The second sun had reached its apex in the sky on its trajectory across the endless sea of sky above the exhausted caravan. The constant baking wind and scorched air even seemed to be affecting the horses as well. Dayanik hoped to find more falsewell at the oasis; typically, any lush watering ground would lend a few stems of the well, and he could make a poultice well enough to last them the remainder of the journey. He rubbed Ket’s neck reassuringly, the steed’s fur cool to the touch, the last of the falsewell mixture holding steady as they powered on through to the oasis. “We’ll be there soon, my friend,” he whispered gently, Ket nickering in response as the mount seemed concentrated and motivated to reach the oasis soon.

  “There!” Lida shouted from up ahead. Sekant had surprisingly let her take point since the morning, her energy the fullest after the exhaustion of the battle from the night before drained Dayanik and even Sekant.

  Dayanik eyed where she pointed from atop her mount, though the hot hazy horizon played tricks on his vision too many times for him to trust what he saw at first, but as they continued their approach, he knew those trees sprouting tall from the ground was no mirage.

  Gem lanterns buzzed about the highest tips of the palm trees, soaking in the rays of sunshine, and other small insects buzzed about under the shades of the leaves of the trees. The horses first went to the water, ignoring flies that buzzed about their tails. A good bath seems to be in order for all of us, Sekant mused to himself, smiling now that he felt his troubles begin to dissipate like steam on this hot day. Though it marked only the halfway point, the respite of the oasis brought with it a renewed vigor along with a filled waterskin. Creatures that looked to be a mixture of mice, with rabbit-like ears and splotched, white fur, huddled together at one end of the waterbed. The size of the oasis was large enough that Dayanik figured it likely even retained some bit of moisture during the driest spells of the desert, though with the heat of the suns oppressively beating down upon him, he wondered how the water could truly fail to evaporate in the long summer days. Sekant mentioned something about underground water systems, wells and waterways that stretched like veins deep under the desert sands. It was a wonder that such a place existed in such a harsh environment. A yellow-furred fox strolled up to the water, and Dayanik’s heart sank for a moment for the mice, but the family of rodents seemed to not notice the fox’s approach, and the fox lazily walked past the prey, lapping up the water. Dayanik cocked his head, confused at the docile behavior of the fox.

  Sekant noticed Dayanik’s confused stare. “Predators and prey alike need this water to survive. There’s a…respect for the mutual need.”

  “Sounds very human of them,” Dayanik responded, his eyes remaining affixed.

  Sekant chuckled. “Hardly. Can you imagine a human letting his enemy get water, rather than letting him die of thirst? We don’t take into consideration the balance of the world; that fox knows that if it kills those mice, the mice can’t repopulate their link in the food chain. Animals lack gluttony, and humans lack the survival instincts to treat their enemies like prey. Most humans, anyway,” he said, voice trailing off. He nodded, gesturing for Dayanik to look to other corners of the oasis. Sure enough, there were dozens of creatures gathered round replenishing their water for the day. It was curious to see so many creatures of the desert gathered here, considering how far they might need to travel back to return to whatever shelter they had made for themselves.

  “You seem to know a lot about treating enemies like prey,” Lida said cooly. The night before had invigorated her energy, but seemed to not assuage her concerns about Sekant’s mysterious past. “And that bandit, he knew you,” she said in between sips of water.

  It was a bit concerning, Dayanik had to admit. That the bandit seemed to have enough knowledge about Sekant that he would have a preconceived opinion about him portended similar encounters in the future.

  Sekant simply shrugged her off as he sipped on the cool water dipped straight out of the translucent pool. “Clearly, he was mistaken.”

  Lida shook her head, laughing to herself in annoyance, “how long will you play at being a mystery? We’ve been traveling together for weeks now. You’ve kept us alive.”

  “You’ve kept yourselves alive, for the most part.”

  “Then why can’t you just trust us at least?” she asked, her voice brimming with annoyance.

  “You know as much as you need to,” Sekant said, his aloof and disenchanted nature driving Lida to madness. “I’ve made my promise to travel to the capital, and if you are to travel with me, I will protect you as best as I can. But I’ve made no promise to do more than that. We aren’t friends,” he said in the manner of an elder sibling bored from entertaining a younger sibling.

  Lida growled in frustration, “who would want to be your friend anyways!” and got up, storming away to another shaded portion of the grassland surrounding the oasis.

