An Island for a Cloud

4.1 How to ward off unwelcome guests

Thank you very much for reading this chapter. If you spot any spelling mistakes or awkward sentence structures, please be nice and let me know :)

Leivrat.

It was early morning when Shacha left the Orvatan den and walked to the old inn where she rented a small chamber. She was tired and dreaded the conversation that had to follow. She had to report what had occurred to the Masters of the Sands. There was no choice. They will not listen to her excuses, they will blame her.

Eight Deadly Swords take them!

She was so angry she wanted to break something.

Here she was rotting in this dreadful place for almost half a year. Still nowhere close to earning the right to return home.

How was she supposed to know that the prince would actually be stupid enough to come to Leivrat without any guards to protect him? If she had known that he would walk right into her arms, it would have been too easy to be true! All the Masters wanted was to get the prisoner back. The Queen of Aleuta had kept him in the dungeons underneath her palace for over four years and so far every attempt to release him failed. If the Masters had gotten the prince in their power, that would have given them something to trade with the Queen of Aleuta. That would have been enough to get the Masters to lift Shacha sentence that had banned her to Leivrat. She could be on her way home now!

But the opportunity was missed and she could only blame herself.

Shacha lived for the day she could go back to Sumi Sandul, the magnificent city in the sands. She missed the dryness of the air, the sandy dunes, and the sweetness of the smell that hovered over the city. She missed seeing the glass cupolas of the Sandul underground palaces, the perfectly shaped gardens and the cool rainbow springs. She missed listening to the beautiful voices of the night singers lulling her into sleep. Sanduls, her kind, were admired for their exquisite taste. Everything they did, they strived to sharpen to perfection. Sami Sandul was their most beautiful creation.

Leivrat, in comparison, was any Sanduls' worst nightmare. The humid air made her sweat incessantly, her skin looked moist and her limbs swollen.

How much she hated it!

Veilys slowly rotted alive in this dying place among old trees and dark stones they called home. Theirs was a rough life, where there was no place for beauty. If this was how Leivrat looked like six hundred years ago, she could not blame Aleutans for abandoning it and building a new city on the mountain.

Now that the chance had slipped through her fingers, for all Shacha knew, Leivrat would remain her prison for a very long time still.

Creators forbid, she could even die here!

She unlocked the door to her chamber and entered. The door screeched on rusty hooks, welcoming her back. She had never felt as lonely as now.

She closed the door behind her and felt a sudden chill. Gooseflesh pimpled her skin.

Someone grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, and the edge of a dagger pressed hard against her neck.

Her eyes fixed on the man sitting in her only chair.

"Pardon my friend," he said, nodding toward the one who held Shacha in a firm grip. "He hasn't been much around women and can be sometimes rough."

She narrowed her eyes, but there was not enough light coming through the small window for her to see the one who spoke well. Their smell betrayed them to her as Veilys.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked.

"I always hear the same two questions when I pay someone a visit. How boring." The man sighed. "I have many names. But most know me around here as King of the Dust."