How long ago had Kiri passed through here? Garon crouched down by the worn stone signpost that marked the crossroads and tried to work it out. It had to have been more than a day ago. But this was the last place they would be trailing her. At the crossroads, she would have turned north; he and Riular would be heading west.

He looked down the road to the west. It seemed to go on forever. The evening star, bright and sharp, hung in the sky right above it. It ate at him, that Kiri was riding so fast to danger while he slogged on foot to seek the only help he could bring her. It was too bad that her horse hadn’t been there by that log, still tied up. It had been a foolish hope, but the last one he held before he was forced to let her go off on her own.

Garon looked back over his shoulder at the waystation. Every window was shining with light, and the sounds of the noisy chatter of the crowd inside, coupled with the snorting of their many horses, filled the twilight. He didn’t want to go in and join them. He’d never liked crowds. But it didn’t seem like a good idea to leave Riular alone there for long. The Eldan kept talking to people. He would not seem to follow Garon’s good example of being stand-offish. It would be better to come off as unsettling than to be suspected for what he really was.

Garon gathered up a handful of dirt and let it dribble through his fingers. It was getting really dark now. Maybe if he went in now he could eat and then go straight to sleep. He’d gotten used to sleeping with noise from living in Laed. That city was never quiet, especially down by the docks.

When he finally made himself go back into the waystation, Garon found that there had not been any need for concern. Riular was seated by the fire, a warm cup of tea cradled in his hand. A number of the merchants from the caravan were crowded around him, and no one seemed bothered by Riular’s strange accent, or the fact that he hadn’t removed his cloak, or even his hood, despite the heat of the fire on his back. Garon edged sideways through the crowd to Riular’s side.

“Ah, here he is!” Riular said as he approached. “This is my young friend Garon,” he told the others.

“So, you’re the one who will ride Sable,” one of the merchants, a round and red-faced man with a booming voice heaved himself to his feet. He shifted his beer to the other hand so that he could clap Garon on the back. “You’ll have your hands full with that one, my boy. But Riular here seemed to think you could handle it. He has the speed you’re wanting. If you can point his head in the right direction, he’ll take you there faster than any other.”

Garon nodded and was trying to figure out what was going on and find the words to properly reply when the man plowed on.

“Shame you lost your horses in the Brightwood.” the man went on. He threw back a mouthful of beer, splashing some into his beard. Drops clung to his whiskers a moment, flying off as he whipped his head to one of the other merchants gathered by the fire. “Not the first trouble we’ve heard out of the wood. Remember those Hillanders we saw out of Aga, Tieg?”

The one called Tieg nodded. “They were full of tales,” he said. “But there was more to it than I credited, it seems.” He looked at Riular in a way that made Garon nervous. Maybe not everyone was buying Riular’s act.

“Sorry,” Garon cut in. “Did I buy your horse?”

The round faced merchant guffawed, slapping his leg. Beer sloshed out onto the floor.

“Ah, Garon,” Riular said. “I apologize. I took the liberty of purchasing some mounts from these men. I explained what had happened to our horses, and that we needed to get to Laed with all haste, and they were kind enough to sell me two very swift beasts.”

“It was no trouble!” the round-faced man said. “Not at that price.”

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“Oh.” Garon said. “Good.” But his head was spinning. How had Riular had enough money to buy two horses, and at a price that a merchant who was giving up a mount on the road would consider more than fair? He would have to ask, but now was not the time. “Well, um, I’ll go eat then. I think we should go to bed early, so we can leave in the morning.”

“Right, Riular said bright and early!” the merchant said. “Good luck sleeping with all this racket! We don’t sleep much on the road. Do we, boys?”

And his friends agreed. Noisily.

~

The shadows in the desert were sharp and deep. Kiri worked a zig-zagging path toward the wall of the palace, its pattern dictated by the shape of the shadows of rocks and scraggly trees. She darted through a patch of moonlight and into the long shadow of the wall itself. For a moment she stood stock still, trying to see any tell-tale reaction in the silhouettes patrolling the wall that would tell her she had been spotted. So far, so good. The black of her Firebrand clothes was serving her well. Kiri crept forward, bare-feet near silent on the cooling sand. She stopped at the wall and felt it with her hands. The shadow hid her from the patrols, but it made it impossible to find handholds by sight. Patience was necessary. Slowly, making every move with care, Kiri climbed the wall by feel, ascending like an insect sprawled out against the stone. She rested a little more than halfway up, pressing her cheek against the cool stone while she waited for her breath to catch up. She nearly let go in shock as a rope appeared out of nowhere, slithering down beside her. It was barely visible in the darkness. Kiri sucked in a breath and looked up.

“Take it,” hissed the silhouette leaning over the wall above her. It looked like a woman, but Kiri couldn’t tell much else.

Deciding that there were probably better ways to kill her than throwing her a rope, Kiri took the rope and tugged it hard to test it. It held fast, so she shifted her weight and her other hand over. She ascended quickly, hand-over-hand, walking up the wall with bent knees. The woman at the top helped her up the last bit.

The unexpected helper looked Kiri over while Kiri studied her in return. The woman looked to be a member of the guard, which Kiri was surprised to see in the desert. She’d always heard they didn’t believe women should leave the home, or fight. It was considered unseemly here even more that it had been in Westfall Valley.

“You are the Firebrand,” the woman said. It wasn’t a question.

“I am,” Kiri agreed. “Also…” she showed her coin and the woman humphed.

“You’re not one of the Thief Lord’s people,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Well...ok, you’re right,” Kiri agreed. “But I have worked with him.”

“My lady has told us about the Firebrand,” the woman said. “I believe she wants to meet you.”

“Your lady?” Kiri said. “You mean Mala...I mean Lady Mala?”

“Yes.” the woman agreed. “Come with me, I will show you to her.”

“Lady Mala wants to meet me? Firebrand-me?” Kiri stammered. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. How did Mala even know the Firebrand was here? What about Useph? It made sense for his people to have their eyes out for the Firebrand for him. She would’ve expected the guard to take an intruder to the Lord of the Desert, not his lady.

“Yes,” the guardswoman said again. “What is the confusion? I know I am speaking your language correctly.”

“Um, nothing,” Kiri said. “I’ll come with you.”

The guard didn’t take her into the courtyard and out to the main part of the palace, but instead along the wall to a fortified tower. Another guardswoman dressed the same way as her nodded and passed them through a heavy doorway without commenting on Kiri. A little later they entered a room that was almost entirely taken up by a long table. Another guardswoman was lounging back in her seat there, her feet propped up on the table, her eyes closed. Dozing. Kiri could hardly believe her eyes. The lounging guard was Mala. This couldn’t be how the new Lady of the Desert was supposed to spend her time.

“My lady,” the guard who had brought her in cleared her throat. Mala jerked awake and stomped her feet on the ground. Her eyes widened as she took in Kiri.

“The Firebrand, Lady Mala,” said the guardswoman. “Caught her sneaking up the wall.”

A huge grin spread across Mala’s face. “Really?” she said. She waved, her grin turning smug. “Hi, Kiri!”