  Dayanik, quiet this whole exchange, didn’t bother to try and make eye contact with Sekant, who would be staring off at nothing in his typical manner. “She only asks because she’s grown to care about you, you know?”

  Sekant remained silent for a moment. He started as if he hadn’t heard Dayanik spoke, ignoring the question, “you’ve barely drank much water. Don’t forget that half the journey remains ahead of us.”

  Dayanik smiled at the genuine concern masked in false bravado. “I suppose abnegation is a habit from the church,” and took a large swig of water from the skin, munching on a sliver of lockjaw root. He enjoyed the sour, sweet taste of the pickled root and had quietly kept a large store that he had stored away from Ferri Syth. He laughed at the irony, realizing that such a snack was meant more as a survival food ration, rather than something to enjoy.

  “Whatever the cause is, letting yourself get dehydrated simply puts us all at risk,” Sekant said, unamused.

  Dayanik pursed his lips together. He’s right, I’ve been nothing but a liability this whole time, no matter what happened last night. Last year at this time, Dayanik would have already turned and fled from this challenge. Hells, he wouldn’t have even started it. Perhaps it was Lida giving him strength that helped him start this journey, but he hoped desperately that he could find it soon.

  Using a soaked bit of one of his shirts, Dayanik washed his neck and upper back, then rinsed the sweat off and scrubbed his face, letting the cool cloth shield him from the heat on his skin for a few moments. He then wrapped the cloth around his neck, cooling him from the top of his spine down. Lida had returned from her self-enforced exile and the three started upon their journey again, Ket and Biriki, along with the other two horses, nibbling gratefully on the new falsewell poultice Dayanik had made. “If we hurry, we’ll leave the desert in two days and reach the capital by the third,” Sekant announced, clicking his tongue as he took off at a slow trot along a path of packed sands.

  As the sky darkened into brilliant, contrasting shades of color splashing into each other with the suns setting beyond the horizon, the pace of the three slowed. They had been at a trotting pace for a few hours now, Ket strengthened by the falsewell but still exhausted, Dayanik could sense. With the horses already at a walking pace, the three dismounted the steeds for a rest and began to walk the path while the sky was still light enough to see easily, but Dayanik could see that Sekant was anxiously scanning the scenery for a place to camp.

  “What’s the rush, full nightfall seems like it’s nearly an hour away?” Dayanik asked, nervous now at Sekant’s demeanor change.

  “We’re in matron territory,” Sekant responded hurriedly.

  “We’re in what territory?” Lida asked, confused.

  Sekant didn’t answer, instead, taking them off the main packed sand path up one of the surrounding dunes to get a better vantage of the surrounding area. There was a large rocky outcropping similar to the one they had sheltered at the night before in the distance. He waved for the other two to follow. He picked up his pace, leading his horse through the shifting sands as steadily as possible despite the difficult terrain.

  Lida and Dayanik did their best to follow, but nearly stumbled over themselves, wary of their mounts tripping and falling as well. “Why are we in running?!” Lida asked, panting as she struggled to stay upright. Dayanik had already fallen to his knees twice due to the shifting desert scape. Sekant gave no answer, his distance growing. Finally, they reached the rocky outcropping, but Sekant seemed no less anxious, scanning the shelter for something unknown to the others.

  “Is it the bandits?” Dayanik asked hesitantly.

  Sekant shook his head, but he relented in his search, letting out a sigh of relief. “We should be safe here for the night.”

  “Why the frantic search?!” Lida asked as she unloaded her packs from her horse.

  “Looking for skeletal remains. Matrons would pick bones clean, but they’re too large to leave whole skeletons, they’d crush whatever they ate. I needed to see if I could find anything in the outcropping to suggest they’re nearby,” he answered. He sounded shaken, but removed his pack calmly as well.

  “What’s a matron?” Lida countered.

  “Amaranth matrons,” Dayanik answered on Sekant’s behalf, his voice low. “Keepers of the desert, they’re one of the greatest hunters in the Expanse; it’s half the reason for the Expanse’s name. They’re forty feet long, twenty feet tall, with chitinous flesh that only the sharpest blades could hope to penetrate. They can kill entire traveling parties of pilgrims making their way to the Holy City in minutes.”

  “How come we haven’t seen any before?” Lida asked.

