Quell had been busy while I was asleep. After waiting for the guard rotation to pass us by—a schedule Quell had apparently spent some time deducing—we leave camp and make for a cluster of rocks a hundred meters away. Behind that is a star drake, already loaded up and waiting for us.

“At least we won’t have to worry about dying of dehydration,” I say, noting all the water skins.

“That would somewhat put a damper on our rescue mission,” Quell agrees. “I’ve got plenty of dhampyr rations, too, so you won’t have to worry about being blood-starved.”

I blink. “Blood starved?”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Quell says. “I’ve got plenty of rations anyway, so it’s irrelevant.”

I raise my eyebrows in alarm. “It doesn’t sound irrelevant.” I’m starting to have reservations about agreeing to this.

“Here,” Quell says, passing a cloak to me. It’s far lighter than it looks, almost like silk, and it shimmers like light refracting through water. “Sun cloak. You’ll be needing this before long.”

“It’s to keep cool?” I throw the cloak around my shoulders, and feel immediate relief from the sun across my back and arms. “I think I’ll be needing it now.”

“Try to use it only when you really need it,” Quell says, reaching out to tap the gemstone clasp that secures the cloak about my neck. Immediately, the heat returns. “If we could use these things all the time, we’d be active during the day. But it takes magic to keep the sunshade spell on, and eventually they’ll need to be recharged.”

I grimace, already uncomfortably warm again. And it’s early, still. That doesn’t bode well for the afternoon heat. I squint through my goggles across the shimmering sand. “Which way are we headed?”

“Backward,” Quell says. “We need to retrace our steps to where we parted with Darian. Heading back over already-disturbed sand will help cover our tracks for a while. Then I’ll be able to pick up Darian’s trail from the tracker I planted, assuming I don’t find Liz’s trail first. From what the soldier showed, I think she’s leaving a trail for us to follow, too.”

Well, at least he has a plan. “Alright then,” I say, turning north. “Let’s get going.”

“Actually,” Quell says before I can take a few steps. “If we want to catch up with the Captain, we’ll be needing to travel more quickly than we would be able to on foot.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. Then my gaze slides over to the star drake. It tilts its head, watching me back. “Oh, no.”

“Come on!” Quell says, grabbing a bag strapped to the lizard’s back and using it to swing himself up. “Poppy’s friendly!”

Lizards aren’t friendly. Lizards just care about their next meal.

“Poppy?” I repeat skeptically.

“Yes, I named her just now,” he says, grinning. He pats the seat behind him. “We don’t have all day!”

Now I like this plan even less. But if I don’t go, Quell will be kilometers away from me in a matter of minutes. I can’t let him get far enough away that I’d go insane if he got into trouble without me. Heaving a sigh, I edge up to the star drake’s side and pull myself up onto the creature’s back. It turns out there’s a sort of padded saddle fit to the animal’s back, long enough it could probably fit up to four people, but two is already plenty cozy for my taste.

I glance around the lizard’s back, lashed with various packs and supplies. No obvious handle or reins. “Where do I—”

“Hold tight!” Quell says. And the drake lurches forward.

I’m nearly flung off her back. Scrambling quickly to grab onto some of the straps used to tie the equipment down, I lean forward and try to flatten myself against the saddle. Quell, meanwhile, is privileged enough to have reins to cling to. Lacking my own, I squeeze my legs around the lizard’s torso and pray it will be enough.

The star drake flies across the desert, kicking up a rather obvious plume of sand in its wake. Quell glances behind us, and lets out a breath. Embers flicker from his mouth as he does so; I’d seen his brother do something similar in the fight with the carrion cactus.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Creating a mirage,” he replies quickly. Then he inhales another breath, and exhales another cloud of light.

I glance behind us, wondering how the soldiers on watch can’t possibly notice our speedy retreat. “I don’t see any mirage.”

“You can see out, but not in,” Quell says between breaths. “Now stop asking questions and let me work.”

[Check,] Echo says as I continue to search for any signs of his magic. [Lesser Mirage. A spell which can be used to camouflage a stationary area. To an outsider, the mirage might appear as a shadow or shimmer in the air.]

So we’re not completely invisible. And Echo said the spell is stationary. Is that why Quell’s continuing to breathe out magic with every exhale? Does he need to keep shifting the spell to cover us as we move? At this rate he’s going to hyperventilate.

It’s a far cry from the illusion Constance had conjured. The replica of the carrion cactus had been indistinguishable from the real thing. Not to mention, it had been moving and made noise. In comparison, this Lesser Mirage feels half-baked.

I watch the camp recede behind us, waiting for any sign of pursuit. But after a few more minutes, the army disappears behind a dune, and then we’re alone among endless rolling waves of sand.

Quell slumps in his seat, shoulders heaving in exhaustion. He takes a sip of water, then turns around to flash me a weary grin.

“Step one down,” he pants.

“You have steps?” I ask, dubious.

“Of course I do. All good plans have steps.”

Yeah, and everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. At some point, this kid’s going to be in for a reality check—and I’ll probably have to be the one to rescue him from it.

