When I awoke, I had no idea what time it was. The caves had a way of concealing the hour so that you never knew what was going on above ground.
But while I was awake, my muscles weren’t. They pulled taut with every tiny movement I made. A pang of hunger raced through my stomach. I curled inward until the pain stopped.
When I swallowed, my tongue stuck in my throat.
Ignoring the flashes of pain in my legs, I rolled myself up and went in search of water and food.
I ducked out of my alcove and nearly ran into Cion.
“I was just coming to wake you,” he said. “The sun’s already well up.”
“Are we not training today then?” I prayed the answer was yes.
“Not outside,” he said. “There’s a sandstorm raging. That’s why I didn’t wake you earlier. We can practice in the cavern instead.” He gestured down the tunnel, but my eyes were too busy following the spiked kana fruit in his hand.
“Hungry?” he asked when he saw me looking.
I nodded.
He tossed me the fruit. “You’ll get used to that.”
I devoured it, not even able to slow myself enough to savor it, as I followed him to the large cavern where I’d first seen Hardesh.
Pairs of boys were practicing with wooden swords. The clacks of each hit echoed through the room.
“Higher, Adem,” Cion called to one boy who had his sword so low I wasn’t sure how he was managing to block anything.
Maybe that explained why when he called out his thanks to Cion, both his front teeth were missing.
“Do you teach all of them?” I asked.
“I train a few. They in turn train a few, who then teach others. Anyone who knows even one skill well can teach someone else. We use every resource we have.”
A cry went up, and Cion ran toward where a boy had collapsed.
“Bring water,” Cion called.
Dimic ran to fetch a bucket. Cion gently cradled the boy, and when Dimic returned he ladled water down his throat, careful not to spill a drop. The boy’s eyes slowly fluttered open.
“Rest today,” Cion said. “Take an extra water ration tonight.”
The boy shook his head. “No, Cion. I’m stronger than that.”
“No one is strong enough to go without water, and the people are counting on us to bring water to them. We can’t do that if we’re not strong enough.”
The boy lowered his gaze and nodded.
“Everyone, take a break,” Cion called as he rose to his feet.
Hardesh was sitting against the wall not far from the boy who’d passed out. A visibly pregnant woman I recalled was named Tania sat next to him, trying to coax him to eat some bread.
His eyes, which didn’t seem to focus on anything, went wide when he saw me. His arm rose and shook, pointing at me as though I were a phantom that the others might not see. Several of the veins in his arm still carried the yellow coloring typical of yellow-spotted sand snake bites.
“Calm down,” Tania soothed, sending me a scolding look. She wasn’t much older than I was, but she was beautiful, with large, dark eyes that went along with her shining hair. She took Hardesh’s hand and made soothing noises.
“She’s come for me,” he said. He tried to scramble to his feet. Tania easily held him down.
“It’s okay.” I held up my hands in what I hoped was a nonthreatening gesture. “I’m not going to hurt you.” When he didn’t go into hysterics again, I went on. “I’m sorry about what happened in the arena.”
He trembled and tucked himself against Tania.
“He hasn’t been right since the snake bit him,” she said. She stroked Hardesh’s hair. “He’s lucky he survived at all. Most don’t. It’s a testament to his strength.” She actually smiled at me, and I wondered if she had any idea who I was. “Soon he’ll start having more good days than bad. And right now, that’s all we can ask for.” She had one hand around Hardesh and one around her stomach.
I couldn’t stand to look at Hardesh, to see how quickly the desert had knocked him down. How quickly I’d written him off.
Cion picked up a practice sword and tossed it to me, shaking me from my thoughts.
We moved away from Tania and Hardesh and took up battle positions.
“I’m used to fighting with a shield,” I said.
He nodded toward the daggers strapped in my laces. “You’d be better with one of those in your other hand. A shield will only protect you from one or two of Rodric’s blows. He’ll target it, and once he’s ripped it away from you, you’ll be left exposed. That’s why I was able to get your sword away from you so quickly when we met at the well. You were off balance without it. Besides, its bulk makes it harder for you to maneuver. Your strength is your nimbleness. You need to be able to move, not to stand there and take blows.”
