adee (a-di) adjective
something that pleases the senses; beautiful
***
Tia was doing her best not to burst out and demand for Laku to shut up. In a mile or two, they would be crossing another dune. It had been days since he woke up and he had done nothing but talk about the desert and what Kalesch had told him about it. Yesterday, he discussed how he planned to take care of everything once they reached Mirache, the seaside trade village. "I know everything about ships," he had said. And then went on to talk about the ocean, how vast it was, and only stopped when Tia said she grew up surrounded by it.
Now, as they traveled through the night, he worried about Kalesch. The man's body was being carried by another horse along with their tents. And to his surprise, and also that of Nascha, it did not smell. By now, the two were starting to believe Tia and her magic and were now bickering how they should hide Kalesch's body once they reached Mirache. Laku suggested they should just wrap the man along with their tents and no one had to know he was there. That made Nascha blow up.
"He's adorable, isn't he?"
She would have answered aloud, but since Laku and Nascha were not aware of Zaria and Nym, she talked to the soul silently. "He's a joke."
Nym laughed, but also took the opportunity to talk to Tia. The last few days, she rarely gave them any attention to focus on her task. "Can I play later?"
"No. We need you to stay awake with us."
Nym was a djoser, a human compass. Or he used to be. Human, that is. When he was on the brink of death, his soul was saved and planted into Tia's great-grandmother. Unfortunately, they lost his body. Literally. They never found it again. But he still had his ability as a djoser. Thus, his soul was passed on from one generation to another until Tia received it from her mother. Djosers were rare. Many nations had them, and to have one was a great advantage. They did not just know where to go—they also find things.
"We almost got lost yesterday because of you," Zaria told Nym. "We could have died. We barely have enough food for the horses."
"I got us back on track, didn't I?"
"And we lost valuable time!"
"Quiet," Tia ordered, her head aching at the childish arguments—Nym and Zaria inside her head, and Nascha and Laku outside.
"But I want to play, Tia," Nym whined.
"You can play some other time."
"You always say that."
"I promise you'll get your time once we get on a ship."
The child seemed satisfied. Zaria was sleepy, so she retreated, useless in this journey as she claimed.
Tia looked to her right, realizing that the outside argument had also waned. Nascha was dozing off on top of her horse. Laku, on the other hand, thinking he won the recent argument about salt water, still buzzed with stories. Tia stopped her horse and jumped down. They might as well set up camp before sunrise.
"If we keep the same pace, we'll reach Mirache in a week," Nym said. That was fine with Tia. She did not want to tire herself, nor the others. She may have a djoser to show them the way, but she did not really have reliable companions if unexpected things happened. If they ever encountered anything that would require physical strength, she had to keep Nascha and Laku fit to fight.
They did not complain when she told them they needed to rest. Six nights of setting up camp, three with Laku and the other half with Nascha, the two women easily fell into a routine. Laku, of course, fell into his, which was sit around the fire Tia built to talk and watch while the women worked. They did not complain either because it gave them reason to push him into doing something: carry Kalesch' body into the tent.
At first, Laku made a lot of excuses. He recently injured his back, or Kalesch was too heavy, or he was the prince of the empire and thus should not be expected to work like a laborer. All of which did not work. Tia and Nascha only stared at him until he reluctantly moved and dragged his adviser's body into the tent.
They saved food and water as much as they could. Nascha had to constantly be on guard because Laku could be as sneaky as he was lazy. "If you don't talk too much, you might not need more water," Tia heard Nascha tell him on more than one occasion.
The fire was set, the tents erected with Kalesch in one, and the three of them chewed on roasted lamb meat, each portion just half the size of Laku's hand (as he complained multiple times).
"You know, I once traveled to Akash with my father."
Finally, Laku said something interesting for Tia. She turned to him and asked, "For what?"
"Peace," he said, eyes rolling up as he thought. "But then, it might have been more than that. I don't know. Can't remember much."
"You traveled to a land completely opposite yours and you don't remember much?"
"Why?" Nascha asked. "What's with Akash?"
"It's completely covered in snow," said Laku, grinning at Tia. "I remember that much, princess."
"So it's true. The stories," Nascha said with wonder. "What did you do there? Tell me—Was it cold?"
"Biting cold, that's what I remember telling my father. Very cold like the desert during winter, but it's different because you get wet because of the snow and if you're not careful, you could die." He looked ahead at the distant dune they would have to cross. "Fascinating how two things could be so opposite and still be equally beautiful." He winked at Tia. "Very much like us."
It was Nascha who groaned and rolled her eyes. "She will not like you if you keep on doing that."
"Doing what? Teasing her?"
"More like irritating her." Nascha looked at his skewer. "Are you done?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Then aren't you going to sleep?"
"I'm not sleepy."
"You were tired earlier before you had to deal with Kalesch."
"I was, but now I'm not."
Tia knew the only way she could free herself from the constant noise of the two. She stood and announced, "I'm going to sleep."
