Finally, the caravan slowed. There was a crossroads in the path ahead. The mercenaries crowded around the demon with the red eyes. I heard them faintly strategizing.
"We will go South through the City of Smokeless Fire." Commanded the demon.
“But master," spoke one of the others. "We have been forbidden from entering the city."
"They will pay no mind to us as long as we are only passing through," He said. "Lord Morningstar will want her sooner rather than later. He must make the appointed sacrifices to complete the anchoring process."
I didn't understand what they were talking about at all. Was I to be sacrificed?
I struggled against my bindings once more, but it was no use. The chains that held me were unbreakable. I stayed silent, hoping against hope that I would hear something useful. The group departed and the caravan started moving again.
The men that were driving the carriage that held me, were now speaking.
"If Morningstar wants an anchor so badly he could find any old mortal, but no it had to be her." His voice was sullen.
"You know why it had to be her." The other argued. "He would have never settled for anyone less. It's not just business. It's a vendetta more powerful than anything you could imagine."
The first man conceded. "Yeah, I know." His voice turned wry. "What do you want to bet he has back-ups? You know in case this one doesn't work out."
"That's almost certain." He replied and they both laughed darkly. Anchor? Vendetta? What did any of this have to do with me? I had never met this Lord Morningstar person, let alone do anything bad enough for him to have a vendetta against me. Was it possible that he had the wrong person? Maybe I wasn't the new Guardian after all. I definitely didn't feel like a guardian. I thought back to the beginning of this whole mess. I had climbed the wall to escape the banshees then lit the torch. That is what made everyone think that I was the guardian. Was it impossible to light the torches if you weren't the Guardian of the Gates? My head ached as I pondered these questions. Though I knew that hunger and thirst didn't matter in the Liminal world, my throat was so dry.
The air here had a different quality. It was as if the desert was making its presence known. I twisted against my shackles, trying to get a better look at my surroundings. The dirt path that we were following had turned into a smooth stone road, possibly sandstone of some kind. If only I could turn to see what was ahead. They had spoken of a city of some kind. What if I could get someone's attention once we passed through the city? That might be my only chance of escape. Once more along the way the caravan stopped. As they moved back to check on me, I pretended to be asleep.
"That spell really knocked her out,†The driver muttered as he glanced at me. It took every ounce of strength I had not to move. The shackles had become extraordinarily painful. Every muscle in my body froze. I waited until I could no longer feel the dark energy of his gaze on me before taking a chance to open my eyes. Behind us were smooth sandstone outbuildings. The city had to be close. We were approaching my last hope of survival.
There was no mist or fog here, but everything had a strange quality to it. The buildings shimmered like the waves that come off of a hot flame. There was a subtle movement to the world around as if the very fabric of reality was held by nothing more than a silken scarf. I watched for people, or spirits, or anything, but I could see no one. I was beginning to grow desperate as the city grew in size behind the caravan. Was it completely empty? I hadn't seen a single soul since we entered the ancient city. A sob threatened to spill out, but I held it back.
Then I saw a dark shadow swooping down into the city. It was the hawk I had seen earlier. It was difficult to make out, but it shimmered slightly as if it were only a mirage. I squinted to see it clearly. Then I realized it wasn't a hawk at all. How could I have missed it? It seemed so obvious now. It was Nox. Somehow he had disguised himself to follow us. I had never been so happy to see a familiar sight. He was swooping in and out of the great stone buildings. There were pointed arches and giant minarets. It would have been a beautiful city if it weren't so hauntingly empty. Tile mosaics in grand geometric patterns covered the vast stone walls. I could have kept staring at its beauty for hours. There was a strange quality to the city as if perhaps we had been there for hours. I considered the buildings around me. Had we passed them before?
It seemed that somehow the caravan had driven us in a circle, but where were the gates of the city. We had passed them some time ago. Rather than passing through the outer edge of the city, it seemed that we had somehow ended up deep in the center of the empty city. Did the drivers notice or were they as lost in the sights