He tossed me a small wooden dagger. It was smaller and lighter than the ones strapped to my calves. I felt exposed without my shield.
“From now on, think about your sword as both shield and sword. You’ve got the muscle to stand up to the force of Rodric’s attacks. Your dagger should go in for the killing blow. Like this.”
He grabbed a practice sword and charged toward me. I met his blow, but I didn’t see the wooden dagger he produced from behind his back until it was already ramming into my ribs.
“Ooof,” I cried out and stumbled backward.
“Effective, right?” Cion said.
The pain in my ribs proved his point.
“How much training have you done with your daggers?” he asked as I straightened.
“I use them only if I lose my shield or sword. They buy me time until I can get back whatever I lost.”
Cion appeared to mull this over. “As far as I know, Rodric doesn’t carry a dagger on him. He thinks his sword is enough. It takes patience to learn two weapons, patience he doesn’t have, which is why he probably never taught you to use them properly. That’ll be another advantage you’ll have over him. He won’t be expecting to face you with two weapons in your hands.”
As much as I missed having my shield to grip onto, Cion was right. I was going to need new skills, new surprises, if I was to win the throne.
“Here,” Cion said, “stand like this.” He moved behind me and tapped my right thigh until I brought it forward. Then his arms were on my shoulders, angling my right side forward as well. It felt all wrong. I was used to leading with my left side, letting my shield take a blow while I wielded my sword with my right.
There was no way I could learn an entirely new stance in less than a month.
I whipped my head around to see if there was another way. His face was so close to mine. His eyes lingered, the golden flecks gleaming even in the low light.
For a moment I forgot what I was going to say.
“Something wrong?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up in puzzlement.
“I’m . . . I’m used to standing the other way,” I stammered. I dropped my gaze.
“I know. And so is Rodric. Remember what I said about your sword functioning as your shield now too? You have to lead with that side. Try attacking me with your dagger,” Cion said, moving in front of me.
I tightened my grip on the dagger and mimicked the move Cion had demonstrated. He ducked out of the way easily.
Then he swung back around. I barely blocked his attack. He was faster than anyone I’d ever seen. By the time I remembered to bring up my dagger, he was already spiraling away, knocking my feet out from under me as he went.
I landed with a thud on my back. A haze of sand puffed up around me. Cion waved it away and offered me an arm.
“Try again.”
I accepted his hand and repositioned myself like he’d taught me.
It took me three or four tries before I even grazed his side with my dagger.
“Not bad for the famed Achran Flower,” Cion said, and I couldn’t help the blush that crept across my cheeks.
We spent the next hour practicing a variety of moves meant to test my skill with a dagger. Toward the end, Cion knocked my sword away. He tossed another wooden dagger toward me, and we resumed the fight. If fighting with one dagger had been hard, fighting with two was worse.
After stripping me of both daggers for the fifth time, we took a break. I collapsed next to Tania while Cion went to fetch us both a sip of water.
“You fight well,” she said. Hardesh had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. “I hope you will have the strength to do what so many others have failed to.”
I was pretty sure she was talking about Rodric, but it sounded like more. Like she was talking about everything. Rodric. The people. The water restrictions.
“That’s why I sought out Cion,” I said, unable to stop the image of Cion’s star-riddled eyes from popping into my mind.
“Is it?” she said, her eyebrows rising in question. “Are you sure it wasn’t to protect yourself?”
My eyes jumped to hers. She hid a quiet strength behind her tiny frame.
“I’m here to protect everyone from Rodric taking over Achra. I thought you of all people would understand why no one wants that to happen.” I couldn’t keep my eyes from going to her swelling belly.
“I do,” she said, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Just remember that Cion has as much at stake here as you. He’s putting his hope in you, and hope is a resource more valuable than water.”
“I won’t let them down.”
She eyed me. “Remember that when you’re playing tiger queen back in your palace.”