She crawled into her tent and sternly ordered Nym to rest. "No playing. I'm serious. We need you for the rest of the journey."
***
The silence that followed Laku's sleep was like the one Nascha suffered after a long day in the tomb, when the sound of hammer and chisel still rang in her ears on their way home. And even when it disappeared, she still dreaded it because she knew it would start again in the morning. But now, she anticipated Laku's silence because it meant one thing: obseumtozh.
She was also tired, but she kept herself awake. She took off her wrap because discomfort helped. A shiver ran through her as she absently stared at the flowers on the ground, but really, she was not staring. She was lost in nothing as she thought of nothing.
To keep her secret a secret, she stayed away from the camp. When she heard footsteps approach, she turned and found Laku walking toward her. She knew it was him, but she still silently waited as he instructed.
"Obseumtozh." At his word, her shoulders relaxed and she let out the breath she had been holding.
Kalesch—or Laku's body—walked closer and stopped to stand beside her. His gaze landed on the budding pink flowers at her feet. Beautiful in the eyes, poisonous to the touch.
"Well?" she asked, bending low to peer at his bent head.
He shook his head. "I can't figure out how to do it."
For two days now, Kalesch had been trying to regain consciousness while Laku was awake. He could feel he could do it, he said. When she asked, he said he could feel Laku's presence whenever the prince was awake. "Like I'm asleep but on the brink of waking up. I can hear him, but I can't force myself to stir away."
"Like a nightmare?"
"No. More like I've been working for seven straight days and finally got to rest. My mind is awake, but my body is not."
"Well, your body is not awake, in case you forgot," she had said, but he did not laugh at her humor. He only said, "But I think I can do it."
Now, three nights later, she was not so sure. But she did not tell him that. It was bad enough that he was half-dead. "Maybe you need to practice or something. Train your mind." She straightened and sighed. "We can really use your silence while on the move."
Kalesch turned to her. Or rather, Laku's body did. And Laku's brows fused in the way Kalesch willed it. "You like my silence, or you dislike the absence of his?"
"Both," she said. "I'm glad you're not a chatter."
They fell silent for a moment. She did not mean to insinuate that she liked him, but what she said was true. Being in Laku's presence for three straight days was exhausting. If she were home, she would have loved to be alone with her thoughts. But on this journey, she wanted a companion who could give her peace while feeling safe. She did not know Tia well enough and she may never feel safe with the woman. Laku was just too talkative to even allow her peace.
"What did it feel like?" She asked the question that she was hesitant to ask the first night he woke up. She looked at him, trying to imagine his real face. "When you were...pulled out of your own body."
As he stared at her, oddly very Kalesch in all ways except that he did not look like his face, Nascha thought he would not answer. But he said, "I felt everything."
"What do you mean?"
"It was painful," he said. "The kind of pain I never experienced. But the moment it was over, it was...serene."
Then maybe you're really dead. She did not also tell him that. That was just horrible. "How do you think she did it?" she asked, stealing the camp a glance. The fire was still going, and Tia's tent was closed.
"I don't know," Kalesch said, looking at the horizon. She scoffed and he asked, "What?"
"I just realized that the great Kalesch Djozeh does not know everything after all."
"I never claimed to know everything."
She sighed. "We should make that announcement once we return home."
They fell silent, the one she liked. One with a companion, one with security and peace. The feeling overwhelmed her again. What was wrong with her? She sniffed and she knew he knew she was crying and he let her. She was tired of their journey, she was afraid of what would come. She was afraid of herself, of what she had created. And she was frightened to encounter people like Tia, ones who could conjure magic. And most of all, she was afraid she may never get Kalesch back home.
"The fact that she can do this kind of magic should make us wary. We have to keep this a secret."
She sniffled, wiping her tears, blinking the rest back. "I know. You already said that."
"You can't tell Laku."
"I know."
"We have to reach Kgosi and go to—"
"—the Great Library, I know," she interjected. "To know more about the last Oracle."
He looked at her again, his face patient. "You must be annoyed."
"You keep repeating your instructions as if I'm a child."
He nodded. "I'm sorry. I can't help it."
She stole him a glance. "You're used to things being in order and to seeing your plans take action."
"No, I'm used to always being there," he said. "Knowing what Laku does and preventing his mistakes before he makes them."
"You were not always there there," she murmured.
"What?"
"Nothing," she said, looking away.
"What do you mean by what you said?"
"Nothing."
"Nascha..."
She sighed. "I only meant that you were not always there... I mean here, in Tomesh."
"You mean with you."
She did not reply. Instead, she kept her gaze on the dark horizon. They were rayeshkas, but they were not really. She had not yet reached her twenty-first rain. And he liked Alika, whom they had not yet discussed. Was he mourning her death? He must be. But she refused to talk about the woman who tried to kill her. "But I'm glad you're here now," she murmured. "To remind me of our goal. Reach Kgosi and get to the Great Library." She met his gaze. "After everything we went through, with the journey we're taking, it's easy to forget why we left home in the first place."
