erel, relax.” Arn said as he prodded the fire with a stick. “Its always like this. As I said, the spirits are harmless.”

“So what do you think…he’s thirteen and ran away from his master or something?” Hebek said suddenly. “I mean, no offense, you are a good archer and you were great out there, but you are really too young to be seeking ascension. So did your master beat you?”

“No. I love my master.” Dale pulled her blanket closer and leaned against Demen who was already asleep against the wall. She admired the warrior’s ability to sleep anywhere.

“You can tell us if you want. The young ones tend to break out here…especially the weedy ones.” Hebek said with an almost joyful tone of voice.

“My secrets are my own and I am older than I appear.” Dale tried to keep the acid out of her voice. She had fought and ran all day to be called a weed by a woman who was no great physical specimen?

“Oh really?” Hebek gave her a calculating look. Dale drew her hood over her face and pulled up her mask to keep out the dust. The necromancer finally understood that the conversation was over and retreated to the other side of the fire where Arn and Daneska were talking. Serul crept in from the shadows licking the remains of some rodent from his fangs. The wolf laid down next to her, effectively blocking much of the wind as she tried to sleep. She scooted down beside the wolf and curled against him. Serul grumbled contentedly as she scratched his back.

“Thank you Serul.” She felt some of his emotions filter through her mind; just a little kindliness and fellow feeling. He was also very tired and the heat had taken a great toll. “Sorry…you do have a huge fur coat.”

She woke damp and shivering on the sand. Dew had settled on every surface, tiny drops glowing orange in the first rays of sun. She stretched and smelled bread on the iron; her belly groaned in response and she was almost immediately on her feet. Serul had left, no doubt to find his own breakfast. She approached the fire gratefully and saw that she had been the last up.

“He rises from the sleep of the dead.” The monk snickered. “Eat some bread…make sure your pack is ready, we need to move quickly like we did yesterday.”

She took the offered bread and ate between swallows of foul tasting water and what seemed overly generous portions of sand and flies. She had a last bite and already Demen was standing and waiting with Kail at his side. Dale sprang to her feet and rolled up her blanket, hastily stuffed it into her pack. Arn hung the cooking iron from his pack and they were off through the courtyard before any other camp had risen.

“They’ll suffer for the extra sleep later today.” Arn said with a grin. ”Before we envy them the rest.”

They headed south. They stopped at midday again to rest out the worst that the Crystal Desert had to offer. Arn seemed to know every nook and led them to a tiny oasis with a rock cave and a small pool of water. They soaked their cloaks and blankets to drape on themselves and cool in the breeze. Serul simply rolled until he was covered in mud and positioned himself in the shade of a palm tree. Dale saw a hare on the opposite side of the little basin, crouched in the shade of a boulder. As a survivor of the desolation of Ascalon she was always alert to such opportunities and there had not been much meat lately. She sat up slowly and pulled an arrow from her quiver.

A rock thumped into the earth next to the hare and it bounded away and over the rise. Hebek broke into furious laughter over Dale’s shoulder. She gave the necromancer a quizzical frown.

“I just thought….”

“Ever heard a rabbit scream?”

“Yes…but I usually kill immediately.”

“There are many predators out here who would be attracted if you winged it. They would not only find the bunny, they would also find us. So, we eat bread and we love bread.”

“I understand.” Dale slumped back into the precious shade of the little cave. She watched the dust devils play over the ridges of sand and the shadows slowly crawl across the tawny landscape. The silence preyed on her; her companions were napping now, with herself as gaurd by default. When the first bird came to drink in the late afternoon she decided to awaken them; the sun was lower and shade lined the crests of the dunes. They ate some dry bread and moved on, following Arn’s back. Next to her, Serul trotted along with a thick coat of mud on his fur.

They passed through a landscape that was blasted by the sere winds. Great ribs of gigantic beats reared through the sand and their skulls rested half buried. Here and there she glimpsed a graven stone tower or pieces of bleached wood jutting from the earth. People had been here many times in the past. What was so special about the desert? Certainly, as she caught her breath following Arn’s furious pace, it could not be the heat or the innumerable flies that were settling on them now that the sun was low on the horizon. Or the freakish gusting wind that brought with it stinging shards of sand and a faint odor of dry decay.

She saw Arn casting about the path looking for a good place to camp. He finally led them into a cleft in the hills where the wind was somewhat less terrible. Demen began to put a fire together, as if by principal but the other warrior shook his head.