  “There’s few of them,” Sekant now answered. “Females kill the males of the species after mating, and will eat any of their children deemed unfit.”

  Lida simply shuddered at the thought.

  “Have you seen any in person before?” Dayanik asked Sekant, hopeful.

  Sekant shook his head again, “and I’m glad I haven’t. A few bandits is one thing, but a matron…” he paused for a moment, but seeing the worried looks on their faces, he gave a reassuring smile of false bravado, “luckily, there’s hardly half a dozen in the entire Expanse. Sightings are rare, we’ll be fine.”

  “Wh- how rare?!” Lida asked, more desperation in her voice now.

  “C’mon, Lida, I’m sure if we were in that much danger, we would have seen signs by now,” Dayanik soothed her with a confident smile. Though he had heard rumors and stories, lessons about Amaranth matrons were scarce and vague, considering they had no archaeological remnants, no fossils or accurate depictions. Some of the more conservative teachers in the capital had even asserted haughtily that Amune had wiped the matrons out when he ascended to godhood, as they were considered creatures that soaked up the Darkness and were thus casualties in Amune’s war against the Darkness thousands of years ago.

  As they unpacked and settled in with the rising moons, though, Sekant remained restless. This rocky outcropping was far larger than the one that they had sheltered at the night before, like a large island in a vast ocean of tinted sands. “I need to do another patrol,” he said under his breath to Dayanik. Strangely, Sekant seemed to trust Dayanik more in this situation than Lida, despite her far more consistent demonstrations of bravery.

  “Okay,” Dayanik whispered hoarsely back. “What are we to do?”

  “Keep her calm,” Sekant ordered firmly, “and stay alert. I have a bad feeling.”

  “Why?” Dayanik asked, barely managing to keep a whisper as fear began to well up inside him.

  “There have been no signs of the matrons, even though this is the primary center of their territory. That can mean one of two things: they are hibernating, which would be good… or they are awaiting a hatching, with fresh kills stored in their burrows as they await their brood, their hatchery, to be born,” Sekant explained. His voice was rushed as he tried to explain the situation, without an ounce of ease to it.

  “And…if they’re waiting a hatching?”

  Sekant nodded as his eyes dropped out of focus, imagining the scenario. “Even with stored foods for their young, matron hatchlings are ravenous creatures. Mothers of hatchlings must hunt immediately upon the hatching.”

  Dayanik simply gulped, looking back at Lida, who was feeding her horse.

  “Typically, matrons simply stay within a limited range of their burrow, but their territory expands greatly upon a hatching. There’s no way to circumvent their territory without adding too much time to our journey. It’s either we risk the hunt…or die of thirst.”

  Dayanik steadied himself, noticing his palms sweating despite the cool, still air. “Doesn’t sound like much of a choice then,” he said, as firmly as he could manage.

  Sekant grinned a bit. “You’ve got far more strength than your diffident image lets on, Dayanik.” Dayanik hid the pride beaming out of him, nodding approval. Then, without a moment’s waste, Sekant bounded off, prompting Lida to turn from the horses to watch him climb up the rocky outcropping away. Lida turned to Dayanik, who smiled nervously and shrugged, laughing to himself.

  Two hours later, Sekant returned, their campfire smoldering quietly, Dayanik and Lida having already eaten some roasted cacti they had collected the day before. They both shot up, glancing at each other as they waited on his word expectantly. Sekant shook his head as he sat down with them, the glowing embers of the fire only faintly illuminating his pale, tired-looking features. “We got lucky,” he spoke slowly, catching his breath. “There’s matron activity, but they’re far northeast enough of us that we can avoid them. Nearly a dozen miles east of our path.”

  Lida and Dayanik both let out sighs of relief. “Do you know if they’re monitoring for a hatching?” Dayanik asked. Lida looked at him confused; Dayanik had kept the conversation he had with Sekant earlier quiet.

  Sekant shrugged, pulling out a wineskin, disappointed at the pull being pure oasis water. “Can’t really tell at the distance. It’s certainly resting, but it’s not in hibernation. When they’re in hibernation, they hide underground. The fact I could see the floral plumes means it’s not burrowed for any long rest.”

  “Should we leave now?” Lida asked, her nerves mostly quelled, but her adrenaline was now pushing her to be beyond the reach of the creatures.