When Cion appeared with a ladle of water, I gulped it down quickly, eager to get back to training. But Tania’s words clung to me like sweat. Would I let them down? The water controls didn’t exist. I couldn’t change that. All I could do was deal with Rodric and better ration water after I was named queen—and rule as best I could.
Still, I cast a glance over my shoulder at Tania as I joined Cion again. Her eyes were on me.
I turned away and focused on the task Cion had just given me. He wanted to give my muscles a break, so we were practicing how to evade an attack when you had no weapon. He taught me how to roll across the sand like he did and how to skim my hands along the surface, looking for any hidden rocks I could use for weapons as I went.
We’d just finished an exercise on keeping your eyes on your opponent while searching for a viable weapon when one of the hidden entrances to the cavern was thrown open.
A small boy was blown in by a wave of sand. Cion rushed over to drag him away from the door and pulled it closed.
The boy coughed and collapsed in a pile. It was Yeri.
Cion turned him on his back. “What were you doing out there in that?” He motioned to the storm raging outside.
Sand clung to Yeri’s exposed skin, making him appear paler.
“I was visiting my mom,” he said. “I was going to wait for the storm to end, but I had to get the news to you. I ran across the desert to tell you.”
“What news?”
“The king’s cut water rations down to half a bucket a day.” Yeri sucked in deep breaths and scrunched his face in pain. “That’s barely enough to make one loaf of bread for a family. As soon as the storm’s over, there will be rioting at the wells.”
Other Desert Boys had stopped their training and gathered around.
“Half a bucket a day?” I said, although no one was paying attention to me. I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts. The Desert Boys hadn’t gone to the wells today, and they’d barely taken any water during the raid two days ago. There was no reason to cut rations. Unless the drought was getting worse.
Or unless my father was using the Desert Boys as an excuse to ration water, to make them dependent on him like Cion had said. And if that was true, maybe it wasn’t far off to believe there might actually be water controls somewhere to make sure people stayed under his power.
I shook my head. That couldn’t be true. Rations had been reduced to one bucket a day when I’d gone to the well to get water. And I’d caused a riot. A riot where I told everyone to take as much water as they wanted. They must’ve reduced our supply drastically before Rodric got things under control. That must be why my father had reduced rations.
But that meant it was my fault.
The spiked kana fruit I’d eaten weighed heavily in my stomach, and the gold cuff cut into my neck as I took a deep breath.
Or maybe this was another of Rodric’s tricks. But why would my father go along with this? Why would he make the people suffer with so little water?
A thought tore through me. Because he didn’t care if they suffered. I hadn’t cared when rations had been dropped in the past to try and tempt a raid. Because I hadn’t been the one without water. It had merely been a tactic. We’d been using our people as pawns. Like in Skips, we’d been reckless, sacrificing a few of our own pieces if it meant winning later.
But the games had to stop. Too many lives were at stake.
Another boy with a nose too big for his face pushed toward Cion and spoke, pulling me from my thoughts. “My family wasn’t able to get any water yesterday because of the line. They won’t survive on half a bucket. My sister’s sick with fever.”
“Did you see how many guards were at any of the wells?” Cion said to Yeri.
“Around twenty at the one I was at before the sandstorm hit. There might be more after the drop in rations though.”
Cion sighed and rubbed his temples. “We were going to do another raid before the next caravan anyway, and we still need to deliver the water we weren’t able to last time.”
“But the king’s going to be there,” Yeri stammered.
Now it was my turn to push through the circle of boys. “The king?” He never went amongst the people. That’s what Rodric was for. If my father was coming, something had to be very, very wrong.
Despite the sweat dotting my skin, goose bumps shot across my arms as my body went cold.
“He’s going to make some sort of announcement from each well this afternoon.”
Cion’s eyes searched out mine. I had no idea what my father was up to. All I knew was that it wasn’t going to be good for us—especially if Rodric was the one advising him now. If he’d already cut water rations, I didn’t know what else he was planning. Was the drought truly worsening? Did it have to do with me running away? Was he simply going to hand the throne to Rodric?
