It felt like she was inside an oven with how hot and dry it was. The sun beat down mercilessly, so intense she could barely see. Claire and Farron both ended up using their cloaks as makeshift headscarves to help provide some protection from the baking heat. Though the caravan traveled mostly by night, there were a few stretches too treacherous to pass by moonlight, so they had to brave the daylight hours. Water flasks were running low and sand was getting everywhere, making the experience just that much more unpleasant.

“Where is it that you are heading, my friend?” said a slight man walking next to Farron.

The elf walked a couple paces in front of her, almost every inch of his fair skin hidden from the waning sun, making him seem even more intimidating, which she hadn’t known was even possible. Claire just felt silly in her getup. Farron tilted his head, looking at the man. Then he glanced back at her.

“We haven’t decided, quite yet.” He left it at that, being purposefully elusive.

Not that she could blame him. They would be foolish to trust these people, even if they had taken them into their caravan.

It also helped that it was sort of the truth. The wall had only pointed to a vague area in the desert. She supposed it was up to her to pinpoint the actual location using her magic. But with the silver bands on her, it was proving to be more difficult than she had thought. And she didn’t know if it was worth the risk to take them off. But they might not have much of a choice if they wanted to actually find the place. What would they discover when they did locate it? Would it be just as simple as finding the piece of spell? Or were there more trials in wait?

She was hoping for the former but knew that it probably wouldn’t be that easy.

Farron slowed his pace to wait for her, and the man walked ahead without them, getting the hint.

“Anything yet?” he asked, his voice low.

She shook her head. He was growing eager to leave the caravan, for more than one reason. Tension vibrated through him, the Ice Prince mask appearing more and more over the last few days. And she couldn’t blame him. She had been keeping her distance from him, sleeping in separate tents, not touching much after the first night in the caravan. It would do no good to offend the people giving them safe passage through the desert. But that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it. Though, it was sort of gratifying seeing how it affected Farron. She’d seen the effects, of course, in the past, when she’d broken things off with him. The lingering looks, the longing, the tension, but it seemed so much more amplified now, knowing that they both wanted each other, but not being able to do anything about it. It was thrilling in its own right.

Farron just sighed, a low sound escaping him, almost a growl. Yes, very frustrated.

A smile tugged at her lips and she reached for his hand. But as soon as their skin touched, he pulled away.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “That’s probably not a good idea.” He grinned. “For more than one reason.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, making them redder than they already were. “I hope we find the place soon, then.”

He gave a short laugh and continued ahead of her.

Daydreams occupied her mind for the rest of the day, as the sun gave way to night and relieved them of the scorching heat, of sneaking out after everyone had gone to sleep for a midnight tryst with the elf. Or maybe running off together, or—well, there were too many scenarios involving him and she wondered if she were slowly going mad. She remembered a time when she had wanted to run away from him, not with him. She smiled. Perhaps she had gone mad already.

They traveled well into the night. Claire pulled her cloak down around her, feeling the chill of the dark. The temperature extremes were too drastic for her to ever get used to. It was almost routine by now, when they stopped, she would help the women with the cooking and setting up, Farron with the men, doing manly things. Then they slept in groups in the tents on itchy rugs. She didn’t get much rest, not with the snoring and the whispering between the other girls. They asked her questions about the elf, about the world, about what they were doing in the desert. Claire tried to be as vague as Farron, but she found herself slipping occasionally, giving away more than she’d intended. Nothing too important, however. They asked about the mark, and Claire fell back on her original lie, that it was a custom in her homeland. She thought about adding the rest on, about being engaged, just for fun, but she figured that would bring more trouble with this group than it was worth.

Another two days passed. Claire tossed and turned during the night, morning just a few short hours away. Exasperated, she got up and walked around the camp. She didn’t like the desert and she just wanted it to be done with. How did Razi stand it out here?

