The Aegis is delighted by Darian’s order to leave the shield outside my Inventory. It’s equally aghast when it learns there’s this thing called sleep I have to do.
You can’t stay latched to my arm while I’m asleep, I tell it. Hell, you can’t even fit into the tent.
The Aegis is not convinced. But I would remain so much more protected this way! It will ensure no one will get anywhere near me while I remain prone and pathetic and comatose.
It’s not a coma, it’s—you know what, never mind. I sigh, rubbing my temple. Quell is already inside and getting ready for bed. Just let go of me. I know you can. You don’t need to be latched to me 24/7.
The Aegis, of course, is quite offended. It doesn’t need to be latched to me. It does not need anything. It is mighty and powerful and above all base instincts!
Great, then let go of my arm, I say.
The Aegis still hesitates. It doesn’t respond to me, exactly, but I can feel it radiating a faint uncertainty. Mentally, I focus on that nugget of concern, and its feelings are brought into focus. It’s worried that if it lets go, it might get left behind. It was left behind for a long, long time, buried beneath the sand.
Huh. I guess it’s not entirely as self-confident as it acts. Even the shield is scared of being abandoned. Maybe that’s why it’s so clingy.
Because I know it doesn’t have to cling to me. I remember throwing it when I was in my first Bloodlust. It was like the shield and I were more in sync then: of one will, if not one mind. Maybe that’s why it trusted me enough to let go back then. But right now, our priorities couldn’t be more different, and it must be able to tell that.
I won’t leave you, I tell the shield. I just need to sleep for a few hours. Look, I’ll stick you in the ground right outside the tent flap, so I can’t leave without grabbing you. How’s that?
The Aegis finds this somewhat assuring, but still wonders if it’s really necessary. I would be so much more safe and protected with it on my arm!
Now we’re just going in circles. Well, I guess you’ve left me no choice, I think with an exaggerated sigh. I’ll just have to add you back to my—
No wait!
The red bands of light dissolve, and the shield drops to the ground, narrowly avoiding crushing my foot. I grab its lip before it can tip over, then rub my freed forearm in relief. See? This isn’t so bad.
The Aegis grumbles. It does not like the dark empty place. There is nothing to fight there! And no one to talk to. Leaving my side is slightly better than being nowhere, but it’s also not an ideal scenario. However, even with such a handicap, the Aegis will ensure I am protected. It will not fall to anything!
Except gravity, I think. I lift up the shield and then slam it into the ground, burying its base until it stands upright. Then I hesitantly let go, and while I feel it struggling with the impulse to lash out with its magic, it doesn’t grab me. Hey, progress.
It always is making progress, the Aegis thinks as I crawl into the tent. Nothing can ever hinder it!
Aegis, shut up. I collapse onto my bed mat. I need to sleep.
Yes, the Aegis agrees. It will keep vigilant watch while I am senseless and torpid.
Shhh. I squeeze my eyes shut. Stop thinking.
The Aegis is the best at not thinking. It can be entirely thoughtless. Completely silent. Devoid of all cognition and strategic—what’s that! Oh, it’s a cloud. But if that cloud gets too close, it will rue the day it dared encroach on the Crimson Aegis.
I groan, uselessly stuffing a finger into my ear. It’s going to be a long night.
----------------------------------------
I do, eventually, fall asleep, then when I wake I find the shield still mumbling to itself about potential threats in the shape of tumbleweeds and wild rabbits. As we eat breakfast and prepare for the next ride, its constant threat assessment becomes background noise.
The star drake provides another unexpected challenge. As everyone finishes packing up camp, I pause before the lizard. The Aegis is back to riding on my arm, but once we’re racing through the desert, I’m worried it will catch the wind like a kite and rip my shoulder from its socket.
Can you grab onto my back while we’re riding? I ask the Aegis. We can switch back to the arm when I dismount.
The Aegis is unsure about this. Resting on my back sounds a lot less useful if something challenges us to a fight.
Well, if it’s too much for you to handle, you don’t have to, I add.
Aegis roils with affront. What?! Too much to handle? Absurd. It can easily maneuver to a more optimal position. Trivial!
The red light that’s lashed around my arm squirms, crawling its way unsettlingly up my arm, over my armor, and around my shoulder. Then I feel a pressure across my chest and a weight settles against my back.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Thanks, I think. Much better.
The shield beams. Such an insignificantly easy act is undeserving of gratitude.
…Though if I wanted to show it even more gratitude, it wouldn’t object.
I shake my head with a laugh. “I’ll be riding in back today,” I tell the others. Given the new position of my oversized shield, no one argues, though Quell does strangely seem a little disappointed.
When we head out that evening, I have to adjust the shield again to hang sideways across my back, so I’m actually able to sit on the star drake. And just as I’d feared, the top and bottom edge catch the wind a bit. But I can counter this by leaning in, and the shield even blocks the last hour of sunlight, providing some extra shade. Maybe working with the Aegis isn’t so bad after all. The constant mental commentary is slightly distracting, but I can’t deny that it is a powerful, useful weapon.
The Aegis preens at the compliments. Of course! Was there ever any doubt?
----------------------------------------
The next few days blur together. We wake a few hours before sunset, ride until the drakes and Xamireb need a break, eat a short lunch, then ride until dawn. The sunlight grows uncomfortable as we set up camp, then hot as we eat dinner, and finally painful when Darian deems it time to do more sparring sessions. Quell, Earnest, and Xamireb have taken to watching us until the sun becomes too unbearable; Earnest suggests placing bets on how long I’ll last before Darian flips me on my back. Neither Xamireb nor Quell take him up on it.
