CHAPTER

23

The next few days were a blur of training. We stuck to the hideout because too many guards had been spotted in the desert. It also wasn’t safe for the boys to go in and out as they used to.

It wasn’t long until everyone found the cave stifling, and water began to run low. We’d have to do another raid soon, but according to Cion’s sources, Rodric had increased the number of guards around each well and started doing random patrols along the old, crumbling city wall. At least we hadn’t heard more about the wells being cut off entirely.

Cion left me in the care of the younger boys while he went out to scout and talk to his source. We practiced sword maneuvers. Some of the boys were surprisingly good despite their small size and emaciated frames. I’d take them over the palace guards any day.

On the days Cion was there, he and I would eventually end up facing each other, attracting a ring of boys around us, which spurred Cion to fight harder so as to not make a fool of himself. Occasionally the boys rooted for me, but I think that was simply because they liked seeing someone who could go blow for blow with Cion. Though I never could beat him.

But I was getting better. Even if I couldn’t always stop his attacks, I could tell when he was actually going to hit me and when he was feinting to aim at my other side. Fighting without a shield was starting to feel more natural as well.

Most nights, I fell into my blanket exhausted and woke up with sore reminders of muscles I didn’t know I had. I’d fall asleep listening to the sound of footsteps shuffling through the sand outside my room. I learned to pick out Cion’s from all the rest. His were the quietest.

It was one such night when my eyes had just shut and sleep was speeding toward me like a sandstorm when I heard his soft patter.

I sat up.

His shadow appeared in the alcove doorway. “Your hearing’s getting better.”

“Maybe you’re just getting louder.”

He laughed, and I relaxed back against the wall. “Please don’t tell me you’ve come to take me to do some night training. I don’t think my muscles can handle it.” I already had a bruise forming on my arm where Dimic had smacked me with a wooden sword while I’d been fighting Cion. The whole exercise was supposed to show how you needed to be aware of your opponent while still noticing what was around you.

And I definitely noticed Dimic’s practice sword after it crashed into me.

“No training,” Cion said. “Now, I need your mind.”

I groaned. “I’m not sure that’s in good shape either.” I’d been trying not to think for days. Only react. And learn. Otherwise the weight of my father’s betrayal would suck me downward until sand choked off my screams.

“It’ll have to do,” he said.

I tried to stifle the moans caused by stiffness that emanated from my muscles as I stood and followed him out of the hideout into the cold night air. I would’ve thought it would be refreshing after so many days cooped up in the cave, but I’d never liked the desert at night. The desert sun might roast you, but its absence would immobilize you. The chill snaked in around you, slowly seeping into your skin like poison from a yellow-spotted sand snake bite. You’d shiver until your muscles cramped up, useless.

There’d always been something about staying still, about not moving forward, that I didn’t like.

Cion set a quick pace across the desert. I wasn’t sure if that was because he’d finally seen I could keep up with him or if he did it to stave off the cold.

“So where are we going?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Cion said.

“Why not?” I tried to hide my feeling we were past the point of not trusting each other.

But Cion must have heard it in my voice because he stopped and turned toward me, saying, “This is the most closely guarded secret I have. Only Dimic knows. I’m only bringing you because I think you could help. In case something happens to us on the way there . . . well, the less you know, the better.”

He turned away and continued walking across the steep dunes, and I was even more confused than when we’d left.

I trudged after him, my mind too worn out to think. I was so exhausted I thought I was seeing things when lights appeared on the horizon. I’d never heard of anyone having night mirages, but maybe after what I’d been putting my body through, anything was possible.

As we neared the light, it wasn’t the greedy wisps of the sunlight claiming the sky once more. It was softer. Lantern light. We were close to the city.

Cion came to rest in a valley with a good view of the unguarded main gates to the city. The crumbling city wall ran away on either side, circling in Achra. It was easy to see the top of the arena just past it. It looked smaller than I remembered.

“We’ll wait here,” he said. He hunkered down in the sand, wedging out a space for himself using his backside.

“Did you even look for yellow-spotted sand snakes?” I asked as I plopped down beside him.

“You can hear them coming,” he said.

I gave him a sidelong glance. “I doubt even sleeping in your isolated sleeping quarters gives you enough training to hear a sand snake.”

“They hiss about every five seconds during the heat of the day and about every ten seconds at night.”

“There’s no way you can hear that,” I repeated. Maybe I wasn’t the only one capable of suffering night mirages.

“The sound is different from sand falling. It’s wetter.”

I shot him another look, but I’m not sure it really came through in the dark.

“Trust me,” he said, “when you live every day on a few sips of water, and you hear anything that sounds even remotely close to water, you’ll take notice.”

I rolled my eyes. It was followed by a shiver. It was scary how quickly body temperature plummeted in the open air.

“I forget you city dwellers can’t stand the heat or the cold,” Cion said.

“I’m fine,” I said, but my body betrayed me by shivering again.

“Here.” He wrapped his arm around me and pulled my side close to his, tucking me under his embrace. His muscles pressed against me and warmth surrounded me, like somehow his body had been absorbing all the day’s sunlight for this very purpose.

I couldn’t help but press further against him in response.

There was something comfortable and safe about being with Cion, something that made the tension drain out of my muscles that were normally so poised to respond to an attack.

“Warmer now?” Cion asked. His voice was quiet, like the wind glancing off the tops of the dunes.

For some reason, my voice didn’t seem to want to work, so I merely nodded. I couldn’t take my eyes from his.

His head inched closer to mine. He paused, licking his lips.

If I turned away again like I’d done several nights ago, I wouldn’t get another chance.

But would the desert take him from me too? That thought slid through my mind, threatening to build up the wall I’d created after my mother’s death, the wall Cion had managed to start slowly tearing down.

No. I shoved the thought away because we both belonged to the desert now. Somehow we’d managed to find each other in this maze of sand. The desert had given him to me, and there was no way it would rip him from me.

His gaze leapt from my lips to my eyes.

I waited, staring back, refusing to turn away this time, daring him to draw closer.

He inched forward.

Then his body went rigid.

Sand scattered behind us, and Cion leapt to his feet. I whipped around as a figure emerged from behind the dune.

Cion visibly relaxed and hurried toward it.

A rush of cold air washed over me, highlighting the spot against my ribs where his warmth had been.

I was glad for the darkness. It hid the blush staining my cheeks and the smile spreading across my lips at the thought of almost kissing Cion. The memory warmed me enough to get to my feet and follow.

The figure was shorter than I was, probably another Desert Boy, but it was hard to tell beneath the hood concealing his face.

Cion threw back the hood. I caught a glimpse of a long braid before Cion wrapped the figure in a hug.

I draped my arms around my torso to keep from shivering.

“I got your note,” Cion asked. “Are you well?”

“Yes.” A female voice.

Not just any voice. One I knew well.

I pushed around Cion, certain it couldn’t be who I thought it was. But there she stood, her arms wrapped around him.

Latia.