“There’s enchanted weapons out here. They’ll home in on anything we light. Let’s just get close together to be warm. Tomorrow we’ll have the safety of walls to rest in.”

They did as he said, and once again Dale found herself between Serul and the bulky figure of Demen. The warrior was hopelessly oblivious to her, crushing her against the wall and forcing Serul to position himself at her head. She finally found a little more space and rolled up in her blanket on the sand.

Dale woke dimly to someone talking in a panicking tone of voice. It was very dark and the wind was raging over the desert. She could feel the sting of sand on the bare flesh of her neck. She pulled the blanket up and realized it was Daneska talking.

“Something is here.”

Dale sat up and blinked. In the darkness she could only see the glitter of jewels at Daneksa’s throat. She turned her attention to the entry of their refuge. She squinted and listened but could not discern anything.

“I don’t see anything.”

“They have little minds…they mean ill. They are there.”

“As long as they leave us until light…we can get some rest. Go to sleep.”

It was Demen, who had been woken by Dale’s movements. The warrior rolled in his blanket, forcing Dale to flatten herself against a boulder. Serul growled in irritation. Dale wriggled out of the sliver of space, took her blanket and found a spot nearer the front of the camp. She curled up with Serul close beside her, faithfully blocking the screaming wind. Dale dozed for a few minutes or maybe an hour when something prodded her leg. Serul gave a sudden shuddering snarl. She scrambled out of the blanket as the sound of the wind was overwhelmed by the crack of breaking earth and chitinous limbs unfolding.

She shouted as loud as she could and began kicking at the feet of anyone she could reach. Behind her Serul was snarling and snapping, his large form keeping the invaders at bay. In a moment the camp was a cramped and dark chaos of people trying to find weapons. Dale finally found her bow as a pale violet light filled the cavern – Daneska had found her staff. It was enough to see that Serul was defending them from at least ten scarabs. He was agile but Dale could almost feel the pain in her own flesh as he did not avoid all blows or any of the curses that they laced upon him.

“Too many…” Arn sighed, raising his axe and clashing forward. Demen said nothing as he went into the fray, laying about himself with his massive hammer. Dale could see Serul was flagging even as she raised her bow; they needed him now more than ever, to keep the creatures from Kail, who was already sending azure tendrils of energy to help the warriors. She concentrated for a brief moment and let herself open to Serul’s injuries. She felt his relief and also his encouragement to her; his old master had healed him as well. She pushed herself to understand and then there was a feeling of strange oneness. As if she was in the flesh of the wolf himself. There was also excruciating pain. Serul lunged with renewed energy as Dale fought to master the sensation.

The situation was desperate enough that she steeled herself to keep shooting the bow, even though Serul’s shared suffering continued to assault her strength. However the scarabs pushed forward, forcing them back into the tiny area. Still, none of them had fallen; there was so little light to see by; Daneska’s power waned occasionally and utter darkness would fall for many long seconds. So it was that she found herself in among the insects and fighting for her life; dagger in one hand, having lost her bow as they rushed forward. She was forced to move backwards when she found a knob of rock blocked her way.

Serul tried to shove anything that approached, but one bit her arm and another slashed her belly. Still she could hear the warriors and finally the crackling noise of Hebek making minions as a few fell. Bleeding and poisoned she hoped that it would be enough as she stabbed desperately at the three scarabs that kept her from rejoining her companions.

While she kicked and stabbed at them, she managed to rifle her bottle of troll unguent from a pouch and apply it. She felt some relief, but the punishment Serul was taking stabbed at her combined with the venom and the bruising blows from the creatures.

“Tarel! Where is he?” The monk called from somewhere far away. Dale realized that in fighting and trying to escape that she had stumbled out of the sheltered camp. As she backed away again from the scarabs, the full fury of the desert winds struck her back. Distantly she could see the glow of Daneska and Kail casting spells and occasionally the dull almost lightless flash of necromancy from either Hebek or the monsters themselves. She slashed desperately at the scarabs, feeling life sliding away through wounds and venom. Serul managed to kill one, but they retreated steadily together.

“Tarel!” Came a last muffled call that was lost on the wind.

Dale finally managed to wedge the blade into the joint between head and thorax. She felt sticky ichor run over her hands. It whirred angrily, but between this and Serul’s attacks it fell at their feet, leaving just one in the howling darkness. She tried to edge around it, but it lunged forward and knocked her to the earth. She felt its jaws rip into her leg. With her free foot she kicked and then stabbed up with the blade. Serul snapped and she felt a deep pain in her body as the wolf received a heavy blow from the insect. The world blurred, but she managed to get to her feet and continue defending herself; there was nothing else to do. The light of Daneska’s staff had vanished. If they were calling for her, the wind swallowed their voices.