We ride for hours, and my legs go numb from the position. Sometimes I doze, not entirely asleep from the sun and heat and motion, but the lack of sleep has sunk into my bones like lead. My skin feels like it’s burning, and eventually Quell signals we can pull our hoods up and activate our sun cloaks. The relief is immediate, like jumping into a pool, and then I do manage to fall asleep for a time.

“Nye.”

I jerk awake to Quell’s voice, sitting up and looking around. As far as I can tell, we’re in a random spot of desert. Every direction is more sand and sporadic rock formations.

“What is it?” I ask. Judging by the sun, it’s afternoon. Constance and his camp won’t even know we’re gone yet.

“This is where Captain Darian parted ways,” he says, pointing off to the east. “Her trail starts here.”

I glance around the sand, looking for footprints, or any sort of sign that we’re on the right track, but the gentle winds have already smoothed over the area. “I don’t see anything.”

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“See? There.” Quell points to a spot of sand. When I look close, there appears to be a black dot on the ground, no bigger than the size of a coin. “I fixed a bottle of ink infused with illusion magic to the captain’s star drake before she left,” Quell explains. “The design is quite ingenious, really. First I perforated the cork so it would drip slowly, then I applied an invisibility spell to the cork, so any liquid that passes through it will become invisible. The spell wears off naturally after a few minutes, meaning by the time the ink becomes visible, the drake will already have moved on. All we have to do now is follow the trail to its source. Easy!”

He puffs up proudly, as if waiting for my inevitable praise.

I shake my head in bewilderment. “Are you kidding me? That’s your tracker spell? A leaking paint can? What if it runs out? What if Darian finds it and tosses the thing? What if the wind has already swept your trail away?”

Quell deflates. “She won’t find it. And the illusion magic is resistant to—”

“You realize if we follow this trail to a dead-end, we’ll just be lost out in the middle of nowhere with limited supplies and possibly no way to find our way back to your brother?”

“It won’t come to that,” Quell says, a little prickly now. “This is just step two in the plan! It will be fine.”

I grimace, glancing back in the direction we’d come. What do you suppose the chances are I could knock this guy out and steer the lizard back to Constance and his troops?

“Nye?” Quell prompts. “Why are you smiling?”

“You can laugh, or you can cry.” I turn back to him. Dammit. “Let’s go.”

----------------------------------------

We travel the whole rest of the day, finally making it through the scorching sun and back into the cool of evening. It’s surprising how fast the temperature drops once the sun is down. The breeze from riding on the lizard certainly doesn’t hurt, either, but the darkening sky is a welcome relief after the unbearable heat of the day. Not long after dusk, I peel my goggles off.

When Quell calls for a break, I’m more than happy to roll off the lizard and fall to the ground in a numb, tingling heap.

“Just long enough to get some food and water,” Quell tells me, grabbing some supplies from the packs. “Then we need to be on the move again.”

“Fine,” I grumble, taking the rations and gulping the water down. I can feel the moisture evaporating from my lips with every breath.

Quell sips at his own canteen, distractedly wandering around the star drake and kicking at the sand. I watch him suspiciously.

“You better not have lost our trail,” I say.

“I haven’t!” he objects.

I wait.

“It’s just… gotten a little more spread out, is all,” he adds.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine!” he cries. “Don’t worry. We’re still on the right track. I think Captain Darian might have found her own trail around here, because the drops of ink are spaced out far more widely—that means they’re moving faster. It shouldn’t be a problem; we’ll just need to keep an eye out to make sure they don’t make an abrupt turn.”

I shake my head. “This is exactly what I was worried about.”

“I told you, I’ve got it handled,” he says, frowning. “And anyway, I’ve been doing some math, and based on how fast she had been traveling when she left, and how fast we’ve been going on the drake, I think we should be almost caught up with her.”

“But you said she’s moving faster now,” I point out.

“Well, yes, but that trail only just started,” Quell says. “She can’t be too far!”

I sigh out my frustrations, tipping my face to the sky. There’s a flock of birds in the distance—dark shadows wheeling against the night sky. “Which way are we headed then?”

Quell hesitates again. “Ah, well, that’s why I called a stop, actually. I’m pretty sure she went straight, but I saw some of the ink splatters curve a bit, so I was just checking to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”

“You mean you haven’t missed anything,” I grumble. “I’m just following your very dubious directions.”

“My directions are highly indubious I’ll have you know.”

I’m beginning to think they might not be birds. The distant silhouettes are far too large for me to be able to make out if they were some kind of hawk or vulture. “What are those?” I ask Quell.

Echo answers me first. [Check: Wyvern flock—colloquially known as reapers. While these creatures are fearsome beasts on their own, they prefer to hunt in flocks. Once a target is spotted, a wyvern will circle above it until the rest of the flock has joined. They then descend as a group to overwhelm their prey.]

“What?” Quell glances around until he catches sight of the distant shadows, too. He frowns. “Reapers. Not good. They’ll leave a caravan or army alone, but aren’t above picking off lone stragglers. We should find some rocks to hide among until they pass by.”

“Why do you call them reapers?” I ask, still watching the distant shadows pass over the stars, causing the sky to flicker.

