Shattered Destiny (36 page)

The Nomad stared at each of them as if taking a measure of who they were. They squirmed under the scrutiny. “I will take you. You will need to purchase proper clothing in the village before we leave. You won't last long in what you are wearing now.”

“We will do as you say.” Saemus stated.

“Meet me at the blacksmith's at first light. Bring your beasts, for we will be leaving as soon as I get you properly outfitted.” The Nomad left for town, wrapping his head as he walked.

Jon, Saemus, and Forka returned to where the others were camped and told them they had found a Nomad to guide them into the Blasted Lands. The news renewed their excitement. They attempted to devise some sort of battle strategy, but without knowing the terrain, it was too difficult to formulate a definite plan.

“We will have to plan once we see where we will be fighting.” Robert wasn't happy about it, but they didn't have a choice. It made him feel better when he had a strategy.

“Let's get some sleep.” Forka lay on the ground, asleep before his head hit his makeshift pillow.

*   *   *

The Nomad waited for them outside the blacksmith's barn. The blacksmith was there also, squinting in the bright sunlight. There was a pile of light-colored clothing on the ground.

“You need to change, and be quick about it. We need to get to the mountains before dark,” the Nomad ordered.

The blacksmith reluctantly let them use his barn as a changing room. The group changed as quickly as they could, exchanging pieces with one another if they found they didn't fit. The shirts and billowy trousers were either white or pale yellow and covered from neck to ankles. The Nomad showed them how to tie up their hair under the head wrap.

“My people shave their heads. We have noticed most travelers are especially attached to their hair, so I will not ask you to shave your heads.”

“Why would we need to shave our heads?” Kaelin looked horrified as she held her hair in both hands.

“Despite there being little life in the Blasted Lands, one thing we have in abundance is fleas. They nest in hair. If there is no hair, there is nowhere for them to nest.”

Keera didn't know what was worse - tthe thought of cutting off her curly hair or finding it full of blood-sucking insects.

The Nomad noticed her expression and chuckled. “If you follow my instructions to the letter, there is little chance you will become infested.”

He also showed them how to wrap the long tail end of the head wrap around their faces. “This will protect your face from the brunt of the sun and help to conserve moisture.

“Now. We are entering a dangerous land. If the mountains don't kill you, the desert surely will, if you don't follow my instructions. When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed, and quickly. If you can't agree to that, I refuse to guide you.”

The group agreed to the terms, becoming more nervous about this journey. The Astrans had heard stories about the Blasted Lands their whole lives. They had assumed they were tall tales meant to frighten children. Now, they were not so certain.

The Nomad checked the camels, peering into their eyes, checking their lashes, their teeth, their hoofs, running his hands expertly over their bodies, thumping on their humps, and checking the food and water stores. He nodded in grudging respect. “The animals are healthy and will perform admirably. You have done well, for outsiders.”

“What is so hard about picking out a camel?” Keera snorted.

The man stared at her until she flushed and turned away. “Your camel is your life. A person can't carry enough water to survive even the mountains. Camels are built for the heat. Their flat feet enable them to travel over the sand while using the least amount of energy. You will need to wear these once we reach the desert.” He pointed to a bunch of flat, woven oval shaped shoes hanging from the side of the largest beast. “They make traveling over the sand easier.” He nodded toward the camels once more. “Their humps store a great deal of water. A camel can live for over a week on the water in these humps. If your camel is sick, or injured, you will not survive long. Guides refuse to take people across the mountains if their camels are not in peak condition.”

Keera stood speechless. She'd had no idea they were that important. She stared at the animals, quietly chewing their cud, with
newfound respect.

The Nomad took the lead while the others followed. He instructed them to keep the camels in the middle of the group. “While most of my people won't bother us, there are always rogue bands that wish to keep strangers out of our lands. They will go for the camels, either stealing them or killing them, thus forcing us to return to the greenlands.”

“Greenlands?” Saemus asked.

