CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SUNRISE CONSISTED OF A gradual shift in hue from black to red and a not-so-gradual increase in temperature from hot to suffocating. Through the goggles connected to my rebreather, I watched Evie disappear behind the veil of blowing sand while carrying the bundle of boots slung over her shoulder. Despite following her movements with my sixth sense, the visible shock remained significant.

I endeavored to breathe deeply through the restrictive filter, reminding myself that to everyone else, Evie looked like a young married woman—covered from head to foot with a black abaya. I cast a backward glance at Adel, who was dutifully occupying the position of first wife. In another hour she’d be cursing her solid black garb in earnest, if she weren’t already.

To either side I caught occasional glimpses of members of Hassan’s tribe, some atop camels, others on foot. Petrosian had wandered ahead shortly into the journey. I could still identify him via psychic mapping.

Though neither my eyes nor my sixth sense could perceive it, we’d been told the families of honor were near the front. They traveled in a wide circle, ensuring the prisoners remained among the procession, therefore safeguarding the extra appeasement of the desert god. Times like these reminded me of how easily religion could deform mysticism into manipulation.

As Evie neared the fringe of my perceptions, I quickened my pace, overtaking the stragglers. By the time she’d reached the unit, Adel and I found ourselves adjacent to the camels burdened with skins of water.

The size of the procession and the distance from the village must have required a prince’s ransom in water—and doubly so, due to the recent shortages. While paying more attention to Evie than to where I was going, a large man wearing a sleek rebreather rebuffed my proximity to the water supply.

Nodding, I barked an insulting command to Adel in Arabic, indicating the rebuke had been her fault.

The man smirked.

Ignoring Adel’s increased muttering, I returned my full attention to Evie. Clever girl. She had struck a member of the unit with the bundle and spit on him, mimicking the sort of behavior the prisoners had been subject to over the last hour. After casting off any possible suspicion of her presence, she subtly slowed her progression from prisoner to prisoner. Under the cloak of abuse, each had time to reach inside the bundle.

As Evie allowed herself to be slowly overtaken by the majority of the procession, I relaxed, focusing on the next phase of the plan. My telekinetic abilities would make procuring the water and swords child’s play, but using my abilities this far into the desert could alert Oleg to our presence.

The only alternatives I could think of involved bloodshed, something Hassan had warned against. Without telekinesis or killing, we were going to need one hell of a distraction.