Behind the Lace and the Lies

3 - Among Swirling Sand

"They're not far off," I said.

"What?" Carmen questioned, not turning away from Juniper.

"They're getting close. The wind felt them."

He paused for a moment, eyes closed as he no doubt tried to sense them himself.

I glanced out at the desert, amidst the shimmering of hot air, a small trail of blowing sand was visible. I could hear my heartbeat, feel it drumming against the inside of my throat. "They're there, you can see the dust being kicked up from the horses," I continued. "I'll go get Andre."

I stumbled down the ledge. My legs felt numb.

I am going to be dead within the hour. I am going to be dead. I'm going to die.

I walked to Andre, where he sat beside the pond, still sharpening his sword. He frowned, scrubbing at a tiny nick. Who cares about a tiny nick? I wanted to scream. Weston's body lay on the other side of the pond, half shrouded by bushes.

"They're getting close." My voice echoed within my head, through the empty space in my chest.

Andre's head snapped up. "Already? We should have had another hour at the least. Are you sure?" The bruised hollows of his eye sockets looked almost skeletal.

"Yes."

"How many are there?" he demanded, standing up and sheathing his sword.

I hesitated, feeling the wind exhale against my skin and curl around my ears. Sand. Heat. Weston's dead body across the pond. A vulture circling far above. "The wind's not blowing hard enough anymore," I replied, "but from the gusts earlier, I would guess three dozen."

Andre tightened the straps on his armor. "How far away?"

"Maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

He cursed. "Sorin and Lynn stayed behind to buy us some time, back when Icarus was still alive. We would have more time." His eyes flirted around, and he rubbed his face. "There's a traitor. Arijhan's soldiers were ready for us at Jarrca and now they know exactly where our camp is."

"Who?"

He glanced at me. "Probably one of the people that didn't make it out of Jarrca." He cursed again. His tone dropped, becoming deadly serious, a cold rush of fear ran through me. "A traitor is bad enough. We cannot be taken prisoner. None of us. Even one could be incriminating for Duke Phanren."

His voice dropped lower, becoming incoherent mumbles. "No prisoners ... no one taken alive."

He cleared his voice, raising it. "Meet me at the ledge in five. Be ready." I nodded, and he rushed off.

I watched as he left; a sick feeling rose in my stomach and threatened to bubble out. The moment he vanished from my sight, I scrambled to where I had left my sleeping mat and personal belongings. They were covered by a fine layer of sand, which I hastily brushed off. I reached into my bag, and after a moment of searching, pulled a satin pouch.

The pouch was tiny and barely covered a third of my palm. I delicately untied the strings and emptied the contents of the bag onto my palm.

It was a small amber orb. Beneath the swirled outside layer of hardened sugar was refined zaffron, glimmering iridescent green.

Zaffron. The whole reason we were in this mess.

Zaffron limited the negative effects of magic. For a short period of time, it would allow me to use more magic before I started seeing the other dimension. And yet, because of Arijhan's monopoly on zaffron, the ball resting in my palm – about of the size of a marble – cost me a month's worth of wages. But if there was any time to use it, that would be now.

"Wren."

Standing barely five feet from me was Icarus Phanren.

He looked untouched. His tunic was not ripped, armor in perfect condition, not a drop of blood on him. The only evidence that he had even been to Jarrca was the grains of sand coating his hair. He smiled tentatively.

"You're supposed to be dead," I said.

He laughed softly. "You're almost making me think that you're not happy I'm alive," he said. He stepped closer.

"How did you make it out?" I asked. I could feel the stickiness of the ball of zaffron clenched in my hand. The world was spinning, rotating around me and I wasn't in sync with any of it. "How?"

He sighed, face flashing between saddened and eager. "That doesn't matter. Wren, it doesn't matter. You need to come with me."

"We won't make it to Phanren before Arijhan's troops catch us. They're probably only five or ten minutes away now. Besides, we can't get up the Rein Steppes before nightfall. I need to go get ready to fight." I needed to go, I could hear the whispers of the wind warning me of the clanking of armor, of the rhythm of hoofbeats.

"You don't understand, Wren. Just come with me," he pleaded.

"Do you know of a way to Phanren? We should get Juniper, and Andre, and Carmen," I asked.

"No, not to Phanren." Icarus let out a frustrated sigh. "Months ago, the Court of Arijhan realized that the tension between them and Phanren was drawing negative attention from the Emperor. So they offered to make a trade alliance, to supply Phanren with some zaffron in exchange for some other goods."

He stepped closer. "My father didn't take that offer and instead decided to try and assassinate them. Someone had to take the offer!" Desperation seeped through his voice. "I couldn't allow my father to get in the way. Wren, with that deal, the Duke's family and ones he selects will be supplied with zaffron for life." He stared at me with piercing eyes.

The emptiness swelled up inside me, pressing on me till I couldn't breathe and the world spun. "What are you saying?" My voice rung through my ears, clashing with the constant whispering of the wind.

"I'm saying that you should come with me. You won't have to worry about the other or the creatures or all that stuff you told me about. There won't be a cost to your magic anymore. You have so much power, you shouldn't have to worry about it killing you." He stepped closer and grabbed the zaffron from my hand. "This won't be an expensive scarcity, it'll be there whenever you need it, just come with me."

"You're the traitor." The pieces of my world were falling apart and I couldn't find a way to click them back together.

He stared at me, eyes narrowing in what could have been anger or righteous defense. But before he had the opportunity to respond, the air was broken by the Juniper's screams.

I lurched forward, breaking into a run. Juniper! Were Arijhan's troops here already? I sprinted up the ledge, the calls of Icarus fading into the background.

The first thing I noticed was the crimson sand surrounding Carmen's body, I then saw the knife sticking out of his chest, and rapid heaving of his lungs as blood gurgled out.

The next thing I noticed was Andre's hands wrapped around Juniper's neck. They thrashed, clouds of golden sand surrounding them. A spinning orb of water hovered above them. Droplets peeled themselves from Andre's eyes and mouth; Juniper was pulling the water from his body in a desperate attempt to save herself.

"Andre stop!" I shouted. I sprang forward, tearing at his hands. Juniper stared at me, soundless mouthing something, her eyes bulging.

"She has die! They can't take any prisoners!" Andre cried.

I ripped his hand off, and with a gust of wind, flung him away. He crashed into a palm tree beside Carmen's body.

Juniper lay panting, eyes wide, blood seeping through her bandage. Andre stared at me with his dark eyes, hand on the pummel of his sword. Carmen was dead, blood slowly flowing from his body. Icarus stood beside me, my zaffron was in his hand; the knowledge of his treachery and his offer spun in my mind.

And on the next dune of sand, three dozen armed soldiers charged forward, golden sand swirling in their wake.