  “Rest,” Sekant shook his head. “We’ll leave before first light. Remember, only one more night in the desert, but only if we rest enough to keep a good pace tomorrow.”

  And so, the three rested, and as promised, they all awoke silently, separately, before the first sun could rise above the horizon. They gathered themselves and prepared to set off quietly and quickly, spurning any formal breakfast, though Lida munched away softly on the flesh of a cactus fruit. The sky shifted from lapis and deep purples with a verdant undertone like a storming sea high above them to a softer, more energetic blue as the suns climbed into their sightline. Faint cirrus clouds desperately seemed to cling to themselves in the distant sky, holding on as the heat slowly dissipated them into nothingness. The arid desertscape had brought a fugue state to Dayanik’s mind, as he hoped upon hope upon silly notions that those wisps of tailfeather-like clouds would somehow bring them their fill of fresh rainwater to whet their mouths, which had become as desiccated as the desert floor itself. Without hope that any moisture would come from the heavens above, Dayanik found himself despondent and loopy with thirst. It was a strange feeling, the notion of having a thirst for water so intense that it felt worse than any pang of hunger he had felt in his life. Water typically came down in violent sheets in the southern sprawl of his home village, and even during the hottest bouts of summer heat riverbeds still provided enough water for pepper plants, tomato vines, and even to irrigate large fields of okra. Oh, how Dayanik longed for a chance to splash in the deepest, coolest depths of those rivers now.

  They set off quietly and without ceremony, despite the hope and promise of potentially reaching the end of their journey to the holy city of Erenamune, the towers and lights of it still so painstakingly beyond the horizon. Would they simply part ways amicably, after all that had transpired? Dayanik’s fugue was broken only moments after departing, however, shaken into focus as Lida shouted his name.

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  He shook his head and looked over, a look of consternation on Lida’s face, but for some reason, her words were muted. Finally, she pulled her horse closer and shook him by the shoulder, clearly recognizing that he was in a stuporous trance. “Day!” she shouted once more, and he nodded this time, hearing his name clearly. He needed her to speak no further, however, as he heard it before seeing anything. It came as a hissing sound, which wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure what he even had expected, but a hiss, not unlike the rattlesnake he vividly remembered Lida rescuing him from in their youth, was not what he was prepared to hear. The hiss, however, didn’t come from any animal or fauna. It seemed to emanate from the sands directly, though they remained still to the naked eye.

  “Sekant!” he looked up at the man, but he had set off already on his horse charging into the distance. Was he running away, perhaps? Taking this chance and leaving them behind with a convenient excuse of abandoning them to certain death at the hands of the desert to rid himself of the burden of their care? No, that notion could be dismissed immediately, considering how he had protected them from the bandits. Indeed, confirming Dayanik’s hopes that he would not simply run off, Sekant broke off of the main path, climbing hastily up one of the shifting sand dunes that shouldered the path. He made no motion or visible reaction, so Lida and Dayanik hurried up after him, awkwardly attempting to navigate the same path. Upon cresting the top of the dune, Dayanik realized what had frozen Sekant into place. Nearly two hundred meters away, one of the sand dunes itself began to slowly shift, collapsing inward, revealing a shallower rocky outcropping than their shelter before, but also, the shifting carapace of an amaranth matron. For a moment that felt as if it dragged into eternity, Dayanik, Sekant, and Lida all simply stared, mouths slightly agape at what they witnessed. The matron was squarely in their path, and without the path’s compressed and packed walkway, they wouldn’t be able to travel without the horses and likely would lose all sense of direction.

  The source of the creature’s name was immediately evident. The pink and red hues of the carapace of the creature seemed akin to the rouge some of the proper noble ladies and lords of Erenamune seemed to favor sporting. It was a deep, rich color that felt so out of place in a blindingly bright landscape with so little color in it; the colors of the creature brought with it a sense of autumnal warmth, a duskier heat than what the relentless blue skies above threw down upon it. Indeed, as the sands feel from its carapace, the matron at first seemed caught off-guard and annoyed at the heat of the bright suns above, ducking its head to seemingly try and burrow back under the sands to keep cool. But it adjusted quickly, shaking free of the remaining tons of sand to kick free its legs and large tail, revealing its full size to a terrifying effect.

