Akamu entered the hut perched on the top of a stone outcrop looking over a small oasis. The sun was shading into night, and the bluff was polished to a smooth surface. Only a fortunate dip in the sandstone here, a hundred paces across or more, gave shelter from the wind that blew across this barren part of the stable lands. It allowed the small oasis here to flourish, complete with scrubby plants, a few stunted trees, and even a few fish. Farmed carefully, it was enough to keep maybe one person alive.

“Coaxoch,” he said by greeting. “You have something for me?” He was away from his patrol. He had just enough time to tunnel through the sand back to them Quirra Digs A Hole before he was missed. If he was quick.

The ancient Eztli Mecatl looked up from the vial she was studying. She was old enough the gray skin around her scaly beak was shading to stone white. Beside her bubbled a noxious substance in a stone bowl. Herbs and fish guts were strewn about the table. She’d been here long before the island was close enough to cause danger, being one of the first to flee the oppressive regime of the new invaders. But her beak could still crush iron, and her clear blue eyes regarded him for a long moment with keen intelligence before she picked up the vial and gestured with it.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I do. Confirmation. But I suspect you already know, you do, what I’m going to say. Otherwise you wouldn’t have brought this to me. So tell me, Akamu of the stone warriors: what would happen if the worst came to pass? Do you know what it means?”

Akamu sighed, wiping a hand across his face. Then he stood tall and formed both hands into a ball, releasing a portion of Tortoise’s Growth from where he’d stored it in his core earlier. Tortoise’s Hard Shell was a good shield against inquisitive ears. Even powerful ones.

“I do. Uncle Smith is a traitor.”

THE END OF BOOK 1 OF THE SHIFTING LANDS