When I wake and roll over, and every muscle screams like I’ve been hit by a truck. This is why you’re supposed to cool down after workouts. Not that getting thrown into the middle of a battle with a giant cactus monster will give you much opportunity for that.

I put on the rest of my attire and duck outside, disoriented for a moment as I notice the sky is purple and orange once more. Had it only been a few minutes?

But the colors are at the opposite end of the horizon. It’s now dusk.

The camp is almost entirely packed up. All but a few tents have been torn down and loaded back onto the star drakes. There are several groups of people gathered around fire pits, and the smell of smoke and cooking meat wafts over to me. My stomach twists up into a knot and loudly announces its dissatisfaction. Wordlessly, the guards stationed to keep an eye on me reappear, then lead me to one of the fire pits.

“Oh, you’re up!”

I reflexively grimace at Quell’s voice. There goes my three minutes of peace.

“Here, I saved you some breakfast,” he says, carrying a stone bowl and spoon over to me. I feel a twinge of guilt at my reaction, and gratefully accept the food.

“What is it?” I ask, digging in even before he can respond. The bowl and utensil are coarse and look like they’re made out of a bunch of sand stuck together. Luckily I don’t get any grit in my bite of stew. There’s very little seasoning—it seems like it’s mostly murky water and chunks of rare meat. But my taste buds clench in relief at the tangy, rich taste.

“It’s the dhampyr rations,” Quell says. “Protein and water, mostly. I find it dreadful, but Darian tells me it’s filling.”

I guess that’s why the water rations are so low: you get it with the meal. “Could be worse,” I say, finishing off the bowl even as I stand there. “Although maybe that’s the starvation talking. Hey, why do you use stone bowls? Isn’t that heavy to lug around?”

“We don’t lug it around,” Quell says, gesturing for me to follow him toward the main part of camp. “It’s sand under a temporary spell—many of the soldiers have a stone affinity, so we make them each time we make camp. It’ll fall apart in another thirty minutes or so. So don’t be late to meals,” he teases.

“Noted.”

Captain Darian greets us with a nod, and Prince Constance acknowledges us with a glance. They’re both busy overseeing the tear-down and preparations to move out. It doesn’t escape me that Quell isn’t doing anything to assist. The guy really isn’t leadership material.

In another ten minutes, we’re moving out.

I watch the procedure curiously as several scouts are sent ahead and the rest of the soldiers form a procession, at most five people wide. As an estimate, I’d say there’s around a hundred soldiers in this unit. Is that enough to take a city? I don’t know. But it doesn’t feel like a lot.

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“I thought you were going to go look for the princess,” I say to Darian as Quell and I walk alongside her. Constance has moved up the line to speak with the scouts and foreguard.

“As soon as we find a lead, I will be,” Darian says. “In the meantime, we’re heading in the right direction. It’s very likely the Umbral Blades will have to pass through the Oasis and restock supplies before moving into Moonfall territory—assuming the Oasis isn’t their destination itself.” She frowns. “Ambassador Ashla has admitted there may be a covert Umbral presence there already, though that was the most she would say on the subject. But with our scouts pressing forward, we might force the Duneshade kidnappers to take a more circuitous route, slowing their lead in the process.”

“I see,” Quell says. “I suppose that’s good.” His forehead is pinched in worry, though.

The night darkens as we continue to walk, but no one makes any lights. My eyes adjust to the dim as they had the night before, but I wonder how the humans aren't stumbling over themselves.

“Do you always move at night?” I ask. “Is it to avoid the sun’s heat?”

“Daytime is inhospitable in the Gilded Desert, and much of Dunmora South, for that matter,” Quell says. “Most people and cities here operate on a nocturnal schedule. No one’s very productive in the heat of the day.”

“Really?” Wow, that’s pretty neat. And it makes sense for dhampyrs, given how they’d be at no disadvantage given their—our—night vision. “You don’t have trouble seeing?” I ask him.

Quell smiles a little as he taps his glasses. “These aren’t just for show.”

“Yeah.” I look at him flatly. “I figured they were for, you know, seeing.”

“Well, that too,” he admits. The broken lens is now repaired. I wonder if that’s due to magic or spares. “Mine are artificed to help me see in the dark. Other humans typically use artificed charms, equipment, or temporary spells to similarly help them maneuver at night.” Ah, so that’s what all the goggles are for. I’d just assumed they were to keep the sand out. “But even without, it’s not so bad,” Quell continues. “Especially with both moons up, like tonight.”

I glance to the sky. The sight of two moons hanging in the air still so strange to me.

“Darian,” I venture after a while. She gives me an unimpressed look. “Er, Captain. I wanted to ask you a favor, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“You want to learn how to be a better fighter?” she guesses. “I saw you during the attack. You’ve got a powerful weapon and the muscles to use it, but your lack of technique is apparent. Which is also a big reason why I believe you’re not a Moonfall spy. Even a trained plant couldn’t fake that lack of skill.”

“Er, thanks?” I say. “And I do want to take you up on that offer. But actually, I was going to ask about, um, some dhampyr things.” Like, what the hell am I dealing with here.

“Oh,” she says, looking at me in surprise. “Of course. I can answer any questions you might have.”

“Thanks,” I say, a knot of tension unwinding itself in my shoulders. “I guess the first thing I wanted to ask about was the Bloodlust.”

She gives a sympathetic grunt. “That’s certainly one place to start. But it is important to address. If we get clash with any Moonfall soldiers, you’ll need to stay back. You’re too much of a risk with that Bloodlust.”

I frown, throwing a quick glance around at the other soldiers. It seems to be a pretty even split between humans, arachnoids, and dhampyrs. It can’t be practical to have a third of your soldiers fall back anytime a fight takes place.

“What about all the other dhampyrs?” I ask. “What about you?”

She gives me a sharp look. “Not all dhampyrs have the Bloodlust. The ones that do are encouraged to pursue other professions.”

“Oh.” I had just assumed all dhampyrs had to deal with this. That just figures. “I mean, I don’t want to be useless in a fight. Is there any way I can get rid of it?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Darian says. “Given enough time, you can learn to better control it, but…”

As she’s speaking, the arachnoid soldier Xamireb hurries over to us. “Captain Darian.”

“Report.”

“We think we found Princess Felicity’s trail.”

Darian’s face turns to steel, determined and focused, and I can tell now I won’t be getting instruction on how to control the Bloodlust anytime soon.

“Show me,” she says.