  Beside the deep reddish hues of its carapace, what was most striking was the design of its carapace close to its head. The pattern of overlapping carapace pieces seemed to focus toward the head and then flare out, like the petals of a desert flower. It was nearly ornamental in appearance, as if the creature was wearing some type of headwear to cover it from the sun. Down its spine, Dayanik lost count of the overlapping pieces of shell that ran through to the creature’s tail, which now whipped back and forth teasingly. Eight legs, each one twice the length of any man’s height, sat crouched and cradled in an insect-like manner, prepared to stretch and propel the matron forward. Six of the eight legs were smaller than the front two, which also angled more forward and jutted out farther than the rear legs. The front legs also appeared to be barbed; while each leg seemed to come to a razor-sharp point, even the smaller legs at its side, the front legs had accompanying sharp hooks lining it, as if they were especially thorny roses. The creature’s face alone could have frozen someone in terror, regardless of its size. Along with the mandibles that marked the corners of the creature’s “mouth,” along its cheeks were sharp outer mandibles, though it was unclear if these were functional or simply a matter of preferred appearance, as they seemed not to move as the creature chuffed and moved around. The matron’s eyes were a strikingly aquamarine blue, as if gemstones sat within the eye sockets. Dayanik saw no other eyes that would make it feel more akin to other arachnids, though it wasn’t clear at this distance.

  “Such…dazzling…creatures…” Dayanik said without thinking, his words coming to him softly.

  Sekant looked at him, annoyed. “You know, Dayanik, you’re a nice enough fellow, but you’re strange.”

  Dayanik looked down and away, embarrassed. Sometimes, his curious nature got the better of him in these types of situations, and he reacted appropriately, aware that his comments may have been inappropriate at the moment. He tried instead to re-center himself, noting that the hissing appeared to have stopped as the matron’s steps instead brought a muted boom as it scuttled about.

  “I thought you said they were out of the way,” Lida said, though she carried no amusement or even annoyance in her voice.

  Sekant shook his head. “This isn’t what I had scouted last night. This one seems to have just awoken from hibernation.”

  “What kind of insane luck is that? Two amaranth matrons along our path to getting out of this desert?” she asked, her tone back to its typical feisty manner.

  “How in the hells could I have known about this?” Sekant asked rhetorically. “They’re supposed to be some of the rarest creatures in the world.”

  The matron now seemed to be swatting its front legs up wildly and randomly at some invisible marker above it. It screeched, the echoes of the screech caused all three to shiver, as they felt the high-pitched sound scratching upon their bones.

  “Gem lanterns,” Sekant nodded, pointing to the faintest wisps above the matron’s head.

  “Will they keep it preoccupied?” Lida asked.

  Sekant shook his head. “If it’s awake, that’s because it’s time for the creature’s eggs to hatch. It will scour the surrounding land to find food. We have minutes at best.”

  “Can we run around it?”

  “Fantastic idea,” Sekant deadpanned, “you go first. Pick a direction and we’ll follow after shortly.”

  Lida simply scowled at him.

  “Could we attack it first?” Dayanik suggested.

  They both turned to look at him as he stood to the left of Sekant, while Lida stood to the right. They then looked at each other before looking back at him. “To die…faster?” Sekant asked, in all seriousness.

  Dayanik felt silly but carried on, “nothing ever attacks these creatures, so it shouldn’t be expecting to be attacked, right?”

  “That’s because it could kill us with one swipe of its legs, Day,” Lida responded, like a mother explaining something simple to a child.

  “I know that!” Dayanik said, flustered and annoyed. “I-I just mean…well…look if we attack it, maybe we can surprise it. It’s better than waiting for it to come kill us, isn’t it? Sekant, don’t you know how to kill it?”

  “I don’t think anyone in the entire realm knows how to kill one,” he said, shrugging and pulling out his final wineskin. It was barely beyond sunrise, but he clearly cared little for decorum, considering his imminent death, and sucked down the remaining bit of wine in it. “But…well…I suppose most any creature can be killed. If it creates young, that must be because it can age and die. I don’t have a clue how to kill it, but I suppose if you stab anything in the eyes, it will at least hurt.”

  “That’s your strategy, go for the eyes?” Lida mocked.

  “You have a different strategy, brat?”

  The retort seemed to silence her. As the creature shrieked once more, chilling them for a moment from the heat with its haunting sound, the three dropped down the dune and went back to the path, headed for their death.

