones. This meant Lomaho was close. With the promise of a town tonight, we walked through two more downpours. And when the sky cleared, we could see through the trees the tall towers and gilded roofs of the Nuncipal's palace in the distance.

* * *

The last miles were some fields and wet grassland with grazing animals, perhaps water oxen. Above the town, on a huge monolith to the east, was the palace of the Nuncipal, which we had seen from a distance. It had more than ten gilded domes on white buildings. But the city below was green. As we got closer, we saw that the town wall was a living wall, woven of living vines. It was not very high, barely reaching the first floor of most buildings. Only around the gate was the wall made of stone. Squirrel-me approved of this living wall.

We reached the gates of Lomaho at sunset, the last to enter before the guards closed them. Brother Tsuwangli guessed that our late arrival would not quickly reach the Nuncipal's ears, as now was the time for their evensong.

It was obvious that someone like us had been expected, for the town guards were only mildly surprised by me. So the emissary had beaten us, and Mage Tarik was most likely here as well. And the town guards had a problem: they had orders to detain us. But dealing with clerics was something they preferred to leave to the Nuncipal's inquisitors, who were absent for their evensong. And starting a holy war by arresting clerics was above their pay grade. So they were happy when we suggested that they send a guard with us so that they could find us later.

We made the best of our guard, turning him into a tour guide with the promise of food and drink at an inn. The town was a feast for a squirrel, almost every building was a living house. There were usually four or more trees at the corners and vines, lianas and creepers were used for walls and privacy. If it were not so hot and humid, I could see myself living here, hopping from house to house.

The guard chose an inn for us, one of the few stone houses. We left our luggage there and followed him for a short tour of Lomaho. First the harbour and the impressive ships anchored in the bay. Then the ornate inner gate leading to the Nuncipal's palace. It was closed for the night, of course.

Although it was after sunset, it was still hot in the city, the humid air steaming between the houses. It was cooler inside our inn. The stone wall was closed to the outside, but there was only a curtain to the inside, so there was plenty of air in our rooms. More important were the four tables on the ground floor, lit by oil lamps and laden with food for our dinner. I did not eat the fish, but there was still enough rice, seaweed and many different kinds of chopped vines and their fruits to fill even my stomach. We were all exhausted and rushed through the delicious meal. Brother Tsuwangli was the last to keep the town guard's company and then sent him home.

Larina opted for a private stall in the inn's stable for the night, rather than try her luck on the stairs, as all sleeping rooms were upstairs. The building was made of white stone, but the stairs were wooden and made an alarming noise even under my weight, which was probably half of hers.

As I lay on the thin carpet in the room that I shared with the prince, I thought about our journey. Fourteen days to Lomaho, just as we had discussed at Krenburg, almost half an eternity ago. Surprisingly accurate, considering our rather erratic route. With that, I was fast asleep.