“I’m not sure where it started,” Quell admits. “We’ve not much farmland outside the cities. But I imagine it’s due to how efficiently they cut through their prey, once they’ve made up their mind to attack. I’ve heard that once they start their descent, it’s like a blade falling down on you. Ah, there you go.”

Even as he’s explaining, the shadows drop through the air, all at once. I try to imagine what that must look like from the ground. Shadows of teeth and claws falling on you like rain. The thought makes me shiver.

I stand up. “I guess we better head out then.”

Quell looks at me curiously. “Do you know which way we’re headed?”

“Yeah.” I nod my head toward the wyverns. “That way.”

“Uh, I don’t think you understand what you’re suggesting,” Quell says. I’m already climbing back up on the star drake’s back. “Right—right. You’re not from here. In case my earlier description somehow didn’t convey this: those things are extremely dangerous.”

“Yeah,” I say, gesturing for him to climb back up. “And they’re attacking someone. We should help.”

“What could we even do?” he objects.

“I’ve got a few ideas. Now hurry up.” I lean down and grab a strap of his armor, then hoist him up onto the lizard as he squeaks in protest. “What if it’s my brother up there? What if it’s your sister? You want to let her get eaten?”

Quell stiffens. “You don’t think… No, it can’t be her. She must be at least a day ahead of us.”

“It doesn’t matter who it is,” I say. “They need our help, and I can help them.”

“It could be an animal,” Quell suggests.

“Then we stand to get some extra meat. Unless you’ve got better things to do, like stand around and look forlornly at the sand.”

Quell still hesitates. “This is risky. Finding my sister—and your brother—should be top priority. We shouldn’t let ourselves get distracted.”

“Then let’s just scout it out,” I say, starting to get annoyed. The truth is, there’s a part of me that is afraid that somehow it’s my brother over there. I know it’s not likely, but could I live with myself if it was him, and I’d done nothing? I’m tired of wanting to find Álvaro but having no agency to do so. I’m itching to try something. Let me have this one thing.

“Let’s at least get close enough to see if they’ve found an animal or not,” I suggest. “Then we’ll take it from there.”

“I don’t know,” Quell says.

My patience snaps. “Well, I do.” I lean around Quell and grab the reins, giving them a sharp snap. The drake leaps into motion.

“Do I need to steer, too, or can you handle that?” I call over the wind.

Quell grabs the reins with a worried frown. “No. I’ve got it.”

As we rise and fall over the dunes, I can start to make out where the wyverns have landed. Ahead of us is a cluster of sandstone formations that canvas the landscape in boulders and dramatic arches. The flock of reapers is crawling all over it; whatever they’re after must be taking refuge inside the rocks.

We stop at the top of the nearest dune to analyze the scene below. Now that we’re this close, I can hear faint shouts amidst the bone-chilling screeches of the wyverns. It’s definitely people, then.

Even as we watch, someone stumbles from between the rocks. A reaper drops to the ground, stalking after them. The figure slashes their sword at the beast, holding it back. When they judge they have enough room, they pause, swishing their sword quickly through the sand. The ground lights up a moment later, and a blast explodes before them, peppering the reaper.

Quell gasps. “It’s the Captain!” He snaps the reins, and Poppy leaps down the hill as I desperately cling to her saddle. “See? I told you we were on the right track!”

Ignoring the fact that he didn’t even want to investigate the wyverns in the first place. But okay.

As we race toward the fight, I lean around Quell and the lizard’s head to get a better look. Darian and the reaper have disappeared behind into the sandstone formation once more; it’s got to be a death trap in there.

“Drop me off and then retreat,” I tell Quell, voice raised over the wind. “I don’t need you getting in trouble and making me come save you. I’ll have plenty to worry about already.” Like what I’ll actually be able to do in this fight. I’ll be using the Aegis, obviously, but I won’t have a chance to remove it from my Inventory until I’ve got two feet planted on solid ground.

Quell glances back at me and hesitates, like he wants to argue. But maybe even he realizes he’s practically useless here, no matter how much admitting that would sting. Instead, he clenches his jaw and nods.

The stone arches are just before us. I tense up, getting ready to hit the ground running.

A shadow appears before us. Quell gasps, yanking on the reins. Poppy pivots to the side, and the wyvern’s teeth snap at open air. The star drake scrambles away, its feet kicking up plumes of sand as it attempts to flee the wyvern. Quell and I are whipped back and forth—and my grasp is ripped from the saddle. As Poppy spins away, I’m flung from her back. I hit the sand hard, barely able to brace myself before impact, then go tumbling over the ground. I dig my fingers into the sand to stop my roll and scramble to my feet before I’ve even come to a stop.

The moonlight vanishes overhead as a sinuous neck cranes over me. Blood and saliva drip from the reaper’s jaws. I freeze, fear seizing my limbs.

It’s taller than a star drake, but far more sleek, each of its limbs thin and long, more reminiscent of a spider than a lizard. Its wings are folded up like great fans at its sides, and it uses these limbs to walk on, a single bat-like claw protruding from each knuckle. Its tail lashes from side to side like a cat’s.

Then, without warning, it attacks.