Vessel

Korbyn’s mouth twitched. “Now I believe she is within you.” His fingertips brushed her cheek. “Bayla? Beloved?”

Flailing, Raan groaned. Liyana swiftly turned away from his touch. She felt Raan’s forehead and then her pulse. Her heartbeat was erratic. “What’s wrong with her?” Liyana asked.

She’s fighting her goddess, Bayla said, as you fought me.

“I don’t know,” Korbyn said, his eyes still on Liyana. Or Bayla. Liyana felt her insides twist. He should be looking at Bayla. She shouldn’t still be here.

“Bayla thinks she’s fighting Maara,” Liyana said. “Like I fought Bayla.” She met his beautiful, deep eyes. “You must know I didn’t intend for this to happen.”

The tent billowed and shook as Oyri negotiated her way through the tent flap. Korbyn reached out a hand to steady her, and the second his hand touched her, Oyri leaped backward as if she’d felt a snake. “It’s Korbyn,” he said. “Be at ease.”

Oyri let him guide her into the tent. She settled herself between the packs, pulling them around her as if they were a protective wall. “I must heal myself.”

“I have tried,” Korbyn said. “It is not possible.”

“You tried? When?” Liyana asked. She’d never overhead Korbyn and Pia discuss this. She couldn’t imagine Pia asking him to try. Across the tent, Oyri pawed at her face, as if she could feel the scope of her blindness.

“Several nights,” Korbyn said, “while she slept . . . until she woke one night and asked me not to try again. She said if she gained her vision, then she would lose her way.” His mouth quirked, but Liyana felt her heart squeeze. She could picture Pia saying that.

“Ridiculous sentiment,” Oyri said. She rubbed her eyes hard and then harder. “And I may succeed where you failed.”

He laid his hands on her wrists and gently lowered her fingers away from her face. “Still you must wait to try. The healing will exhaust you, and we cannot afford to have two of us incapacitated. We must ride as soon as Sendar says the horses are ready.”

“I will not proceed without vision,” Oyri said. “It is insupportable that I should have a deficient vessel. How she could have hidden this in the dreamwalk—”

In a mild voice Korbyn said, “Your ‘deficient’ vessel crossed a desert that has killed seasoned warriors.” He met Liyana’s eyes. At least she was not the only one who had valued Pia. She suddenly felt less alone. She was aware of his closeness inside the tent. For an instant Oyri and her tirade melted away.

Liyana broke eye contact as she felt Bayla churn inside her. Exactly where does my darling boy propose we ride to? Bayla asked. The enemy is here!

“Bayla wants to know where we’re going,” Liyana said. She shifted away from Korbyn. The air was thick and hot inside the tent, and she tried to breathe deeply.

“To unite the clans,” Korbyn said.

“The Scorpion Clan joins with no one,” Oyri declared.

Waste of time, Bayla said. You will never achieve full cooperation. She continued to expound on the futility of Korbyn’s plan and the lack of cohesion of the clans. The isolationism has been increasing. Oyri is but one example—

Korbyn’s mouth twisted into an almost smile. “She’s ranting, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Liyana said.

His smile broadened.

Bayla broke off midsentence. I do not rant.

“Bayla, Oyri . . . The army must be stopped,” Korbyn said. “If they reach the mountains, they’ll bring disaster to the entire desert.”

Stop them here! Bayla said. Vessel, repeat my words. Better to fight now before the invaders soil our sands with—

“She says to stop them here,” Liyana said.

“It is a very large army,” Korbyn said mildly. Bayla began to protest again, but before Liyana could speak, Korbyn looked beyond her. “Are the horses ready?” he asked.

Liyana turned her head and saw Fennik—Sendar—in the entranceway. She stared at him and tried to convince her brain that this was not her friend, even though it was his body. Sendar’s eyes roved over her. “Bayla?” he breathed.

Tell him he still smells of horses, and I do not forgive him for the humiliation he—

“She’s angry with you,” Liyana said.

Sendar looked pained but did not address her. “The horses will be ready shortly. Give them ten minutes to rest, and then we can—and should—move out.” Though he had the same voice, he did not speak like Fennik. His words rolled as smooth as pebbles. Liyana noticed that his stance was different as well. He held his shoulders farther back, and his body was stiff and still. Fennik had been always in motion. His fingers used to braid together or run through his hair. His expressions, too—Liyana was reminded of a puppet whose each facial tick was deliberate and pronounced. Sendar moved and spoke with intent.

Raan’s eyes popped open. “If someone does not pour whisky down my throat right now, I will be kicking every man in the balls and scalping every woman.”

Sendar roared with laughter and slapped his knee. “Maara, it is good to see you.”

Liyana suddenly felt as if the tent were too tight and the air had vanished. She pushed past Oyri and Sendar, and ran out into the desert. She stopped at the crater that the salt worm had created, and she knelt, face in her hands.

You mourn her, Bayla said quietly.

She didn’t want to die. Liyana felt an ache twisting inside her. Perhaps she understood Raan better than she’d ever thought she did. She wished she’d had a chance to tell her.

But she was a vessel. This was her fate.

I honor you, Bayla. You are my goddess, and you have my love. But for the space of a moment . . . do not speak to me.

I feel your hostility—

Liyana screamed and threw a clump of dried dirt into the salt worm’s tunnel. It smacked into the wall and fragmented. She threw another and another.

She heard footsteps behind her. “This is a familiar sight,” Korbyn said.

Liyana placed her face in her hands again, and she felt his hands on her shoulders. She sank down into the dirt. He cradled her against his chest.

He comforts you, Bayla said.

Silence, or I will not speak for you ever again.

Bayla faded into the back of her mind. Liyana felt a hint of her anger, like a whiff from a distant cooking pot. “Why me, and why not them?” she asked Korbyn.

He didn’t answer. He just held her.

Cheek pressed against his chest, she looked across the desert. It was pockmarked with dry bushes and thick-as-leather cacti. The forbidden mountains loomed in the distance. Their journey wasn’t over. “What do we do now?”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I don’t know.” She didn’t think he was talking about Maara or even the invading army.

Sendar emerged from the tent. She didn’t look up to see his expression, so like Fennik and yet not. “We don’t stay here,” he said with Fennik’s voice. Raising her head, Liyana watched him adjust the saddles. Behind him, Maara stepped out of the tent and stretched. She turned her body, examining herself, and made pleased noises.

And then she collapsed into the sand.

All of them rushed to her side. Pushing Sendar aside, Liyana threw herself onto her knees next to Raan and cradled her head.

Bayla observed, She still fights.