Burn marks.
And when a small whiff of an unfortunately familiar stench reached my nostrils, it triggered an instant fear that released ashiver along my spine. “The Phoenix was here,” I asserted. My face puckered as if I had eaten a sour lemon as the memory of Aegir’s burned side resurfaced.
He burned for me, yet he said her name in no longer than one second.
I pushed my thoughts aside, focusing on my surroundings.
“Well, at least we can say that we found the exit,” Marshen said.
“Yes. We did. But so did the Naaris before us.” They managed to enter through what was deeply hidden…they managed to enter Ilma unseen through Crystal Bay. “They must have some kind of external help, some masked ally, I’m sure of it.” I spun around, trying to make sense of my setting.
“I think you might be onto something. They’re suspiciously sneaky, and not to mention the fact that they managed to hinder the people of Ilma from accessing their powers,” Marshen added.
“And they found the need to disturb what is sacred to Ramel, to Amfir,” I murmured.
I could tell that what they inflicted here was just that. The slope of soot-tinted rocky terrain, the scorched logs, and the shrivelled black roots gave it away. To say nothing of what looked like a sarcophagus in the centre of the vaulted cavern, its slab fractured in two at its side. My throat worked. We forced ourselves in between rocks and stalagmites that rose out of the grainy floor. I planted my feet and pushed myself along their slopes. I dared to peek inside, and so, I bravely took another two steps. I sometimes wish that I hadn’t done that, but curiosity always managed to get the best of me.
What I saw was a withered, mummified figure, its once-preserving embalming strips charred and brittle. It was hard to distinguish between desiccated flesh and scorched bandages, yet I could clearly observe its sunbaked, claylike mouth in betweenburnt strips. Agape, as if caught in an eternal, soundless scream. Its hands were also exposed, blackened bony digits rested on its lower belly. They appeared tight and clenched as if they were holding something precious. But there was nothing precious in that desecrated and singed sarcophagus.
“Let’s get the jolly fuck out of here,” Marshen urged the second he laid his eyes on the body.
“Yes,” I whispered. Yet for some reason, I remained stunned, feeling mournful and appalled as I looked into its hollow eye sockets. I hated the Naaris the moment Selmira explained why we had to ration water, and then I hated them more when I was old enough to understand that they were the reason why I couldn’t seek the healer Priestesses of Ilma. But now, now that I saw firsthand the disrespect and their destructive nature towards Amfir, towards my people—now Iloathedthem. I loathed them with every fibre of my body.
CHAPTER 56
“Wait, we cannot leave it like that,” I told Marshen, my gaze lingering on the opening that we had just crawled out of.
“You’re right, both man and cave should be kept as far away from each other. It’s best for both.”
We covered the opening with the damp blanket and set it in place using pieces of rock that we found lying around. Then we improvised, using my bag as a bucket as we transferred sand until the opening was fully concealed. It paled in comparison to a magical ward, but it was better than nothing.
“Where are we?” I mumbled. All we could see around us were undulations of sand dunes along a random, trailing connection of rocky ground.
Marshen grumbled something beneath his breath, then asked, “Are you sure legend says the caves lead to Dunehaven and not to the Arid Wastes?”
“Quite certain.”
“Well, I hope legend’s right,” Marshen said, handing me the waterskin, which ran dry after drinking the last two sips. He bit on his apple as he started his descent.
“Do you know which way you’re going?”
“North.”
“Do you know which way north is?” He only rolled his eyes at me. Then I said, “I wonder what day it is. I’m not sure if it’s a Saturday or a Sunday…or maybe it’s Monday.”
Marshen’s arm shot out, hitting me in the stomach. My head snapped towards him, brows drawn. Silence was cut with faint words, ones that answered my earlier question.
“Oh, for Amfir’s sake, why did this have to happen today? On a godsdamned Sunday of all days.”
“It’s Sunday,” Marshen remarked, keeping left along the dune. We followed the man’s voice.
The silver-haired man appeared hesitant at our approach, but then exhaled and lowered his head as if in surrender.
“You look like you’re in need of some help,” Marshen stated, gesturing towards the man’s carriage. One of its wheels was wedged in a crevice, locking it in place.
“I am indeed. I did not see the erosion—it was covered with sand, and unfortunately, I’m no Sand Wielder.” Marshen knelt, shovelling sand from around the wheel using his bare hands. “Thank Amfir for bringing you my way. I was delayed on a family matter and decided to take this godsdamned shortcut towards Dunehaven.” My face was already shining as I stood next to his mares, petting their foreheads. It gleamed at the mention of the town’s name. “Now I see why everyone avoids this route. But you see, it’s a Sunday. I need to get my market stall up and ready.” The man moved closer and asked, “What are you two doing wandering around here?”
“We’re also on our way to Dunehaven, got a bit lost,” I said, keeping my tone casual.
