They turned north after they left Urumkesh, following a series of canyons and trails into the Riven. The high, jagged mountains, with their strange, pointed peaks, ran from one haunted sea to the other, and were impossible to climb. Desperation Pass -- the eroded remnant of an old river -- was the only gap in the range, and the only known way through the mountains. Arai's father had mentioned it a few times, and it was known to the Galleans as well, though they had different names for it: Bandit's Gap, the Great Strike, the Demon King's Doom.

Lady Melei had some old, sketchy maps, but none of her people had actually seen the pass before, and they weren't sure how to find it. Sir Estil, who had spent several years in the desert and knew it better than most, had no better idea; he had never been out this far.

"The end of the world," the knight muttered, gazing at the mountains.

"The beginning of the world," Arai corrected.

"Well, it all depends on your point of view, I suppose," he conceded. "But we must find this pass. We've been searching for three days, and we can't afford to waste any more of our supplies."

Arai nodded grimly. It was true; they needed to hurry and cross these mountains. They weren't in any danger of running out of water -- they still had the Everlasting Chalice, after all, along with the machine Hiero had constructed to extract water from the air -- but the desert was all but lifeless, and the only food they had was that which they had brought with them. Eventually they would run out of food for themselves and feed for their animals, and that would be that.

Fortunately, and to Arai's great relief, a scouting party led by Sir Farrow stumbled across the old riverbed the very next day, and they were able to follow it directly into the Pass. It turned out to have been partially hidden, from their southerly perspective, by a set of high peaks; if they had approached it from the north they would have spotted it immediately, for the gap in the mountains soon became obvious. It was a lengthy expanse of slowly rising hills, which divided the great range in two, and which was covered in green, mossy vegetation. Arai was surprised to see this greenery; for the last few days the only plant life they had encountered was some very dry and thorny scrub brush.

Lillandra's headaches became less frequent the closer they got to the mountains. "There's less magia here," she explained. "I'm not sure why. Places with unusual geology usually collect more magia, not less." She shook her head. "Maybe it has something to do with what happened here."

"The battle against the Demon King?"

She nodded, throwing a quick glance at the sword on her hip. The expedition's carpenter -- who was also a skilled craftsman -- had made her a rough sort of scabbard for it, which was now hanging from her belt.

Arai glanced at the sword as well. Helene, the Bright Hope, the blade Maximine had used to annihilate the Demon King. It was hard to believe.

He had been giving her a few lessons over the last few days, teaching her the basics of swordplay -- how to hold the sword correctly, how to counter, parry, and riposte, and how to predict what an opponent might do from the way they were standing and moving their shoulders. She was a quick learner. The knights laughed at them whenever they saw them training together -- the idea of a woman using a sword was comical to them -- but Lillandra took her training seriously, and ignored their jibes.

She had been keeping her distance from him -- both physically and emotionally -- since he had confessed his love for her, but that seemed to be changing now; she had begun to open up to him again. Arai wasn't sure what had prompted the change, but he was grateful for it. He was afraid she would push him away again, however, if he pressured her, so he was careful not to broach the subject, nor to flirt with her, nor, in fact, to express any romantic interest in her at all. It frustrated him, but under the circumstances it seemed like the wisest course.

Shell, meanwhile, was continuing with her own training. She had started working with Damon, trying to get the hang of casting (something Lillandra had not been able to help her with), and about a week ago she had made a sort of breakthrough: the elf girl had finally figured it out, apparently, and was now capable of casting spells. They were very simple spells, and not particularly impressive -- she could summon up a little spark of flame and lift herself a couple of feet off the ground -- but Shell was thrilled with them. "I never thought I could do anything like this," she told Arai, grinning from ear to ear.

"You've been working hard."

"If only my sister could see me," she said wistfully. "Shell, the sorceress."

They were perhaps halfway through Desperation Pass, traveling up a series of steep hills, when Sir Remnick suddenly shouted out a warning to the group: "Riders! To the north!"

Arai, who had been riding in the back of one of the wagons, climbed up to the roof and looked to the north. He spotted them almost immediately: two figures, on horseback, mere specks from this distance, were riding out of the mountains, headed right for them.

Though there were only two of them, Lady Melei wasn't taking any chances; she ordered the wagons into a protective circle and shouted at her knights to arm themselves.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Arai climbed down from the roof and met up with Sir Estil. "Who are they?" he asked.

"Bandits," the knight muttered. "Outlaws."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"There's only two of them. You don't think they mean to attack us?"

"We'll see," he said gravely. He joined Lady Melei and a handful of other knights, who were waiting for the riders to reach them. Arai, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, joined this group as well.

The riders soon came into view. To Arai's surprise, one of them was a young woman, dressed like a man in brown leathers. Her blonde hair had been tied up into a thick braid, which bounced on her shoulders as she rode. She appeared to be unarmed.

The other rider was a man, perhaps thirty years old, with long black hair and a full beard. Like the woman, he was dressed in leathers, but he had a red cloak thrown around his shoulders as well, and several strange feathered medallions and necklaces strung around his neck. And this man was armed; he had a bow and a quiver of arrows on his back, and a pair of sharp and deadly-looking hatchets hanging from his belt.

