Yuko paced back and forth in a grove of dried-up trees near the city.

“What am I going to do?” he asked no one in particular. He paced for a bit longer then kicked a dried stick out of his way. “I just ran from this place! Now I’m back?!”

He sighed and sat down on a dry stump. “I must be cursed.”

The sun was setting, painting the sandstone sides of the city into an orange-red shade. Far off in the hazy distance near the horizon, rain clouds drifted lazily over the western side of the city. Near that area was a vibrant green stripe across the landscape where trees hugged a large river.

Yuko searched the length and breadth of the city’s walls and buildings. “I don’t think I can face you again Kalia.”

The sun slowly fell below the horizon, its light brushing the tops of the buildings for a few minutes before leaving the city in shadow.

Yuko stood and carefully approached the city. Dusk was the best time for sneaking.

It pained him, but he knew exactly where he was going. The city’s springs used to flow into a now-dry streambed not two weeks ago. Those springs were the only reason the city came this far out into the desert.

Yuko picked his way along the streambed. Drifts of sand obscured parts of it but he found his way. A cool night breeze picked up and rustled his hair.

He crouched and crawled along the ground out of sight of the wall. He never tried to peek out at it. A guard would surely see the movement.

Yuko made sure to keep his bearing, using the light of the Western Star to guide him through the many offshoots of the rambling streambed.

By the time the sky was fading from blue to purple and the second star could be seen in the night, Yuko crouched at the streambed’s turning point under the city wall.

He was lying down behind the streambed’s bank. The wall was only a sprint away at this point. It wasn’t a very tall wall. At this point in the city it was about five arm spans. Still too tall for Yuko to climb but that was beside the point. He was a horrible climber anyway.

The faint scrape of guard’s feet on stone reached his ear. Two of them. They spoke in low tones and then started walking again.

If only he could sneak through the stream’s iron grating in the wall, he could deal with anything else in the city. It was the way he had escaped the city, he should be able to make his way back through.

Yuko allowed himself a single, quick peek. The guardsmen were walking in opposite directions. He waited until their footsteps grew distant, then crawled as quietly as he could over the sandy parts of the streambed.

He could almost feel their eyes. Any guard on the wall looking down would be able to see him right now.

He stopped and listened. His panting was too loud so he held his breath. He could hear the footsteps stopping just over the sound of his heart beating in his ears.

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He frantically looked around. He should be in shadow, but he didn’t trust it. There, just a short ways away, only twenty paces from the wall was an overhang the bank of the stream created. He scrambled for it and slid under. As he did so, he accidentally kicked a stone and it clattered across the other rocks of the streambed.

Yuko pushed himself as far back under the overhang as possible, but too late he realized how shallow the overhang was. The shadows of dusk had played a trick on him.

            “Hey! I think I saw something!”

            Footsteps came towards Yuko.

            He stayed as still as possible. Movement now would only confirm the guard’s suspicions.

            “Yeah? You sure it wasn’t a rat-dragon like last time?”

            “It looked bigger, down there, in the dry streambed.”

            Silence.

            Out of the corner of his eye, Yuko could see the two guardsmen with their torches atop the wall.

            “Hmmm, I don’t see it. Where did you see it?”

            “Eh, hard to say. About thirty paces from the wall.”

            More silence.

            “Well, I’ll go get a torch to throw down there.”

            “Here, I’ll just use mine.”

            Yuko held his breath.

            The flaming torch was thrown from the wall. It sailed through the air and Yuko lost sight of it for a moment. He heard it land somewhere on the ground behind him.

            Yuko let out a tense breath. It hadn’t landed in the streambed.

            “You dolt! I oughta smack you.”

            “What?! I’d like to see you throw half as good!”

            “No, I’m going to go get us two more torches is what I’m going to do.”

            Footsteps leaving.

            Yuko risked moving his head. One guard with a torch was leaving, the other without a torch was walking after him.

            Yuko took the chance and quickly started crawling on his belly in the shadow of the streambed.

            “Come on! Just throw your torch down there!”

            Yuko scrambled to all fours, pacing himself in a low jog so as to not to make too much noise.

            “I’m not going to stub my toe like you do all the time! Stay and watch will you?”

            “Fine, fine.” Footsteps walking back.

            Yuko tip-toed the last few steps to the small grate. He resisted a sigh of relief.

            Not moments later, the other guard came back and landed a torch smack-dab into the streambed.

            Yuko shook his head and turned to squeeze his small frame through the grate. He was awarded with a bump on the head. He gritted his teeth against yelling an obscenity.

            He felt between the iron bars, confused, then realization dawned on him. The iron grate had been blocked up with rocks. There was no easy way into the city anymore.