a single voice must guide us, we have chosen for it to be hers.”
“And the Sand Masters?” asked Gewey. He had assumed they were the leaders of the desert elves.
Weila held her head high. “We concern ourselves with matters of the desert. Our task is the well-being of our people as they journey through the dunes. Once our folk are safely home, our responsibility ends. We do not often need a single voice to guide us. War and turmoil are rare. But things have changed. The Soufis are forming an army. This has never happened…until you arrived.”
Gewey could feel Aaliyah's unease. Since he had returned her spirit to her body, more and more he could feel what she was feeling. It was almost like the bond he shared with Kaylia, only more subtle.
Soon, the light grew brighter and brighter, until the surrounding area was awash with blue illumination. Gewey could feel the flow growing more and more powerful with each step. The light seemed to be emanating from the ground and soon an immense, fifty-foot high statue came into view. At first Gewey was unable to make out what it was. The light danced playfully across its surface, but as they drew closer it was cleared. An elf woman, in a flowing gown, face upturned, and holding aloft a silver urn. The urn was tilted forward and a stream of shining blue liquid spilled out.
When they were only a short distance away, the ground changed from sand to smooth, polished white marble. Gewey realized it was part of a massive round platform. In its center was a pool, one-hundred yards in diameter, filled with the blue liquid that poured from the statue. The white marble reflected the light from the water, giving off an eerie, yet calming glow, and made Gewey think of being within a dream. The flow was so strong, it nearly entered him before he could stop it.
“Wait here,” Weila ordered. She walked around the edge of the pool and disappeared behind the statue.
Gewey and Aaliyah waited in silence, gazing into the water. Nearly an hour had passed before Weila returned carrying a small tan reed basket. Beside her walked a tall, thin elf woman. Her long golden hair fell loosely about her shoulders and down her back. Her alabaster skin was made more pronounced by her penetrating, dark green eyes. She wore a blue satin robe, embroidered with tiny, intricate silver swirls that interlaced, becoming one large pattern, and tied at the waist by a silver cloth. Her feet were bare, and made no sound as they touch the cold marble. Her ageless features were thin and delicate, yet bore the seriousness of authority. Just before she reached them Gewey could smell a salty sweet fragrance, which reminded him of the wild flowers after a spring rain.
“I am Lyrial.” Her voice was feminine and soft, yet commanding. “Weila has brought news that Pali fell in the Black Oasis, fighting at your side.”
Gewey wasn't sure if he was to speak, so he just nodded.
Aaliyah stepped forward and bowed. “I am-“
“I know who you are,” she interrupted. “And you know who I am. You are here so I can determine if your arrival has anything to do with the recent gathering of a Soufis army. Once I have found the truth of the matter, we will discuss Pali.”
“I can assure you, we do not have anything to do with the Soufis,” said Aaliyah.
“We shall see.” Lyrial spun on her heels. “But I am not a discourteous host. You shall eat and rest. Then we shall talk. Weila will see to your needs.” She made her way back to the statue and sat cross-legged beside it.
Weila opened the basket and pulled out two thin blankets, a loaf of bread, some dried fruit, and a bottle of wine. “You will have a few hours before she will speak with you. I suggest you rest until then. I will return a shortly before sunrise.” She turned to leave, then paused. “Don't worry about the cold. The Waters of Shajir will keep you warm enough.”
Once Weila was away, Gewey and Aaliyah laid out their blankets and ate their meal. The bread was plain and tough, but the fruit was sweeter than expected. The wine wasn't as good as what he’d had in the past, but it went down well enough.
“What should we do?” asked Gewey, leaning back on his elbows.
“What can we do?” Aaliyah lay down and closed her eyes. “If we run, we will either be killed or be forced to kill those who are not our enemy. We will rest while we can and speak to Lyrial. Hopefully we will be able to convince her that we have nothing to do with the Soufis.”
“I may be forced to tell them what I am, you know.”
Aaliyah opened her eyes and looked at Gewey. “That is for you to decide.”
Gewey lay down and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Aaliyah was right. What could they do?
Chapter 21
Weila woke Gewey and Aaliyah, and offered them both a cup of clear, sweet-smelling juice, which they gratefully accepted, though its fragrance did not prepare Gewey for the sour taste. His face twisted and he nearly spat it out.
Weila laughed. “It is from the fruit of the ganhi bush. It is sour, but very good for you.”
“Is Lyrial ready to see us?” asked Aaliyah.
Weila nodded, and pointed to the far end of the pool near the statue. “Go to her. I will wait here.”
“You're not coming?” asked Gewey.
“As I said, this is a matter for the Amal Molidova, not a Sand Master,” she explained. “Do not worry. We have spoken of Pali, and she does not hold you to blame any more than I.”
Gewey and Aaliyah finished their juice, then made their way around the pool to where Lyrial sat waiting. In front of her, two flat round cushions had been placed. She motioned for them to sit. She wore a pair of loose-fitting, cream, linen trousers, and a matching blouse. Her blond hair was in a tight braid that fell down her back and wound around her waist, ending up in her lap, and her bright green eyes twinkled in the blue light emanating from the water. Her face had the same timeless quality Gewey had come to know in elves, yet he knew she must be quite old.
Lyrial's eyes darted back and forth from Gewey to Aaliyah. “I do not think you are in league with the Soufis. So do not fear.”
“That is good,” said Aaliyah. “And know that we come in friendship.”
Lyrial raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? It is hard to imagine those who exiled my people so long ago have suddenly had a change of heart. No. I believe if you desire friendship, it is out of necessity. Whatever the troubles are in the west, I think you have brought them with you.”
“First, I would say that my people did not exile you,” said Aaliyah, her tone forceful and steady. “My people are from across what you know as the Western Abyss. But do not think that is a reflection on the other elves of this land. I do not believe they even remember you exist. Certainly, those living today had no part in your exile.”
Lyrial shook her head and let out a huff. “It would stand to reason that their arrogance and folly would shorten their memory.”
“Your kin do not seem to share your attitude,” said Aaliyah. “Those we spoke to seem pleased that the elves of the west would come.”
“It is for them to live and die, free in the sands,” she shot back. “It is for me to protect that freedom. Their hearts are not as burdened as mine.” She shrugged. “They do not read the ancient lore.” She paused and sighed. “Still, I am not unwilling to welcome them, if they truly wish it. And stories of the elves from across the Abyss have been told long before we came here. If your people have returned, then perhaps it is you who have brought war.”
“I can only tell you we have not,” she retorted. “We have been unable to return until now.”
Lyrial sighed. “Very well, then. Tell me your tale.”
Aaliyah told her story, beginning with their arrival and ending when they left for the desert, leaving out Gewey's identity as a God. “I know that Weila told you why we came, and that we had intended to leave your desert in peace.”
“She told me what you allowed her to know,” Lyrial replied. “But you have not revealed all. What is it you fear me to learn, I wonder?”
Aaliyah stiffened. “I have told you all that you need to understand that we are guiltless regarding the Soufis. Anything else is our affair.”
Lyrial placed her finger to her chin and met Aaliyah’s gaze. “Is that so? You may not have caused the Soufis
