Sands of Fate

| 11 |

The word hung in the air between them-run. Solasra's pulse quickened at the thought. They had already fled once before, barely escaping with their lives. Could they survive again, this time knowing the Juroshan were hunting them?

Jahan's expression was tight, his jaw clenched in frustration. He shot a glance at Solasra before turning to the boy. "You expect us to trust you? After all the sneaking around? How do we even know you're telling the truth?"

The boy remained calm, his gaze steady. "You don't have to trust me. But if you don't leave soon, the Juroshan will find you. They're already close."

Solasra's stomach churned. She wanted to doubt him, to believe that their family had escaped the horrors of the Juroshan's raid for good. But something about the boy's demeanor-his knowledge of their family, of the Juroshan-made her think he wasn't lying. And the nagging feeling she had had since they'd fled Marakah, the sense that danger was always lurking, gnawed at her.

"We need to get back to camp," Solasra said quietly, turning to Jahan. "We have to warn Father."

Jahan hesitated, his frustration evident in his stiff posture. But he could see the worry etched on Solasra's face, and after a moment, he nodded. "Fine. But we're telling Father everything. He'll know what to do."

Solasra glanced back at the boy. He hadn't moved, but his dark eyes followed their every step. "Are you coming with us?" she asked, uncertainty lacing her voice.

The boy shook his head. "No. I'll stay behind. If I'm with you, they'll know. I'll cover your tracks for as long as I can."

Jahan scowled, but Solasra nodded, a strange sense of gratitude welling up inside her. Whoever this boy was, he had been helping them-whether for his own reasons or something deeper, she didn't know. But they couldn't afford to question it now.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

The boy didn't respond. His eyes flicked toward the horizon, scanning the distant dunes. "Go. And stay low."

Without another word, Solasra and Jahan turned and made their way back through the dunes, the tension between them growing with every step. The sky was brighter now, the sun casting long shadows across the sand, but the warmth it brought did nothing to ease the cold knot of fear tightening in Solasra's chest.

As they approached the camp, Jahan broke the silence. "Do you really think he's telling the truth?"

Solasra didn't answer right away, her thoughts swirling with doubt and uncertainty. "I don't know," she said finally, her voice soft. "But we can't take the risk. We have to tell Father."

Jahan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "This is madness. We barely survived the first time. And now we're supposed to run again?"

"We have no choice," Solasra said, her voice sharper than she intended. "If the Juroshan find us-"

"I know," Jahan interrupted, his face tight with frustration. "I know what they'll do. I just... I'm tired of running."

Solasra's gaze softened, and for a moment, she saw the exhaustion in her brother's eyes-the weight of everything they had been through, the constant fear, the uncertainty. She understood. She felt it too. But there was no room for hesitation now.

"We'll figure it out," she said quietly, her hand resting briefly on his arm. "We have to."

They reached the camp just as the morning was fully breaking. The fire had been stoked, and a few of the other families were already stirring, going about their morning routines, unaware of the danger that was creeping ever closer. Solasra's heart raced as she spotted their father near the fire, his tall frame unmistakable against the backdrop of the rising sun.

He turned as they approached, his sharp gaze immediately honing in on their expressions. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

Solasra glanced at Jahan before speaking. "We found someone. A boy. He's been watching us, but he says he's been protecting us from the Juroshan."

Her father's face hardened at the mention of the tribe's name. "Protecting us?"

"He says the Juroshan are coming for us," Jahan added, his voice tight. "They're close. They think we have something-a key."

Their father's brow furrowed, his expression unreadable. "A key?"

Solasra nodded, her mind racing. "He didn't explain everything, but he said they believe our family is the last link to finding something buried in the desert. Something powerful."

Her father was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched as he processed their words. The weight of what they were saying settled heavily between them, and Solasra could see the storm brewing behind his eyes.

"We need to leave," Solasra said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "We can't stay here. If they find us-"

Her father's gaze snapped to hers, and for a brief moment, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes-fear, maybe, or guilt. "We're not running again."

Jahan's eyes widened. "Father-"

"We've run enough," he said sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. "We're not running anymore. Not from them."

Solasra's heart sank. She had hoped her father would understand, would see the danger that was closing in around them. But his pride, his stubbornness, was stronger than his fear.

"They're coming," Solasra said, her voice rising in desperation. "We don't have time to fight them. We barely escaped the first time. If they find us-"

Her father's expression darkened. "We're not running."

Solasra opened her mouth to argue, but Jahan's hand on her arm stopped her. He shook his head slightly, his eyes pleading with her to stay calm.

"Father," Jahan said carefully, his voice measured. "What if the boy is right? What if they're closer than we think?"

Their father was silent, his gaze shifting toward the horizon, where the sun was beginning to rise fully over the dunes. The tension in his posture didn't ease, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

"I'll double the watch," he said finally, his voice low. "If they're coming, we'll be ready."

Solasra's heart sank. He wasn't listening. He wasn't willing to run again, not after everything they had been through. But she knew, deep down, that staying meant death.

She exchanged a glance with Jahan, who looked just as frustrated as she felt. But they couldn't force their father to leave. Not yet.

"We'll figure it out," Jahan muttered, his voice too low for their father to hear. "Somehow."

Solasra nodded, though the knot of dread in her chest only tightened. She didn't know how much time they had left, but one thing was clear.

The Juroshan were coming.

And they weren't ready.