The little girl clung onto the staff in one hand, held the bomb in the other, and walked north. She had been walking all night, and they had no choice but to follow her.

Before they left where the girl had crashed the glider, she had looked around for any remaining scraps of her book. She found only a few pages. The coin was still stuck to one, and after a few more moments of searching, found the little bracelet and then followed.

And they had been walking all night. She had fallen in beside the other woman, shorter, stocky, and caught glimpses of the steel rods that ran down from her shoulder armour into her gauntlets. Intricate craftsmanship. Expensive.

“Your limp is improving,” she said to her. There was no reply. The only sound was the staff that they followed hissing its drag mark into the sand. They couldn’t help but notice the girl occasionally wiping at her face.

“I think she may have been injured in the crash. Bleeding. She was staggering at first. It was a severe impact. We should see if we can at least check her wound.”

“I hope she passes out.”

“Won’t she drop the bomb, the grenade, then? I would think that would be bad.”

“I have already planned for this. Let her fall. When she does, I will be quick enough. I will grab it. Stop its detonation. It has a… never mind.”

“What? What were you going to say?”

Silence.

“You are deceiving me? This is not a bomb? It will not kill?”

“Oh, it will most certainly kill. I was just about to give away how to stop it. And you are my enemy. I will not share secrets with an enemy.”

“Well, that is stupid. Why am I your enemy? Why would we not help each other get out of this mess? If there is something about stopping the bomb from hurting us, why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“As I said, you are the enemy.”

“Well, right now, we’re not. Seems like we’re walking along chatting just fine. No fighting here.”

“It would make me weak to give you information. Weakens my position. Against doctrine. Against training.”

The wind whipped and ripped at their hoods. A cloud of dust was lifted to obscure them for a moment. With lips tight and eyes closed, they waited for it to clear.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone about being nice to each other if you don’t. And these gauntlets of yours. Have I seen them somewhere before?”

“We have never met.”

“Then why do you follow me?”

“I wasn’t following you. I was following your tracks.”

“Does that sound stupid to you, too?”

She shook her head in frustration. “No, it’s not. They weren’t your tracks—impressions left in the sand. I was on the trail of the Wayfinder. My reasoning tells me that her tracks were drifted over, changed by the wind, and you were on the same trail as the Wayfinder. And now you have her staff. I don’t care how you took her staff or, more likely, found it. What only matters is that staff.”

She pointed forward. “And I already told you, I met no one on the trail. You were the first person I met. She is the second. And that is my staff. But your gauntlets. I remember them. Where did you get them?”

“My father had his counsellor make them for me. It is said the staff can be dangerous to wield. I have trained since I was young, and since I was older, I began training specifically to wield the staff. My father will pull all the towers down, and I will use that staff to open them. We will use the knowledge they contain for the betterment of The People.”

“Wow. Big goals ahead for you then.”

“You attempt to ridicule me. You are a foolish weakling who will, too, be discarded if you do not support the way of The People. The staff is mine now.”

“Ah. It still looks to me like it belongs to the kid with the bomb.”

“I will attempt to distract her through discussion once again. When I do, you—”

Stolen story; please report.

“I don’t think so. I remember how it went the last time you tried talking to her. That squealing metal noise started up again, and you backed away real quick.”

“She is a volatile one, I must admit. Strong with purpose. Admirable.”

“I have a memory from when I wore this bracelet.” She ran her hand through her hair. She had clasped her long hair in the small bracelet, and now she let it lay down the front of her shoulder. “Mirch was a man from my childhood. He was extremely intelligent. He was one that travelled with me and my mother. He used to talk to me constantly. He taught me many things. Everyone was speaking at the time, around the campfires at night, how they had pulled down the eastern tower. He thought it was a great feat of engineering. All the boats they floated, tied to the tower, and were sunk. He said afterwards, when it was done, he was ashamed and left The People.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I guess. I don’t know. Everyone seems old when you are a child. But I don’t remember him as being quite that old. Regardless, you need to leave the towers alone. They were constructed for The Great Reclamation by the people in the before times. He said that day when he saw the city of glass crash into the ocean, it changed him from a great engineer in The People’s Army to a foolish child filled with shame and he walked away. You need to leave the towers alone and me and my staff alone.”