  The battle ensued with little build-up or discussion. The moment they crested the top of one of the dunes bordering the path north toward Erenamune, coming into view of the matron, the creature saw, or perhaps heard them. The colossus shrieked, this time dropping all three to their knees in pain, clutching desperately to shield their ears from the piercing wailing. Without a moment’s longer of hesitation, the matron charged them, her scorpion-like feet skittering in rapid movements that propelled the creature so fast it almost appeared to teleport toward them. As it came upon them, they could all see the grotesque features of the creature’s face, its mandibles and jeweled eyes equally as shining and menacing in appearance.

  Perhaps it was the mesmerizing trance of the creature’s gaze, but Dayanik and Lida both hesitated for a moment. In their short trot over to this dune, they had discussed a strategy of splitting up. ‘It only has two front claws, perhaps one of us can get around it to get at any part that might be vulnerable’ was Sekant had offered in way of a last-minute strategy. But Dayanik and Lida’s hesitation squashed that strategy immediately. The creature was not like a lobster or some other crustaceans with a larger claw meant for smashing specifically. The creature was too mammoth to need to worry about having specialization in its features; either of its claws could smash rock into rubble and grind bones into dust. When the matron swiped its left claw, it caught Lida square in her legs, her attempt to leap over the massive claw that was larger than her own body failing clumsily. The matron launched Lida awkwardly, sending her flying in a somersault through the air. She landed awkwardly, but thankfully at an angle in which she appeared like she might live, but was knocked unconscious immediately.

  “Lida!” Dayanik shouted, distracted so much by the sight that the barrier of light he had erected to his left to block the swipe of the matron’s right claw broke immediately upon impact of the shell. He too was sent tumbling, however, the barrier had slowed the momentum of the swing enough that he remained conscious. Praise Amune, he thought to himself, his head spinning. He shook himself to right his rattling brain, looking up as dust settled in the air around him. Sekant, thankfully, had not been mesmerized by the trance of the creature, perhaps because the creature had simply attempted to eat the man whole, lunging at Sekant with mandibles spread for a quick kill and meal. Sekant leapt over the piercing mandibles of the matron’s mouth, razor sharp features barely missing him. As he leapt through the air, he deftly twisted himself to an upside-down position, swiping with his long silver blade directly at the center of the matron’s face as he landed. His blade simply clanged off the carapace of the creature, not leaving so much as a scratch upon the impenetrable armor of the beast. Even dust could not cling to the creature, its carmine and vermillion outer shell flawless amongst the chaos and detritus.

  Dayanik’s body moved before his mind could react, but the matron was faster, it brought its claw straight down onto Dayanik, his shield of light, designs with intricately woven strands like a needled blanket, unable to resist the force. The delay this time gave him enough of a moment to dodge however, kicking up dust as he leapt away from the impact, which sent clouds of dust billowing into the air. Dayanik thrust the tip of his walking staff, glowing white-hot, at the creature, hoping to singe the outer shell or cause some pain. If the magic of the staff had any effect, it was impossible to tell, as the creature simply swiped at him lazily this time, annoyed at his persistent dodging or perhaps distracted by Sekant’s hacks and slashes at its face.

  Sekant continued to test the creature’s armor. He swung his blade cautiously in quick successive swipes, the brilliant silver glint causing the blade to shine wildly in the sunshine. As the books in his father’s study had warned him, the matron’s armor was impenetrable. If there were chinks or gaps in the carapace, he could see none perched careful atop the creature’s head. He had gotten used to the gyrating thrashing of the creature’s head, his balance keeping him secured despite the matron swiping its head back and forth in attempts to shake him off. The creature was thoroughly enraged, to the point that Sekant sensed some desperation in its attempts to extricate him from his position, but he needed more time to prod. “Dayanik!” he shouted, narrowing his eyes to monitor the boy’s reaction. Dayanik looked up at him, eyes wide with a swirling mixture of fear and admiration. “Keep at its legs!” he shouted, knowing to keep his orders short and sweet in the fracas so as to not lose any orders. He followed, gesturing with his blade at the creature’s rear legs, in case his words didn’t reach the boy. Dayanik had been capable enough in the fight against the bandits the night before, but this creature was nearly the size of the church that they had visited in Pyk, so Sekant expected nerves and fatigue from the fighting and lack of water to hold tight upon the boy.

