a lot of hatred passing between them. I'm surprised the ground doesn't boil like lead and the sky crackle with heat lightning. Wild Calimshan seems pretty peaceful.''
'Somewhere out here lie the Fields of Teshyllal,' said Amber. 'That's where the elves of Tethyr, Darthiir Wood, and Shilmista ended the Era of Skyfire. They helped the High Mage Pharos fuse the genies into the Great Red Crystal that still hovers in the air.'
'Somewhere else, obviously.' Hakiim scratched his ankles till they bled. 'There's nothing here but scorpions and sand fleas.'
'Even the genies aren't dangerous anymore,' continued Reiver, 'unless you're swallowed by Memnon's Crackle, where the sand sizzles and pops and swirls like quicksand. More dangerous are the hatori-the sand crocodiles, or the two-legged crocodiles like the Penum-brannar raiders, or the little things you might step on: snakes, werespiders, poisonous plants. There are night spirits like banshees and spectres and ghasts-'
'Stop!' ordered Amber.
Hakiim looked around repeatedly, as if the desert might explode under them. 'Maybe we should sleep in the boat,' he said, 'moored out in the river.'
Reiver hid a smirk. 'A whale or a kraken could burp and swallow-'
'Enough! There are no whales in the river. Still, I'm disappointed. A holiday should be an adventure.' The daughter of pirates stood, dusted her seat and trousers, tugged on her pack, pointed her capture noose, and said, 'Let's continue south. It slopes down. Maybe there're caves or something.'
She marched across the flagstone road and crunched on shale. The young men followed. Reiver checked their back trail and said, 'Keep the tower in sight. It's our only landmark, and we don't have a compass.'
'You do so,' Hakiim chuckled. 'A solid gold one stuffed down your shirt!'
'That's a sailor's compass,' Reiver grinned. 'It only works at sea.'
They walked. Shale squeaked underfoot, and pebbles clicked on rocks, then soft sand made them sink to their ankles. The landscape dropped and grew more jumbled. In the shadows of knee-high boulders grew al-fasfasah grass, thorn bushes, and stunted tamarisk trees. These tiny oases made homes for jerboas, red foxes, and horned lizards. In clusters of sprawling Calim cactus lurked red spiders and sand squirrels. Somewhere out of sight a burrowing owl hooted.
Sun filled the sky at their left, so the travelers tugged down folds of their kaffiyeh to blind that side. A mile or more from the road, the sand hardened and curled into frozen waves. Amber stopped at a lip, careful lest it crumble, and shaded her eyes. Still descending in sandy cataracts, dunes fanned away in jagged humps toward wind-scoured stone, until the horizon dipped into a huge valley or ancient sinkhole.
'No caves,' said Reiver.
'No nothing,' said Hakiim.
'Still, it's lovely in a desolate way,' offered Amber. 'See how the land changes colors, as if someone's lowered a lantern? We'd better return to the road, though-what?'
A tremor rippled under their feet, as if a heavy cart was passing by. Reiver suddenly froze, sweating. 'I just remembered another danger of the desert.'
'What?' barked Hakiim.
The earth trembled, a shiver that buzzed to their knees.
'There's something behind us,' Amber squealed. She jumped and spun in place but saw nothing. Only a breeze caressed them. 'What is it?'
'Those rocks-'
Reiver never got to finish. Sand rippled as if whipped by the wind. The desert floor bulged upward like a volcano bubbling. The bulges elongated and burst.
Amber, Hakiim, and Reiver spat and blinked as sand sprayed in their faces. They only glimpsed the source: sand-colored bodies stippled with black and brown spots, longer than horses, mouths like barrels rimmed with teeth like jagged glass, each tooth wiggling like a finger, gaping mouths that could swallow them whole.
As one, the three companions turned and jumped down the steep slope. Amber plowed sand with her heels, hopped up to run, almost pitched head over heels, and squatted on her rear. She skittered, bumped, rolled, and slid downward faster than she liked, but she didn't dare slow down.