"Idenitfy yourselves!" Lady Melei called out, when they came within shouting distance.

The man brought his horse to a stop and put up a palm, in what Arai took to be a friendly, non-threatening gesture. "We mean you no harm," he shouted back. He spoke Gallean, but with a bit of a patois.

"Come forward," Lady Melei said. "Slowly."

The man and woman urged their horses on. "We mean you no harm," the man said again. "We just want to talk."

"Who are you?" Lady Melei asked. "What business do you have with us?"

"My name is Roth," the man said, "and this is Nessa. We saw your approach from the Titan's Barge." He gestured to a huge rock formation several miles to the north, which did indeed look something like a great stone ship. "We don't see expeditions of this size very often."

"You didn't answer my question," Lady Melei said testily. "What business do you have with us?"

The man frowned. "Have I given you reason to be discourteous?"

"You're outlaws," she said.

He sighed. "Some of us started out as outlaws, yes, and I won't deny that there are still some brigands among us. Most of us are mere farmers now, and shepherds, and hunters, struggling to make a living in this gods-forsaken country. And we mean you no harm in any case. In fact we were hoping you might be able to help us."

"Help you?"

"The last few seasons have been difficult. Our food stores are low; our people are on the verge of starvation. If you would be willing to trade with us..." He let that hang there.

Lady Melei was unmoved. "I'm sorry," she said, "but we only have enough food to make it out of the desert ourselves; we can't afford to part with what we have."

The man's expression was weary. "There are children among us."

"I'm sorry," Melei said again. "But we must see to ourselves first. Is there anything else you wish to barter? We might be able to accommodate you. We have rugs, glassware, Addish amber--"

"We don't need trinkets. We need food."

Lady Melei rolled her tongue around in her cheek, in an impatient, but thoughtful kind of way. "How long do you think you can hold out? We plan to visit the Queendom of Elent and to return to Galleus within a few months; we will likely be passing by here again. If you'd like, we could arrange to purchase some supplies for you in Elent--"

"Months?" He shook his head. "We don't have that much time."

"Then there's nothing we can do for you."

Roth scrutinized Lady Melei for a long moment. Then, apparently disgusted, he spat at her feet, turned his horse around, and rode off with his companion.

Lillandra and Shell had sidled up to Arai and witnessed the confrontation as well. "The man has some magical talent," Lillandra noted.

"A sorcerer?"

"A very weak one. Did you notice, Shell?"

"I noticed." The elf girl appeared to be deep in thought. "He said there were children among them. Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"He could have been," Lillandra conceded. "But Melei made the right decision. We're running out of food ourselves."

"They'll die."

"We'll all die, if we don't make it out of this desert." She frowned at the riders, who were now some distance away. "Some of those medallions hanging from his neck were zemi, but I couldn't make out the spells they contained."

Sir Estil joined them. "Bandits," he said. "Make no mistake."

"How can you be sure?"

"I've seen their kind before." He threw a glance at the sun, which was just beginning to sink into the western horizon. "We should put as much distance between their camp and ourselves as we can before night falls."

And apparently Lady Melei was of the same mind; she immediately ordered the caravans on, pushing them up and down the rolling hills as quickly as they would go, and placing the wagons in another protective circle when they finally made camp an hour later. Everyone in the group was wary; they had all heard tales of the outlaws living within the Riven Mountains. More than one expedition had been waylaid by these desperate people.

Arai, who was restless as well, sought out Sir Estil. He found the old knight prowling around the outskirts of the camp, evidently on guard for an attack.

"Arai," Sir Estil greeted. "Having trouble sleeping?"

"A little." He looked out into the darkness. "Are we in danger?"

He snorted. "In the Tarnak? Always."

"From these outlaws, I mean."

"Possibly." His gave Arai a quick sideways glance. "You seem to be getting along with Lillandra a little better."

"A little. I'm teaching her how to use the sword she found."

"I noticed." He smiled faintly. "She loves you, you know."

Arai stopped. "She told you that?"

"Of course not. But it's written all over her face. She loves you."

"I love her," he muttered.

"So what's keeping you apart?"

"Julien."

"Julien?"

Arai had been reluctant to tell Sir Estil about Lillandra's history, and of her plan to raise Julien from the dead, but he had come to trust the knight and to value his counsel, so he told him now. Sir Estil listened to the story, his face grave, and when Arai finished, he asked, "Can she really do it?"

"Bring Julien back to life? I think so."

"She should abandon this plan. The dead belong to history; it is for the gods to decide the fate of their souls. It's not right to meddle in these matters."

"I agree."

"Have you tried to talk her out of it?"

"She's spent a hundred years working on this spell. What could I possibly say to dissuade her?"

Sir Estil sighed. "She must have really loved this boy."

"Exactly," he said sadly.

"Arai!"

Arai turned to see Lillandra jogging up to him, out of breath. "What's the matter?"

"It's Shell," she said. "She's gone."

"What do you mean? Where did she go?"

"I don't know. I can't find her. But she was brooding about the starving children in the bandit camp, and Gramewold saw her digging around in one of the supply wagons. She may have decided to pay them a visit."

"Wonderful," he muttered. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go look for the little idiot."