“Good work, Yeri,” Cion said. He moved to help him sit up, but Yeri cried out.
Cion bent low over Yeri. He pushed back Yeri’s hair and scraped sand from his forehead. A pale yellow taint had taken hold underneath Yeri’s skin. It slowly spread down his face.
“Bring the spiral cactus juice,” Cion cried. Feet took off, pounding into the sand. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Cion said, his fingers digging into Yeri’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Cion,” Yeri said. His chest shook with each word. “I was running so fast and sand was blowing everywhere. I didn’t see the hole until it was too late. I was hoping maybe I’d just stepped on a spiral cactus.”
Cion dropped his head against Yeri’s chest. “It’s okay.” He pulled himself up and looked Yeri in the eye. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Here.” Another boy shoved a clay jar toward Cion. He tipped a green liquid into Yeri’s mouth.
Yeri choked and gagged.
Dimic stood next to me. He bit his lower lip so hard I thought it would bleed.
“Is that what you gave Hardesh?” I asked him.
He nodded.
“So it’ll cure Yeri?” We were supposed to play another game of Hands of Thieves. He was going to be all right. He had to be.
When Dimic looked up at me, tears clung to the corners of his eyes. “Hardesh is bigger. It takes the poison longer to kill him. It’s why us smaller boys have to be so careful. There’s not always time.”
My eyes swung to Yeri. His chest barely rose and fell. His lips had gone yellow. The veins in his arm had already turned from yellow to black. “What are you saying?”
Dimic didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
With one rattling inhale, Yeri stopped breathing.
I waited for Cion to do something, to give him more of the liquid, to save him somehow. He simply held Yeri close to his chest, staying in that position for a long time. No one else moved.
Finally, Tania appeared with a blanket. “Let me.” She put her arm on Cion’s shoulder, pulling him away.
Gently, she wrapped Yeri’s small frame in the blanket.
Cion exhaled loudly and tilted his head back to stare at the cave ceiling. “Bring the wood,” he said quietly.
A few boys disappeared and reappeared moments later with stacks of wood. They arranged it in a row in the middle of a ring of rocks.
Cion picked up Yeri’s body and laid it on the wood. All the Desert Boys moved forward in unison, as though they’d practiced the movement, circling the ring of rocks.
Cion picked up a handful of sand. “May the sand you walked on in life cradle you in death.” He scattered the handful across the top of the blanket.
The lanky boy next to him picked up another handful. “May the warmth of the sand never depart your soul.” Sand skittered across Yeri’s body.
Boy after boy around the circle sent Yeri off with one handful of sand and one last wish for happiness. They stopped midway around the circle. It took me a moment to figure out why. They were all looking at me.
I was standing back from the circle. Cion gestured to Yeri, inviting me to say something.
I started to shake my head. I wasn’t part of this. I didn’t want to intrude on their grief. But I stopped myself. Maybe if I hadn’t started the riot at the well . . . If I’d never run away . . . I owed Yeri something.
I moved forward. The boys closest to me scooted aside to make room for me in the circle. I scooped up a palmful of sand and weighed it in my hand.
“May your spirit be freer than the sands of the desert.” I sprinkled the sand over Yeri’s still form. It wasn’t as personal a message as some of the other boys’, but it reminded me of my mother and her sand dancing, about how the sand could go anywhere it pleased. It was as much as I could offer him now. But it didn’t stop me from wondering what I could’ve done to prevent this from happening.
Once everyone had said their blessing, Cion took one of the torches from the wall and lit the logs beneath Yeri’s body. “May your spirit burn brighter than the sun.”
I blinked as smoke twirled around us. I hadn’t realized they were going to burn the body now, so soon. They’d waited three days to burn my mother, but out in the heat of the desert, bodies rotted faster. A quick funeral was kinder, it seemed.
A few boys cried. The rest took it in stride, as if this were a regular occurrence. Maybe it was.