  Clearly, his orders got through to the boy, as Dayanik launched short lances of light at the creature’s hind legs. He was far too distracted and fearful to go to the actual legs themselves, the literal shadow of the creature crushing him hanging over his head, keeping him rooted to the same area. Sekant leapt up from his position as the creature stabbed with one of its piercing, massive claws at him, backflipping neatly to land back gracefully in the same spot. For good measure, he stabbed his sword into an overlapping gap in the creature’s carapace, but to no avail: the segments of carapace were so large and overlapped so far that his blade nearly got stuck in between, nowhere near any exposed portion. He drew the sword back, and as he did, a ray of sunslight caught the silver blade at an angle, a flash of a reflection glancing off, casting a quick movement of the reflection that trailed down the…the nose I suppose… of the matron, glinting for just a moment upon its face. That gave Sekant an idea, and he leaped backward further, landing upon one of the petals of the ornamental extra carapace rose and he squatted down, getting a glimpse from his higher perch.

  The move sent the matron into a furor, lashing its tail as well as it kicked up entire dune’s worth of sand with its rear legs and front claws. The creature, blinded by rage at Sekant’s position, reared upon its smaller hind legs, exposing its underbelly, where Dayanik saw feathered, smaller pieces of carapace, skirted by the sides of the outer shell.

  Dayanik was given no chance to attack or assess the abdomen of the matron, however, as it landed back into its normal position, Sekant unfazed as he knelt in place upon the creature’s rose. As soon as the matron landed, it darted for Lida, who remained unconscious, groaning where she had been first launched by the creature’s swiping claws. Dayanik sprinted over to her, a few meters away. He threw up a defensive spell, his barrier cracking as the creature came upon them, gnashing with its razored mandibles. “Sekant!” he shouted, looking up at the man, whose silver hair and blade both appeared as faint strands of clouds in the distant sky; his face remained focused, but he shot a nod at Dayanik, protect her, he seemed to say without speaking. The amaranth matron shrieked again, its bloodcurdling cries piercing Dayanik’s eardrums as it thrashed in the throes of agony. The shrieking cries of the matron might well deafen him, and his brain felt as if it were being boiled by the sound. He could not think, could not move, could do nothing but cower and hope that his protective barrier would protect him and Lida as he crumpled into a dirt-covered heap. But then, amidst the chaos and caterwauling, he heard Lida’s mumbles as she stirred, groaning in pain. I must…try something…anything he thought as he removed his right hand, the tattoo seeming fainter without the sun upon it, scattered dust shading and muting it. As he motioned with his hand, weak bolts of light lanced from the barrier he had erected, striking the matron straight in the face.

  The matron stopped its wailing for a moment, scuttling backwards slightly. This gave Sekant the chance he needed. Amidst the dust, he could see that Dayanik’s barrier withstood the gnashing mandibles; the boy had potential. Sekant leapt higher up on the carapace flower, landing two or three petals higher upon the carapace, trying to find the right angle as he looked up, judging the position of the suns as he shaded his face to not look directly. He angled his sword, carefully making minute adjustments upon his grip. Finally, as the creature seemed ruffled with annoyance at something Dayanik had done to it, Sekant found the right angle. A beam of sunslight ricocheted off the silver blade. It caught the jeweled eye of the matron, greater than the size of a man’s head, head-on. As Sekant expected, the creature had lost his presence on the flower carapace. That was why it hated my perch upon it; the excess carapace is so far removed from its body within the carapace that it cannot sense my position. Because the creature could not sense Sekant’s position and now found itself blinded, it shrieked desperately, louder than even before. Sekant ignored the wails and leapt forward, slicing downward as he placed one foot upon the head of the creature, just above the eye. He managed to slice at the eyelid carapace of the creature, which was closed to protect from the blinding beam that had hit it for a moment. He kicked off, sending himself above the barrier that Dayanik had erected, and he looked up, hoping.