“No. This young one will soon tire. Then I will secure the grenade and take the staff back to my father.”

“I don’t see you carrying anything but that heavy armour. No pack. No water skin. You won’t last long.”

“I can last far longer than you can imagine.”

“You can’t continue without water, so you also plan on taking that too?”

Her words once again were met with silence.

“You need me. We have to work together. You will compromise if you expect help from me.”

“No. You join me. You give that staff freely to The People. You do not oppose me. I will speak kindly of your efforts to my father. He will reward you.”

“I don’t think you guys sound like the type of people I would want to help. Mirch said you persecuted those not like you. Hunted them. Killed them.”

“If they do not help The People freely, they are made to help. They are fed and watered. We do what is right for the betterment of the valley. To allow other creatures to thrive in the valley decreases our chances. The beasts take food and shelter that belongs to our people. We have made it clear, erected edicts, posted notices of intent for the betterment of The People. We are not barbarians like the fool Wayfarers that traipse aimlessly across the desert without purpose, with no care if beasts or mutants take over the valley and displace mankind.”

“I can remember Mirch teaching me how to play cards. He taught me all the games. Then, he taught me how to do tricks. I liked the tricks the most. I became good at them. I could spin the cards like magic. I can remember his eyes glinting and him laughing in the night. He loved when I did the card tricks he taught me. He said I was so much better at them than he was. The cards didn’t change as I grew older. The same assortment of cards in the decks.” She took the card from her sash with the words scratched, “The staff is yours.”

“Why do you talk of cards?”

“Because you always talk of weakness. Don’t you realize to exclude so many cards from your deck makes you weak? You need everyone to help survive and settle the valley. Mirch and my mother, when I was a young girl, taught me all are accepted, all are given a drink of water, and the only rule is the golden rule.”

“Those who do not join us stand in the way of progress.”

The girl in front of them stopped. They stopped. She turned, faced them, held a hand up with a “halt” gesture, and dipped her head to pull her water skin from her belt. Keeping her eye on them, she slipped the small metal sphere into its silver pouch and took a drink from her skin.

“We talk too much, and it has made me thirsty.” She pulled the water skin from her sash and took a drink of the warm water, then offered the skin as they walked. The other shook her head.

“Don’t be foolish. I am offering. Take a drink.” The other hesitated, then reached out for the skin and drank. “Just imagine how we all would have marvelled at the glory of The People if the effort of building some airship would have been put instead into providing clean water for everyone in the valley.”

The other stared at her and wiped her mouth.

“’There is no benefit in remembering the drink from yesterday,’” she replied.

“I have heard this before. It is wrong. The soul remembers.”

“There is no soul. There is only survival for The People.”

She turned away, frustrated, and walked towards the girl, hands up.

“Let me at least look at your face. I am worried that it will get worse. Let me look at it. Maybe there is something I can do.”

The girl had stopped, and turned, and was watching while they drank. She offered her the water skin, but she only shook her head “no.”

The face was stern. Drawn and thin and wise looking for one so young. Grey features sharp over cheeks and jaw. Very pretty. Dark pools for eyes. A beautiful little desert girl, maybe a few years older than she looked. Either too slight of frame or possibly malnourished or sick with something.

“You should let her weaken. It would be better for both of us.”

“I would never do such a thing,” she replied, slipping her water skin back onto her sash.

“Right. Your story about using the full deck of cards. This one is the enemy. She takes from you, yet you try to aid her. Tell me, what type of playing card is she?”

“She is a resilient one, and unique.”

“All the more reason to crush her.”

She turned on her, infuriated.

“Tell me, has no one ever cared for you? There must be someone who helps you. Dresses your wounds. Do they—”

“What did you just say?”

“Can not foes aid each other if they share—”

“No. You said… You said there must be…”

“There must be someone who helps you. Dresses your wounds.”

“’… cares for you. Maybe someone you talk to. Someone that won’t tell your secrets…’”

The air whipped and lifted the sand into another obscuring torrent that ripped at their cloaks. It was growing much colder.

“A girl at the Wayfarer camp spoke these exact words to me last night… your book, you said it held memories? Why? So you could remember who you are?”