Only once the fire had consumed the blanket and figure inside did Cion open one of the panels leading to outside, letting the smoke out. A snarl of sand roared in on us. It twisted around me, stinging my hands, my face, my legs. The boys didn’t flinch. Their eyes stayed glued to the flames that the rush of sand was slowly extinguishing, leaving behind nothing but charred ashes.
Cion shut the panel. The last bit rained down as the swirling sand cut off.
“Yeri brought us this information, and we will use it,” Cion said. “Get ready for a raid.”
The boys who’d been stoic a moment before leapt into action now that they had their orders. No one stopped to question Cion or to wonder if they were walking right into a trap. I pushed through the throng of boys lacing up sandals and shoving daggers into belts.
“It’s too risky to go into the city,” I told Cion. “It could be one of Rodric’s ploys.”
He moved to shove past me. “Yeri died bringing us this news. I won’t let it go to waste.”
“You can’t be serious about going out in that storm.” He had to see that more boys would die. “And do you really think it’s a good idea to raid after they’ve just lost a friend?” I gestured to the boys around me.
Cion clenched his jaw. “These boys see more death in a month then you’ve probably seen in your whole life.” His voice took on a darker undertone. “Haven’t you ever wondered why most of the Desert Boys are so young? Most don’t make it. For them, death is a way of life. Losing Yeri makes them want to fight more, not less.”
I swallowed. It was clear he was trying to conceal his pain in anger, and it was clouding his judgment. “The wells will be clogged with people. It’ll be impassible.”
“The people will let us through and keep the guards away.”
“The guards—”
“We can handle the guards.” He stared me down. “Now, have you run out of excuses why we shouldn’t take more of your precious water?”
“I . . . I . . .” I didn’t know what to say. That wasn’t it at all. I didn’t want to watch more Desert Boys die. Watching Yeri die had woken something up within me, something I didn’t want to name. It came to me anyway: Guilt. And shame.
I’d once again had it thrown in my face that I hadn’t been taking care of my mother’s people. I’d been ignoring them, looking past their dirty faces and thinning frames to blame the Desert Boys instead of doing anything to truly help them. I’d seen their thin bodies and chapped lips, but they had been as normal as the sand stretching around us. But Yeri dying wasn’t normal. It took his small form rasping for breath to remind me what I should’ve been fighting for all along.
I had failed my mother so profoundly that it felt like the sandstorm raging outside had found its way under my skin and was tearing me apart.
Cion turned away from me toward the boys. “Everyone, grab a bucket. As soon as the storm diminishes, we’ll need to steal as much as we can.”
The boys accepted Cion’s words and flew into a flurry of movement once more.
I stood alone with my thoughts. Was it better to raid the wells? Is that what would help my people most? If the townspeople supported them, there had to be something to it.
It was high time I found out for sure and actually started taking care of my people.
“Where are the buckets?” I asked.
Cion turned back toward me. “You’re not coming.”
“You can’t face twenty guards and carry away water with only a few boys.”
“We know what we’re doing, and there are more of us than you think,” Cion said while shoving a knife into his belt, next to his sword.
“You made me a Desert Boy,” I countered. “I’m one of you. You know I can fight.”
“But can you fight your own kind?” Cion said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll be fighting your own guards. Can you can draw your blade against them, to kill them if necessary? Can you put the life of a Desert Boy above the life of one of your guards?”
I opened my mouth to speak but hesitated. Could I draw my blade against Sievers? I’d fought the other guards at the well, but I hadn’t given them grievous injuries. They were just following commands, as misguided as those commands were.
When I didn’t respond, Cion answered for me. “I didn’t think so.”
“The guards are simply following orders.” I realized now how many must follow those orders for the extra water rations. They were choosing to follow Rodric because it’s what it took to keep their families alive.
“Rodric’s orders. It’s either the guards or the families dying of thirst,” he said. “You can’t save both.”
But maybe I could. I had to.
“Let me be a distraction,” I said suddenly. “My presence will throw off the guards. I’m sure at least a few of them would follow me once I revealed who I am. I could lead them away from the well while you go in and steal the water.”
Cion paused. He was studying me, weighing it all in his mind.
“All right,” he finally said. “You can come.”