The desert lay still under the reds and oranges of dusk. The hawk’s telescoping eyes reached far beyond its small patrol area, picking out each weathered rock, bleached bone, and animal daring to peek out of its hiding place.

One such animal, a pale desert mouse, caught the hawk’s full attention. It had abandoned a young rabbit earlier, then a small snake. Each new denial of prey strengthened its desire to hunt. The hawk veered off course toward the small animal.

Wait.

The thought penetrated its mind, sharp and direct. It pulled back on course with a frustrated screech, but did not fight the force resting in its mind. The voice brought comfort, brought food. Yet so did desert mice.

In time.

A heat swell rose from the sands, catching the hawk’s wings and sending it soaring with little effort. More desert stretched before it. It did not understand what it was looking for, if not food, but it obeyed. Finally, as dusk gave way to night, the force in its head faded away. When more prey appeared from a burrow, nothing held the hawk back.

*****

Lilau gasped as her essence flooded back into her body. She hadn’t practiced the ritual since leaving Feechi, and as the force of her return sparked the flame in her core, she regretted it. Fortunately, she had practiced releasing essence quite a lot.

She fought against her chest’s desire to expand, slowing it down even as it cried out for more air. The growing flames slowed with it. With her breath even, the cooling roots of the ground were easy to find. The flames rushed deep into the earth and dissipated.

Lilau opened her eyes to face the hawk effigy she’d created over the last moon. Carved from soft wood, feathers and fluff gathered at the wings, a path in time marking Keefin’s growth from eyass to fledgeling.

Makotae snuffled at her hair, a comforting beacon as he lay wrapped around Lilau. Welcome back.

“What did you see?”

Macien’s sharp demand cut through the residual fog in Lilau’s mind. “Nothing but a few small animals.”

The crowd behind her immediately broke their silence as they clamored for Macien’s attention. Lilau grimaced. She was glad Macien had kept the dozen remnants of the Silent Hunters quiet during the ritual, but the rapid return to noise still set Lilau’s head to aching.

Perhaps we should scout ahead in person next time, Makotae offered.

You know that’s not possible.

Yes, but I can dream. All this makes my legs itch.

Mine too.

Lilau retrieved a cloth wrap from Makotae’s saddlebags and attempted to lose herself in the sacred act of wiping and wrapping the hawk statue.

After the overwhelming success of the orbs in taking out City raiders, Macien had demanded, and when that failed, Radai had pleaded with Lilau to make more orbs to send to other camps. Even Narasten got behind the idea, bleeding more uncharged orbs at the edge of the lean-to.

With orbs in hand, the remaining camps had become unstoppable. The other towers fell, and any retaliation by the City was reduced to ash.

It had all worked perhaps a little too well. The City had withdrawn into the shell of its walls, and rumors of a dangerous counter-weapon simmered behind it. The rumors jumpstarted the outcast camps’ final push, sending them across the desert to what could be their greatest victory, or soundest defeat.

Lilau nestled the statue back into a saddlebag just in time for Radai to break from the crowd, a big grin plastered on his face. “You’re getting good at that. Still sure you can’t teach me how to do it?”

“Not unless you’ve suddenly gained the ability to speak to Fokla.”

“Well, I mean, I talk plenty. Not sure they hear any of it, though.”

Lilau raised an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips.

Radai clapped his hands together. “See? This war hasn’t sucked all the joy from the world yet, has it?”

“Lilau.” Macien’s call quieted all talking. “I need to speak with you.”

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Radai’s face fell as he leaned closer. “That one, though….”

Lilau pretended not to hear him as she made her way over to Macien. “Yes, Leader Macien?”

The crowd drew back to give the two of them extra space. It was a concession the other Silent Hunters had given Lilau since she’d created the orbs and fended off the City attackers. She couldn’t tell if it was from appreciation or fear.

“Just Macien, Lilau. Please.” She waved away the formality. “We’re closing in on the City. By the next sun’s rise, it will be in our sight.”

Lilau nodded. She, and everyone present, already knew this, but Macien planned better by talking through the obvious.

“I’ve had more messenger hawks and Great Cats come by than I care to count. The rest of the camps are similar distances away. Tomorrow brings bloodshed.” Macien squared her shoulders and locked eyes with Lilau. “Which means we need to talk about what to do if things don’t go in our favor.”

A chill ran up Lilau’s spine. The thoughts she’d been repressing slithered up to the surface. The screams of the dying, the smell of charred flesh, the feeling of hopelessness as those around her fell. Like Allak.

“If we get overwhelmed, I want you to run.”

“What?”

“I may be the leader and Weapons Master, but you are the true asset. None of this would be possible without those bombs of yours. We’d have died a moon ago in that lean-to.”

Lilau frowned.