She could not see now, but the wolf fought on as she merely moved to try and avoid being killed. She finally heard the monster give a shuddering sigh and fall. She dropped to her knees and panted, dabbing at a few wounds with unguent. It was barely enough to counteract the poison. Serul licked her face and she could feel his intense worry for her, even through his own terrible wounds. He sat beside her and howled as if competing with the shredding wind.

Dale pulled her cloak tighter and pulled her mask over her eyes, feeling weaker by the moment and imagining that this was the end. It was so dark. She could feel Serul digging in the sand near her. She felt herself drop a little into the sand and then a little deeper; he was getting her out of the wind. He burrowed in beside her and they lay together for awhile; the sand under the surface was pleasantly warm from the day’s heat. The warmth and shelter returned some of her senses and she applied the last of the troll unguent. Dale felt her body’s exhaustion overtake her and she fainted.

“Terel?”

She woke with her body half buried in sand. She saw an armored foot and followed it to look up at Arn. It was early morning and bitingly cold. Kail was already digging the sand away and jumped back when Serul rose out of the dune like a surfacing monster. The wolf looked awful; there was no place on his hide that did not have blood or ichor on it, yet he turned and started helping Kail get Dale out of the sand. Arn finally dragged her out by an arm and she lay on the sand with the party staring at her as the monk looked at wounds.

“You know, you need to stay with the group?” Kail said as he surveyed her battered form.

“They had me cornered…and I lost the sense of where I was at…and I lost my bow.” Dale grunted as the monk pulled bits of sand and rock from open wounds.

“You should be dead after that…all of these wounds are full of poison, though you seem to have overcome it alright.” Kail pulled off her boots to get at the most obvious of the injuries. His hands knitted the flesh back together and the monk reached up to unlace her chest piece. Dale sat up and scooted away on her bottom. There was a wound where one of the monsters had punctured her armor, but she felt it was not urgent.

“I’m fine.”

“He looks good enough…we need to move. We’ll be at an oasis tonight, if he still has open wounds he can cleanse them there.” Arn broke in. The monk shrugged.

“He’s still weak from blood loss and probably a little venom still, but if you insist.” Kail helped Dale to her feet. The monk could not resist but send a surge of healing energy into her. She felt a little more energy in her body as a few more bruises and cuts healed

“Serul…can you help him? He’s standing like he’s made of stone, but he’s in great pain.” Dale asked. “Please?”

Kail turned to observe the wolf and said a few words. Dale felt his painful gloom in her mind lift. The wolf stretched and shook himself out a little, but he still looked like some creature from hell itself with his carapace of gore. They moved on with Dale trailing them. She had a fever when they stopped for the evening, though she did her best to hide it from the others. Kail approached her angrily and dragged her into some deep shade away from the party, most of whom were dozing.

“I know you are a woman…just let me see what is wrong with you.”

Dale stared at the monk in shock, but obeyed in silence, unlacing the thick leather chest piece and allowing Kail to lift up the bloody folds of the soft tunic she wore underneath it. The monk made a sound of disgust.

“Need to clean that first – bits of its jaws broke off in there and they are such filthy creatures…which is why my healing did not work…” Kail had her take off the armor completely before he washed the wound and picked out the offending pieces of mandible.

“So how long have you known?”

“Oh, when I took off your boots this morning…such dainty legs and little feet …when you’ve taken care of as many people as I have…you learn to spot little things. You confirmed it by reacting the way you did.”

“Please don’t tell the rest of them.”

“Well, I have no idea what you are hiding from. Perhaps if I knew I could decide, otherwise I worry that it would be unfair for the leader of our group not to know.”

“I’m just as good as any other ranger.”

“Yes, you are.” Kail said a few prayers and the infected wound finally sealed up. “It’s just if you are wanted or someone is chasing you, he ought to know. There’s no reason for subterfuge; you must have something to hide.”

“I really cannot say.”

“That bad, eh?”

“I promise you that I am not a criminal.”

“I will watch you, and if I become suspicious, I will tell Arn.”

“Alright.” Dale moved to put her armor back on. The monk had already walked back to where the others were sleeping. She called to the wolf and watched him come limping towards her, dripping and muddy from the oasis. He had been cleaning himself but there were still clumps of blood and ichor clinging to him. Dale spent the remaining light of the day teasing the clots from his fur.