Vessel

Sendar scowled, his face tinting purple. “I am best able to lead!”

“Debatable,” Korbyn said. He held up a hand to forestall further argument. “We will fight alongside you.” He turned to Oyri. “And will the Silk Clan fight with us?”

“The Silk Clan does not need—” Oyri began.

“But you do,” Liyana pointed out. “You need help to rejoin your clan, and the clans need your help against the empire.”

Oyri opened her mouth and shut it.

“That is the price of my assistance,” Sendar said. “I will guide you to your clan if you will fight with us against the intruders.”

At last Oyri nodded.

“Still it won’t be enough,” Korbyn said. He began to pace. “We must contact as many other clans as we can. For clans who have their deities, use magic to reach them. For those without, send runners. Liyana, Bayla, and I will bring our clans, the Scorpion Clan, and the clans in the southern desert.”

You have until then to vacate this body, Bayla said. I will not face my clan trapped within you! She produced another sandstorm that knocked Liyana backward.

This time Liyana did not lose consciousness. She clung on as Bayla battered her from within. You’re my goddess! Why do you do this to me?

I want to breathe, to see, to feel, to eat, to sleep, to dance! With each word, the storm inside whipped faster. I want to walk the sands, embrace my lover, fight with my people! I want to live as was promised to me!

Softly, in a near whisper, Liyana said, But I don’t want to die. She felt as if the words were ripped out of her gut.

Immediately the wind died. Bayla fell silent.

Liyana felt a hand on her arm. She focused on Korbyn’s face. “Liyana?” he asked tentatively. “Bayla?”

“Liyana,” she said. And she turned away so she would not have to see whether he was pleased or disappointed.

Chapter Twenty-Five

At dawn Sendar cared for the horses: curried them, trimmed them, and examined every inch of their flesh for abrasions and sprains. Thinking of Fennik, Liyana wondered if Sendar cared for his people that much. She scolded herself for criticizing a deity. But it was difficult not to, now that she had met Sendar, Maara, and Oyri.

Oyri hadn’t stopped talking since she’d woken at dawn. “I shall require a bath when we reach our destination, Sendar. Do your horse people know how to prepare a proper bath? I have sand on my skin, and it is terribly abrasive.”

Liyana wished she could tune her out. Instead she returned to Raan’s side. Earlier she’d woken as Maara but then she’d lapsed into unconsciousness again. “Raan, can you hear me? Are you still there?”

She heard footsteps behind her. She twisted around and saw the horse god studying her with narrowed eyes. “We should take Maara with us,” Sendar said to Oyri. Fennik’s jocular voice was chilled when Sendar spoke.

Oyri nodded. “Indeed. I do not trust that their motives are properly aligned.”

Liyana felt a hand grip her wrist. She looked down to see Raan’s eyes open, beseeching her. “She comes with us,” Liyana said. Raan’s grip loosened.

Oyri continued as if Liyana hadn’t spoken. “While Maara and I have had our differences, I believe it is the duty—”

Inform Oyri that Maara will accompany us, Bayla said.

Liyana repeated Bayla’s words and then asked silently, Truly? She felt hope flutter inside her. Perhaps Bayla was not unsympathetic to Raan . . . or to Liyana.

Oyri echoed her thought. “Truly, Bayla? What if this human of yours contributes to her downfall? Would you wish another to suffer your fate?

Repeat my words: I do not believe it is in the best interests of the Scorpion Clan to be beholden to the Silk Clan. Liyana repeated Bayla’s words. And, Oyri, if you ever think of expanding to the Goat Clan, I will personally render you deaf as well as blind.

Oyri gasped. “I would never!”

Once, the salt worms roved the desert freely. . . .

“Once, the salt worms roved the desert freely,” Liyana began. She knew this story. She continued without prompting. “Everywhere the worms tunneled, they tainted the sand with salt. Living things withered, and the desert was laced with trails of death. Maara of the Scorpion Clan saw them approach the hills, and she sent her scorpions to sting the salt worms until they fled. Some burrowed deep below the rocks, never to rise again. Others retreated to the plains, creating the salt flats, never to leave again.”

You know your tales, Bayla said, sounding pleased. It would please Oyri greatly to cause the Scorpion Clan to leave their hills and beg for mercy from the Silk Clan. Liyana repeated that out loud.

Sendar raised both eyebrows at Oyri. “Is this true?”

Oyri opened her mouth and then shut it like a fish.

“Maara stays with us,” Korbyn said firmly. “And you would do well to remember that the clans are one people. Perhaps your blindness will open your eyes to that.”

“Let us ride, Sendar. I can no longer abide our present company.” Oyri held up her arms like a child, and Sendar lifted her onto one of the horses.

Sendar mounted his own horse. He held the reins of Oyri’s horse. “You will see that your horses are well cared for.” It was a command, not a question. He was leaving them with the three desert horses and taking the two empire horses—either out of kindness or a certainty that they could not care for the nondesert horses. Regardless, Liyana was grateful that Gray Luck was one of the horses he was leaving. “Remember: We must intercept the army before they enter the mountains. Do not be late.”

“As I recall, I wasn’t the one who was slow to the finish line,” Korbyn said.

The two deities rode away without a farewell. Sand plumed in their wake and then wavered in the heat. Liyana and Korbyn watched them until they shrank to specks in the distance. “There is a reason why most deities are loners,” Korbyn said.

“Everyone will put aside their differences to face the invaders,” Liyana said. She pictured the emperor, a most polite invader.

How sweetly optimistic, Bayla said.

Practical, Liyana corrected. For all our differences, there is one thing the clans have in common: the desert. We’ll fight for it if we have to.

I think that may be the first thing you have said that I agree with, vessel.

Liyana and Korbyn secured the unconscious Raan to a horse. Taking her reins, Liyana climbed onto Gray Luck. Korbyn led the extra horse. They rode west.

At midday they camped.

While Korbyn located food, Liyana sat beside a clump of cacti, intending to fill the leaves with water. She began to breathe evenly, trying to calm her thoughts so she could picture the lake.

Oh, let me, Bayla said.

Power flooded into Liyana. She gasped and reached out to the cacti. Instantly it plumped with water. She then reached out further, and every cacti within a hundred yards of the tent filled with water.

That was a lot of magic, she said as mildly as she could manage.

Indeed, Bayla said and then fell silent.

The goddess stayed silent as Liyana collected the cacti and extracted their moisture, filling their waterskins and setting a pot with tea leaves to boil. Korbyn returned with several desert rats. As they fell into the comfortable rhythm of preparing food, Liyana relaxed. It almost felt like it used to, just her and Korbyn. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he cooked dinner. After a few minutes, she noticed that he was sneaking glances at her as