When I go to bed each morning, I’m exhausted, sweaty, and covered in bruises.
But every day I feel stronger and more capable than the last.
“The Coil is in sight,” Xamireb says just after dawn of the sixth day.
I squint against the rising sun, trying to make out whatever Xamireb can see through the wavering heat of the horizon. Even with the sun low and goggles pulled over my eyes, the desert is still painfully bright, not helped by the sunlight reflecting off the baked ground and back into my face.
The news that we’re finally close to civilization and not long from being out of the scorching heat fills me with relief, but Darian swears. “I thought we were closer. Blaze it all. We will not be making camp today; we’ll ride straight to The Coil and search for signs of the Blades there. They must already be in the city.”
“Or already through and moved on,” Xamireb says.
Darian shoots them a glare.
They dip their head. “Apologies, Captain.”
“I don’t think so,” Quell says. “They’re close. We were gaining on Liz’s trail every day. If they arrived anytime tonight, they were probably planning on spending the day there to sleep and recover. This presents us with an opportunity to find them before they slip out the other side.”
“And an opportunity to gain intelligence,” Darian says. “Their numbers, their condition, the state of the princess. Earnest, I want you to start at the stables and ask around for any groups of six or more individuals recently purchasing beasts of burden—especially if it’s of the faster variety. Xamireb, you go with Earnest, keeping an eye out for the Umbral Blade’s trail. I will investigate the marketplace for recent groups of travelers purchasing travel rations. Prince Quell, you’ll be coming with me. We meet up at the South exit of the city four hours after our ingress if we can’t find anything; immediately contact the other party if we do. Understood?”
“Yes, Captain,” Earnest and Xamireb say in unison, Quell hurriedly following up with a “Yes, Captain,” of his own several seconds too late. I stay silent: I didn’t get any orders, and we all know I’ll be trailing Quell, anyway.
Plus I definitely waited too long, and it would be awkward if I said anything now.
After another half hour of travel, I can make out a silhouette on the horizon. It gradually resolves into a round, dark shape. And as we get closer, details begin to emerge.
“Holy shit.” Surprise and disquiet flutter through me as I realize what it is.
The Coil is a colossal snake. I’m not sure if it’s the carcass or just the skin, but either way the coiling pattern of diamonds is unmistakable, its mouth open and dark, welcoming us inside.
“Indeed,” Quell agrees, craning around Darian to get a better look. “I’ve read about the city before, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in person. Truly awe-inspiring.”
“There aren’t really snakes that big out here, are there?” I ask.
Earnest snorts. “That one didn’t pop out of thin air.”
I glance around nervously, as if more three-story-tall snakes might be slithering about. Man, I thought the cacti and wyverns were big, but this recontextualizes everything I’ve been imagining about this desert. Quell wasn’t kidding when he said Life arcanum results in “overgrown” animals.
We slow as we approach the city, and Xamireb pulls up alongside us, now at more of a trotting pace. They have to be exhausted from all that running (galloping?), but they haven’t even broken a sweat.
Do spider people sweat?
“I would suggest removing some of your adornments, my prince,” Darian says. “There’s nothing that specifically identifies you as royalty, but any signs of wealth might draw unwanted attention in the Coil.”
“Oh, right,” Quell says. He unclips some gold cuffs from his ears and removes several bracelets, tucking them away.
“And Nye, keep your shield out,” Darian says. “It will help reinforce a general air of ‘don’t fuck with us.’”
My mouth twitches with a smile. Darian might spend most of her time being serious and threatening, but it’s in a way I can’t help but respect. “Can do, Captain.”
The Crimson Aegis catches a glimpse of Darian’s order through my thoughts, and it exudes eagerness. Is there someone we can threaten? It loves threatening things!
“Everyone else, remove any Duneshade insignias you can,” Darian continues. “Attempt to cover what you can’t. We won’t be able to pass as locals, but no sense in painting a bullseye on our backs.”
We’re all already wearing shade cloaks, which helps a bit. Quell fastens his down his chest, covering the gold insignia there. My armor is more plain, but there’s still the kingdom’s symbol pressed into the leather of the chest plate. At least the colors are muted.
Darian jumps off Poppy and takes her reins as we approach The Coil, leading the way to the mouth of the snake. I have to crane my head back to see it all. Fangs like inverted trees sprout from the roof of its mouth and hang halfway to the ground.
“Hold,” a guard calls. “Origin and business?”
“Duneshade scouts,” Darian says. “Here to trade for supplies.”
The guard gives us an unimpressed look. “Duneshade. You are aware The Coil stands neutral between the Duneshade and Moonfall conflict?”
“Yes,” Darian says. “We won’t cause any trouble.”
“We’ve had Moonfall travelers pass through here recently as well,” the guard says, and Quell sits up straighter at her words. “If a fight breaks out…”
“It won’t,” Darian promises. “We will keep the peace while in your territory. Please, we just want to restock our water and meat supplies.”
The guard gives her another long look, then finally steps aside. “Welcome to The Coil. The stables are in the first ring.”
Darian dips her head in thanks and gestures for us to dismount. She passes Poppy’s reins to Xamireb as the rest of us slide off the drake’s back. Then we follow Darian inside as the snake swallows us whole.