  The matron reacted as Sekant had planned. Feeling his landing upon its head and the slicing at the eyelid carapace, the creature stabbed at its own head, hoping to impale its attacker. Instead, the creature, blinded and in a daze from the battle, managed to stab its own eye, its sharpened heavy claw piercing through the carapace of its eyelid, thinner than its normal carapace. The self-inflicted wound caused the creature to roar, its wails lower now in pitch than before, as if it was gurgling or choking on blood. It kicked up onto its hind legs as it bellowed, exposing the underbelly. Up close now, Dayanik saw: the feathered, smaller carapace provided minimal protection to a soft, pale yellow and turquoise flesh. Sekant saw it too. He leapt forward at the same moment that Dayanik let down his protective barrier. He launched lancing bolts of light with all the energy he had left to muster, fragments of wood splintering and flying from the end of his walking staff. The bolts of light met the weaker abdominal carapace, ricocheting off but causing the feathered shells, a lighter shade of pink and dusted rose, to chip and bend. Sekant saw the opening, driving the full length of his blade into one of the openings that Dayanik had created. The blade looked like a small pin adorning the creature, a splinter in a thumb. But through the billowed dust, Dayanik saw Sekant mutter something under his breath, then drag his sword through the remaining feathered carapace. He cut through the weaker abdominal carapace, turquoise blood trailing behind the sword as Sekant drew his blade down to create a wound three times the length of a man from the top of the underbelly down to the where the rearmost hindleg sat. The amaranth matron cried out a final bloodcurdling scream in the throes of its death, the blood loss of the wound now pouring out enough to fill a small pond. Its cries gurgled and grew faint, falling down upon its side, Sekant deftly dodging the falling structure. They had done it; be it luck, skill, or circumstance, they had killed an amaranth matron.

  “Lida!” Dayanik spoke desperately as he cradled her head against his chest. She began to stir, her eyes fluttering open, weak and distant in their stare. “You’re okay,” he said with a smile, choking back tears.

  “Wh-what…happened?” she asked, dazed.

  “We…we did it.”

  “You’re…safe?”

  Dayanik nodded, smiling, “of course, so-someone had to be there to protect you.” The tears flowed freely down his cheeks now, evaporating rapidly in the heat of the sun, the dust no longer shading them from the worst of its heat.

  At this, she smiled, closing her eyes, burying her head further into his chest. Dayanik held his tattooed hand out, a familiar faint light radiating out warmly with his attempt to heal her scrapes and ease her pain.

  “She’ll be alright, but that leg looks to be broken,” Sekant said, walking over as he dusted himself off. His clothing was soaked through in the turquoise blood of the matron. Unfortunately for them both, it reeked. He waved a hand in front of his face to wipe away the smell, fetid and rancid smelling. He knelt by Dayanik, who did his best not to furrow his nose in disgust. “You did well, Dayanik.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Only a few weeks ago, this boy was trembling in his boots just hearing the stories of Sekant’s barroom battle, but he had seemed to find courage on this journey. He stood up, his eyes returning to examine Lida, who appeared unconscious, her leg badly darkened with bruising already.

  “She needs the high priests to heal the leg. I’ve got some rudimentary healing skills, but she needs someone who can heal fractures,” Dayanik hovered his hand just above her thigh, which was misshapenly swollen and bruised. “The high priests and healers in Erenamune at the Northwestern Tower, they can have her back to walking in a day or two,” he nodded to reassure himself. “In the meantime, I think the pain will keep her out of it until we reach the city.” Dayanik looked up at Sekant, who had sheathed the silver blade back into its plain scabbard upon his back. “Sekant…how…how did you manage to kill it?”

  Sekant shrugged. “I had help, didn’t I?”

  Dayanik said nothing, confused.

  “Dayanik,” he knelt down again. “You helped kill the matron just as much as I did.”

  “But, I just…I’m not a fighter.”

  “If you weren’t a fighter, if you weren’t prepared to lay your life on the line for those you hold dear, your friend would be dead right now. Lida and you are both brave. I thought you both foolhardy and childish for joining me. But you’ve proven me wrong. I don’t think I would have survived this journey alone. Thank you.” With those thanks given, Sekant turned and walked back in the direction of their horses along the path.

  Dayanik smiled to himself, looking at Lida, who remained in a stable if dangerous condition. He looked up from his friend and stared north toward Erenamune. As if by some miracle, he thought he could make out the highest point of Mount Frenen, towering amongst The Scales, ushering them toward the Holy City. Closer, he saw clouds; dark, swirling masses that curled above him and battered each other with winds high above the sands of the desert. He saw rain begin to fall.