He nodded. She wished he said something that would give her strength or comfort. But then she thought maybe he needed it more. He was the one stripped off his own body and trapped in someone else's, after all.
"I have to go," he said, turning away.
She blinked. "Already?"
"Laku needs to rest."
"I'm almost done writing the stories," she said. That made him stop walking. "You should start telling me the ones you memorized so we can document them."
He nodded and lifted his hand and guided her back to the camp, his fingers lightly closed around her arm. Weird, but surprisingly pleasant. Warm, too.
"Will you come out tomorrow night?" she asked in a whisper.
"I might."
"Might? You mean you're not sure?" Why? What could a soul be busy about?
"Maybe."
He let go and urged her toward her tent. "Go and rest, Nascha," he whispered.
***
To travel while the sun was high was almost impossible in the dunes. The heat loosened the sands, pulling them halfway back with each step, making the distance seem twice as long. If they wanted to cover more distance, they had to wait until midafternoon and continue for hours until they found a good face in a dune to set up camp.
Most days, they slept well. Not another living thing came their way except for the occasional sand creatures—lizards, scorpions and the likes—that Nascha captured for them to eat. No danger seemed to be coming. But on their fifth day, they reached the most dangerous part of the desert: the dead sea. An endless flat land with scattered bones of lost travelers, it was feared by many, even the people of Tomesh. And in the blasting heat of the sun, it played with the mind. The mirage could lure a tired and desperate traveler toward an endless journey, giving them an illusion of water on the horizon, only they were not walking toward an oasis, but their death. Only the most experienced, those who could read the stars and the wind, could survive the dangerous crossing.
Tia had to pay extra close attention to their supply of water, stored in goatskin, for this journey. She did not worry about direction because she had Nym. What she worried about was the signs of life a few days away from them. Earlier, she noted camel droppings, perhaps a few days old. It could mean a caravan. And a caravan meant people and she did not want to be bothered by them. And Laku would prove uncontrollable if he ever met another soul.
"We should head northeast," Nym told her, and so they did while she warded off questions from her two companions. How did she know the way? Where was her compass? They were easily distracted, Tia found out. She would just bring up a topic and Laku would immediately jump on it. And Nascha would shut off, expertly pretending she was listening.
For the first time, they had to set up camp in an open field of nothing and they all felt uncomfortable. "It's like I'm naked," Laku complained before he went to sleep. Tia agreed, but she was as eager as them to reach their destination. Once this last leg of their journey was over, once they reached the sea, they would jump into a ship and reach Kgosi.
And she would join her brothers.
And then they would reclaim their land.
"I can feel something coming our way," Nym told her.
"What?"
"I can't tell. It's moving fast."
"Must be wind," Zaria said. "You once caused panic, remember? You think we were about to get attacked. It turned out to be a storm."
"I don't know. It's different. I don't know what it is."
By morning the next day, as they were sleeping, they found out it was not a storm. In fact, after what happened next, Tia hoped it was a storm.
She woke up feeling like she was swaying, as if she was on top of a graceful camel. No, not that, she thought as she sat, studying her thick blanket, her small tent. It felt like being on a boat.
With a frown, she crawled out of her tent and found Nascha's head poking out of hers. Laku was still asleep in his. "What's happening?" Nascha asked, voice laced with alarm, her black hair a mess, tangled with the rings and thick strands.
She did not reply and instead searched for Nym. But the child was not around like he always was whenever he was afraid. Zaria was as confused, on the verge of panic.
Then she heard it. A rustle. And she looked down and found the sands moving in a fluid motion. Like the ocean. Her eyes flew to the other tents and realized they were moving, too. Like debris floating in the sea. And beyond...
Beyond, what should have been a flat, vast desert was now rows of rolling golden hills.
Waves.
Moving like the sea.
Nascha yelped when a big sand wave carried them on top, tents and horses all once. But unlike the ocean, the float was compact. But that did not mean they did not sink. For a split second, she wondered what it would feel like to drown in sand.
"Move slow!" Nascha shouted when Tia scrambled out of her tent. Tia swallowed, confused. The waves of sands continued—a small one, a big one. Nascha, a woman of the desert, lightly moved to the next tent. As she shook Laku awake, she shouted for Tia to get Kalesch.
"What's happening?" she asked Nascha.
"I don't know!" Nascha said, but somehow, Tia could tell she knew something.
Tia wadded her way toward the sinking tent as the horses neighed not far away, struggling to keep afloat. She reached for the end of the wrap that covered Kalesch's body and waited for the next wave to carry it back on the surface before she pulled.
Somewhere, she heard Laku screaming. And Nascha screaming for him to shut up. Get the horses! Save the tent! Close your mouth!
Heart racing, her hands tight around Kalesch's wrap, Tia looked ahead and her eyes widened in both horror and wonder.
A giant wave as high as the hills of dunes they left behind was coming their way, sending ripples of tiny waves.
And there, approaching them, was the thing Nym could not name. Something that should not be in the desert or anywhere on land.
A giant ship.