A sandborer burst out of the slope beside her like an arrow through a bale of hay. Thunderherders were something Amber had heard of around the slave corrals, and those were only rumors, not actual sightings. She could imagine that all of the people who'd actually encountered one failed to survive the experience. The creatures were thought to be perpetually hungry, mindless beasts able to burrow through sand faster than a human could run. How they earned the name 'thunderherder' no one knew.
Perhaps only thunder and lightning could kill one, Amber thought wildly, as a living tube ringed with fangs arched toward her, teeth wiggling like a beggar's hands. Flailing her arms while skidding, Amber smacked her capture noose square across the monster's maw. The ebony shaft clacked on teeth, and the impact knocked Amber rolling at an angle. The thunderherder slithered sideways after her. Stabbing her free hand against the slope, Amber whapped again, missed, smacked, and struck in pure panic. Wood thumped on hide like scuffed leather. Either she was stronger than she knew, or she hit something sensitive, because Amber saw the creature suddenly veer, bite the slope, wriggle, drill, and disappear.
Watching everywhere, Amber dug in both feet and tried to stop. The slope lessened near the bottom, and she skittered to a halt perhaps thirty feet from the trough. Temporarily safe, she immediately thought of her friends.
They were in trouble. Higher up the slope, howling, Hakiim rolled out of control. His clumsy pack and leather shield spanked the sand at every revolution. Amber hollered for him to scoop sand to stop himself, but it was the shield that saved him. A thunderherder rocketed out of the slope above Hakiim, dived, and bounced off the shield. The shock flattened Hakiim facedown, and the monster flipped over his head. The sandborer writhed and snapped its pointed tail to gain a grip and slither back up the slope.
Amber screamed as another thunderherder erupted from the earth above Hakiim. The rug merchant's son didn't see it. Scrabbling for handholds and footholds, Amber floundered upward.
'Hak!' she called. 'Above you!'
Highest of all, the nimble Reiver regained his feet. Now he charged down the slope to aid Hakiim, sand flying in plumes from his bare feet. One misstep and he'd tumble headfirst, but Reiver ran headlong while yanking his long dagger from its neck sheath, then launched himself forward.
Facedown, Hakiim crabbed a half circle. The beast below slid and tumbled away end over end. A noise made him turn, and Hakiim hollered as another thunderherder sailed at his head with mouth gaping. Before he could scream, a ragged scarecrow flew through the air at the monster.
Reiver's shoulder rammed into the borer's middle. As the sandborer curled and snapped, the thief stabbed the leathery hide. The keen double-edged blade punched deep, and since Reiver was already falling, he threw his weight behind the blow. The knife carved a half circle around the monster's middle. White paste whipped to froth around the wound. Half severed, the mindless monster twisted away from the pain but only tore more of its own flesh and hide away. Flipping and flapping, the creature rolled over Hakiim, the stinger tail just missing his face, then tumbled down the slope after its brother. Reiver went with it, helpless to halt his headlong charge.
Up high and alone, Hakiim scooted to slide down the slope after his friend. Unfortunately, he slid across a yawning hole. A thin lip of sand collapsed, and Hakiim plunged into a hole as big and as deep as a well. Cascading sand smothered his cry for help.
'Hold on, Hak!'
Amber watched Reiver's wild and weird tussle go by, but she was too far away to help him, and Hakiim needed her more. Scurrying up the slope, Amber reached the spot where Hakiim had disappeared. Only a deep dimple of disturbed sand showed. Ramming her hand into the center, she flailed about and felt nothing. Gasping, she shoved her hand deeper down until her cheek pressed the sand. She still felt nothing.
'Ilmater,' she called to the martyred god of slaves. 'Hak is a good man. Please deliver him!'
There. Something moved. Praying it wasn't a monster, Amber wriggled her fingers like thunderherder teeth, snagged something soft and pulled, slowly and steadily lest her hand slip. Shifting onto her knees, bracing against her staff pressed flat on the earth, she hauled. Sand bubbled and churned, a thousand shades of tan, before Amber saw the black skin of Hakiim's hand.
A sputtering Hakiim burst free, spitting sand and sobbing for air. Amber dug past his head, grabbed his sash,