Macien raised her hand, palm out, as if to stop the thoughts rising in Lilau’s mind. “Not that your bombs are your only worth. What I told you outside of Zayla’s tent still stands. You are one of us. You’ve also given more than I could ever ask, and deserve a chance at life outside the desert.”

Despite Macien’s platitudes, an uneasiness took hold inside Lilau. “If I’m one of you, then why do I get special treatment? Why am I supposed to run?”

“Because you know more than this desert. You have a chance. Don’t worry, the others know I won’t hold it against them if they run, too. But we are tied to this land. Staying after defeat would mean a far worse death than on the battlefield. Attempting to leave would mean being torn apart by the protectors of the other lands. I don’t fear much, Lilau, but I’d rather die by a City guard’s weapon than an invisible creature’s teeth.”

There was no guarantee the sentries would let her through, either, but Lilau kept the truth to herself. The worry shone clearly in Macien’s eyes. The Weapon Master sought solace in the idea that one of her charges would survive the coming battle.

“Fine,” Lilau said. “I understand.”

Macien sighed, a bit of tension leeching from her face. “Thank you. If the way is clear, we should get going.”

The group was moving towards their destination moments later. With the bulk of their supplies far behind them, and a Great Beast for each rider, their path was swift. The lack of shelter and cooking supplies drove home the truth of their travel — for many of the outcasts, it would be a one-way trip.

Lilau had kept that thought from sinking in by focusing on Keefin’s care and using the fledgling for scouting. As a small, grey-tan speck appeared in the sky, she focused on it once more.

Keefin had grown rapidly over the last moon, from a seven-day-old eyass to a nearly full-grown hawk. Her glossy feathers still kept some of their hatchling blotchiness, but the black stripes on her face spoke of her nearing maturity.

Lilau stretched out an arm as Makotae smoothed out his gait and slowed down. Keefin dove from the sky, alighting on Lilau’s cloth-covered forearm. As Keefin’s talons sank deeper into the cloth and pressure increased on Lilau’s arm, she grew ever more appreciative of the thick leather vambrace hidden under her robes. Radai had made it for her the day Keefin had sprouted her first proper feather. He’d etched an image of the feather into the vambrace, something Lilau admired whenever she took it off.

Radai, who had been talking rather heatedly with Macien ahead of the rest of the procession, slowed Aza until she trotted next to Makotae. Radai’s face scrunched up like he’d tasted something sour. It was a sort of game he’d been playing a lot since they’d left the lean-to. He’d stay silent, a look of stomach pain on his face, until Lilau asked him what was wrong. It seemed an overly complicated and childish way of going about things, yet it was pleasantly distracting.

She stayed quiet as she settled Keefin onto the specially made pommel of Makotae’s saddle, where the bird promptly fluffed up and closed her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lilau finally said, as Radai’s face turned an odd shade of red.

“Macien still wants me to guard the path of retreat.”

“That’s an important job.”

“It’s a pointless one, and everyone knows it. By Narasten’s mane, we’re attacking the City. We either win or die trying. Not a lot of retreating when you’re dead.”

“Maybe she’s trying to protect you. We all know how much you can’t tolerate physical work.”

“This is different.” Radai frowned. “I might not be the best fighter of the camp, of any of the camps, but that doesn’t mean I want to wait in the distance in the hopes we win. I want to help.”

“Macien told me to run, if things look bad.”

The words slipped out before Lilau could stop them. She’d thought about what it would be like for Radai to wade into the fray, how quickly he’d die, and it had simply popped into her mind.

“Oh?” Radai went quiet again, but this time it was no game.

“Maybe she told others the same. Having you keep a path open would be important.”

“I doubt any of the outcasts would bother running. But… what about you?”

“I’m… not sure.” The loudest internal voice screamed no. She’d played with the idea of leaving the Silent Hunters, and the desert, multiple times in the past, but she’d moved on. She’d decided to stay, and she stuck to her decisions. Yet telling Radai that felt wrong.

“I see. Where would you go?”

“What lies to the west of the desert?”

“Water.”

“Huh?”

“Barren water, that can neither be drank, nor used to grow plants. The water hits hot cliffs, hissing as it evaporates, and leaves a shining white layer of salt. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Everything west of the City is their territory. I’ve never been.”

“Maybe we could see it together.”

Radai’s eyes widened. “Oh… yeah. Maybe.”

They both fell silent, staying so until Keefin, done with her nap, woke up with a chitter.

Lilau ran one hand across the hawk’s soft feathers, all fear of the creature gone. Keefin chirped and leaned into the caress. Another gift from Radai.

Perhaps he’d run. If you do.

Makotae’s thoughts came with a healthy dose of curiosity. He’d noticed a shift in Lilau and was prodding for answers. She didn’t have any to give him.