The only redeeming quality was the massive, star-filled sky. She stood on the edge of camp, the fire dimmed down to embers, and tilted her head back to take it all in. It made her feel small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes to revel in the coolness before the sun rose again. She let her body relax, her guard down and opened up herself to magic, searching for any hint of it out there in the vast sand dunes. The silver bands grew warm, as they did whenever her magic stirred inside of her, extinguishing it just as fast. She let it, waiting for it to quell inside of her completely, then pictured a door in her mind and pushing it, slowly, easing it wider, opening her senses up, disregarding everything else. It was only her and the magic. Somewhere out there.

She turned slowly, searching, waiting for a spark, anything. It hadn’t worked before when she’d tried, and perhaps it wouldn’t work at all, not with the silver contraption on her. She thought about unlocking it, maybe just one band—would that work? Or would it be too risky? They couldn’t wander the desert forever.

Her hand was reaching for the key on the chain around her neck when she felt it. It was small, but it was something. She froze, concentrating on the sensation. A faint tingling feeling played along the edge of her mind, pulling, like the water in the Haven and the stone fragment. Her eyes flew open.

“There!” she exclaimed in a whisper, hoping she didn’t wake anyone. Though she was tempted to wake Farron, she didn’t think it would look good if they just left without saying a word. No, she should wait, see if he felt anything too. But it was a start. A beacon of hope.

 

“Do you feel it?” she asked, impatience making her feet dance slightly in the sand.

Farron stood with his eyes closed, the sun burning high above. The camp was slowly coming to life around them, rising later in the day than usual, preferring to sleep as much as they could through the heat. A few men gave them curious looks but went about their business.

He frowned. “I don’t,” he said. “But I might not be able to feel it regardless.”

Claire nodded. That would make sense. It wouldn’t be much of a secret if anyone could sense the magic coming from it.

“You need to be sure, Claire.” He opened his eyes and leveled them at her. “We can’t afford to be wrong, not out here.”

She chewed the inside of her lip, her anxiety growing within her. He was right. They didn’t have enough supplies to last them for too long out in the desert. Once they left the caravan, they were on their own. But there was no mistaking the feeling of it—the pulling—the captivating draw of magic. It had grown a little stronger since she’d first sensed it like it had locked onto her, a fish caught on the hook.

“It’s there,” she whispered.

“All right.” Farron glanced around, then settled his gaze back on her, the beginnings of a grin touching his lips. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome here, no?”

“And here I was just getting used to it,” she teased.

His smile faded a little, a spark flaring in his eyes. He leaned closer to her, his body almost brushing against hers, just close enough for her to feel the vibrating tension. Her breath caught. She wanted to reach out to him, touch him, but forced herself not to. She swallowed hard, trying to dampen her desire. The effort must have shown on her face.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered, and it slithered over her body.

He had called her bluff a little too easily. As always. “What are we going to tell them?” She nodded to the men taking down the tents, the women passing out breakfast.

Farron shrugged. “We don’t have to tell them anything.”

Blunt, of course. She opened her mouth to protest but stopped. Perhaps he had a point? Whatever they decided to tell them, the nomads would suspect something regardless. They already did. It wasn’t every day that an elf and a woman with a strange mark on her arm showed up in the desert.

“All right,” she said. “We’ll try it your way.” He had been doing things like this for much longer than she had, after all.

He gave her a skeptical look. It wasn’t like her to just give in to him without putting up some sort of fight.

She simply didn’t have it in her to be stubborn over every little thing anymore. Or was she just learning to trust him more? The thought struck her hard. But it was the truth. “I trust you.”

The uncertain look melted into a smile and he nodded. “The heat must be getting to you.”

Another possibility. She playfully nudged him as she walked passed to go get some breakfast. They had a lot of preparations to do if they were going to leave the safety of the caravan. Worry stirred with excitement within her, along with a growing anticipation. What would they discover out there in the sand? Would they be all right all by themselves? How long would they last before pouncing on each other?

