The Names Our Children Will Know

Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Desert - Draft One

"Let's go," Jordan whispered. "If it's gone, we should get out while we can."

But Mark shook his head. "It'll be back, don't worry. We have to get away while it's distracted." He picked up Jordan's bag and tossed Tessa's to her. "Let's go."

"What about Wesson?" Jordan asked. "We can't just leave him."

"Yes we can–" Tessa started.

"We need to be sure that thing isn't coming back first," Mark finished. The two shared a surprised glance–they had been thinking the exact same thing at the same time.

"But he has the map!"

"He what?"

Jordan nearly stamped her foot in frustration. "He had the map, either in his pocket when we were caught or in his bag."

"If it was in his bag then it's gone forever, there's no way the slavers would have left it alone," Tessa murmured darkly.

"At least we know where we're going," Mark said. They headed back to the tent where Wesson and Ghost remained, collecting bags and belongings as they went. They saw the sand snake pass by a second time, but other than that, it left them largely alone to explore the camp.

Once they had collected everything, they returned to where Wesson was waiting for them. Mark and Wesson helped Tessa and Jordan distribute the weight of their belongings. Mark nearly shouted Tessa down when she offered to stay with him to provide a distraction for the sand snake. Instead, Mark insisted that everyone else would go on ahead. "I'll catch up later," he offered optimistically. Tessa only glared, sure that he wouldn't make it.

"Only take what you need," Mark insisted again, firmly ignoring Tessa. "You won't be able to carry much with just the three of you." He had tried to get Ghost to go with Wesson and the girls, but she was having none of it and just planted her feet in response.

"Trust me, we know already!" Tessa said. "There's not much we can cut out, though. We were already down to the bare minimum to start with."

"Mark, stop talking like you and Ghost won't make it," Jordan piped up. "You'll meet up with us in a couple miles, after you two get rid of the sand snake."

Mark and Ghost shared a glance. "Don't be so sure," Mark said finally. "It might take a little longer than a couple miles, Jordan. Don't wait for us, okay? Keep going. We'll find you after the sand snake is gone."

Jordan glanced from one to the other, a determined look on her face. "Be careful," she said finally.

Mark nodded and smiled. "Don't worry, we will be."

Jordan nodded stiffly. Then she, Wesson, and Tessa slipped out of the camp, walking slowly and as quietly as possible to avoid being spotted by the basilisk that was quickly growing bored with the emptiness of the camp.

The eerie stillness made Tessa more attuned to every sound the three of them made. Her breathing was loud and ragged in her ears, and every step was loud enough to wake the dead.

The three of them padded through the cluster of tents, weaving among the flapping canvas and snapping ropes. A hot breeze was picking up, blowing toward them from inside the desert, heavy with sand and dry as sun-bleached bones.

Tessa flinched when she felt it on her face. The wind would carry their scent to the basilisk and it would hunt them down with no regard to Mark and his dog.

Already she could hear its skin sliding across the sand, coming nearer and nearer until–

"Hey!" Mark called. His voice was muted by the sand, but it still carried over the camp. "Over here!"

From behind several coils of the snake, Ghost barked several times in quick succession, disorienting the snake. There was a snap of teeth and a dull thud as something hit the giant snake and a furious hissing and rattling filled the air.

"Gods above," Tessa whispered to herself. They were going to get eaten, she just knew it. But now Jordan was tugging her hand and urging her to run–they were sprinting out of the camp, heedless of the shrill–almost inhuman–scream that rang through the camp the moment they were free.

They ran and ran without stopping for nearly a mile before Wesson finally collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving.

"Have to... stop. Need to... breathe a moment."

Tessa pulled him to his feet again, but it didn't do any good, he just fell to the ground again.

"I think we c-can stop here," Jordan panted, nearly on her hands and knees as well. "It's not coming after us anymore."

Tessa nodded and slid her pack off her shoulders. "Now what?" She asked. "We don't have the map–we don't have any map at all. We don't have nearly enough supplies, and we're in the middle of a desert." All around them were empty, lifeless dunes of sand. As if to emphasize Tessa's words, a hot breeze blew sand in huge spirals over the empty plains.

"We could loop back to the border and try and find them from there," Wesson suggested without much hope.

"That might actually be a good idea," Tessa mused. "That's if this part of the border is really that close. I'm facing straight into the desert, tal? I know the border there is maybe a mile away. We could either end up finding the border right away and get back to the camp as soon as possible... or we might run parallel to the border until our supplies run out–"

"And we die," Wesson finished irritably. "And that's the more likely."

"Great job, Wesson, you've learned how to calculate probability," Tessa snapped. "Go sulk in the corner, you're the one that got us into this mess."

Wesson straightened. "Tessa, you would do well–"

"Mr. Wesson, I wouldn't antagonize her," Jordan spoke up suddenly. "She's not entirely wrong. It is your fault."

Wesson sputtered, "I would never!"

"You put out the call for adventurers without researching the dangers of the trip first, you wanted us to steal the map from Charles Per–"

"You let Mark sacrifice himself–" Jordan added insistantly.

"I KNOW," Wesson finally roared. "This whole trip was a mistake. We never should have left Faircliff."

"There's no helping it now," Tessa said firmly. "We might as well keep going, tal? We still have a city to save. I'm taking this chance to stop the plague before it gets any farther south. Our best hope is to get back to the border of the desert, there's a river there."

"The one that runs by Egenda?" Jordan asked. At the same time, Wesson asked, "The Karyot?"

"Yeah," Tessa replied. "It's water, even if it is mostly mud."

"That's not healthy–"

"Oh, so you'd rather die?"

"Well, no, but I don't want to die that way either!" Wesson was back on his feet now, nearly spitting in his fury.

Jordan stood up, too, exasperation written across her face. "Fine! You can stay out here and die, but Tessa and I are going to try and get ourselves out of this mess. Good luck, Mr. Wesson." She picked up her own pack and threw Tessa's at her. She started walking, stiff-backed and clearly furious.

Tessa stared after her in surprise–Jordan never snapped at anyone, ever. She chased after her sister and the two of them started walking back toward the edge of the desert. Wesson watched them go for a moment before picking up his own bag and following slowly after them.