 

After breakfast, they lounged beneath the tents with the rest of the people, listening to stories, answering questions with vague responses. Neither of them told the caravan that they were leaving. Not yet. Claire was hoping Farron would be the one to handle that task. He was a much better liar than her by far.

They exchanged glances throughout the day, a fire slowly building between them, the anticipation growing. Almost so much so her body became jittery, and she was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else. Never before had she felt like this, the wanting, lusting—not for the General, nor her betrothed. It was entirely new, but she didn’t hate it. Far from it.

When the sun was on its descent, Farron came to her. “Make sure you have everything ready,” he said. “We’ll leave at dusk.” There was a strained edge to his voice, his movements tense.

Claire’s mouth ran dry and she could only nod. She might be the one doing the pouncing after all.

Time passed too slowly for her liking. The sun seemed to be stuck in the sky. She made sure she had everything, filled the flasks and took some extra provisions. The women looked at her with curious eyes, and Claire gave one of the elder women a few coins for the supplies and for giving them shelter, thanking her. Before the woman could ask her, Claire shuffled away.

She was checking the tack and saddles on the horses when Farron approached her, his bag in tow. The blue in the sky was darkening and the first stars shone like pinpricks.

“Ready?” he asked, but his voice was loaded with anticipation and darker things.

A shiver ran through her. She nodded.

He led the way out into the desert, toward the direction she’d indicated earlier. Claire glanced behind her to see the confused faces of the people of the caravan. A man shook his head slowly, frowning. Surely he thought they were riding out to their deaths. Perhaps they were. But Claire had to think more positively than that.

It seemed to take forever for them to get out of sight of the caravan. Even when they finally did so, Farron continued to walk ahead of her, his pace unwavering. The tension rose sharply with each minute that passed. Was he teasing her? Seeing who would break first?

Growing frustrated, she hurried her pace to catch up to him. Fine, she would just be the loser of that game. She dropped the reins of her horse and grabbed his arm, pulling him around.

He looked down at her, surprise on his face, a sly grin slipping into place. “I was wondering how long it would take.”

“Shut up,” she said, digging her hand into his cloak to draw him down to her.

He dropped the reins to his horse and then he was on her, his kiss smothering, his presence hot and buzzing along her body.

She pulled him back away from the horses, stripping off articles of clothing, leaving a trail in the sand. He somehow maneuvered his cloak off and behind her, letting it fall to the ground before pushing her down onto it.

What a gentleman. But the rest of his actions proved otherwise.

 

The horizon was just showing the first sunlight when the rock outcroppings seemed to rise from the sand. And they were in the direction that the magical pull was drawing them toward. It had grown stronger and stronger as the night wore on. As much as they would have liked to linger, entangled in each other under the stars, they knew they couldn’t.

“Let’s hope there’s some shelter there.” Farron motioned toward the rocks.

Claire nodded. They wouldn’t be able to reach it before the sun rose fully and she wasn’t looking forward to it. “Do you still not feel anything?” she asked, curious.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

By the time they reached the rocks, it was almost midday. Claire was trying to preserve her flask, ration it out, but it was a losing battle. She was just so thirsty, her body tired from trekking all night through loose sand—and other activities. The draw was so strong now that her body buzzed with the sensation, the bands warm on her arm as her magic continually stirred and quelled inside her, like a pulsing storm just waiting to explode out and swallow her whole. Sweat drenched her body. If there was one thing that she knew for certain, it was that she hated the desert. She would take an endless sea of water over one of sand any day.

They found an overhang that provided some shade and drew the horses underneath it, cupping their hands so the animals could drink from their meager water reserves.

“Sorry, girl.” Claire stroked Azra’s head. It was a wonder how well they had kept up, and she hoped that the journey wouldn’t prove to be too much for them.

“We should rest here for a little bit. Cool off.” Farron was stroking his horse.

She definitely wouldn’t argue with that. After making sure the horses were fed and watered, they settled down on their laid out cloaks and fell asleep quickly.