“That is what we call the area over the mountains. Compared to our country, yours is very green to us.”

The group was silent, wishing now more than ever the Mekans had landed somewhere else. It didn't sound safe traveling through the desert and many wondered if they would survive to meet the Kromins.

“It is highly unlikely a group this large will be attacked. Keeping the animals in the middle is merely a precaution.”

While they appreciated the attempt to make them feel better, Saemus and Jon were just as glad they had purchased the swords back in Neera.

“What is your name, friend?” Saemus asked. He realized they should have asked the man sooner, but they had been busy changing, and then he had them walking down the dirt path toward the mountains.

“I am called Shel Nal’ Vi.”

The group introduced themselves. The man didn't say anything, merely nodded and kept walking. He soon set a pace that made it impossible to talk.

“Can we slow down? I can't breathe!” Keera groaned. She looked at Gwen and felt a pang of guilt. As difficult as it was for her to move quickly, it was doubly difficult for the dwarf girl. And yet she never voiced complaint.

“I told you we must reach the mountains before dark.”

“Why does it matter?”

The man stopped to face the girl. “I am the guide. I told you to do what I tell you. If you do not wish to do so, you may go back to town and try to find someone else who is willing to take you across the mountains.” He stood for a moment before walking toward the
mountains again, which grew larger with every step they took.

Keera stuck out her tongue at the man's back but picked up her pace, gasping for breath.

Shel Nal’ Vi led the group south along the edges of the foothills. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, though there was no trail or landmarks of any kind. He led them to a stand of trees that had sprouted next to a fresh spring. It bubbled out of the rocks near the base of the mountains.

There was a large pile of wood near a ring of stones. As he started building a fire, he ordered them to scour the region for more wood. At their frowns of confusion, he spoke quietly.

“This is a well-known camp that my people use. It is customary to leave it as it was found. That means gathering more wood to leave for the next group that comes along.”

“Can't we go for wood tomorrow before we leave? It's getting dark.” Keera glanced nervously over her shoulder to the prairie.

“Prairie cats are more active at dawn, but by all means, if you would rather wait till then… If we had been able to get here earlier, you would have been able to search by the light of day.” He rubbed two sticks of wood rapidly together, tendrils of smoke drifting from the woodpile.

“Can't we just use our power to make light? Then we wouldn't have to use the wood at all.” Kaelin suggested. She, too, was nervous about wandering in the dark.

“It's more than just the light. They fear the smell of fire. Out here, in these great open spaces, fire means death,” Shel Nal’ Vi said.

“You girls stay here and get supper ready. We men will go gather the wood,” Sloan said, giving Keera a wink. She stuck her tongue out at him but was grateful to be able to stay near the roaring fire the Nomad had started.

Shel Nal’ Vi set four to each watch. He told them to spread out and remain vigilant. “Our fire should keep the prairie cats at bay. Keep special watch over the beasts. They will often know a cat is around before you do. If you see anything, make sure to sound the alarm.” The Nomad took to his blankets and promptly fell asleep.

*   *   *

The night passed without incident, though Sloan, Keera, and Voilor did see a prairie cat walk by at the furthest edge of the light from the fire. It stood as tall as an antlered horse, with paws that could take their heads off with one swipe. It had golden-green eyes that sparkled in the fire light. It bared razor-sharp teeth before moving on. The fire reflected off its long, curly, tawny fur. The three had held their breath until the big cat had ghosted away through the tall prairie grass. Even Voilor, who normally wanted to pit his strength against anything, thought that perhaps the huge predator was not something he wanted to mess with.

After a quick breakfast, the Astrans used their power to extinguish the fire. Shel Nal’ Vi grunted in amusement. “I never thought those that had the power used it for such mundane things.”

“What exactly do you think we use it for?” Keera's temper flared.

“More grandiose things, like healing and foretelling the future.”

“We use the power for those things. But why dig up dirt to dump on the fire if you can simply use the power? It's faster, and you seem to be in a big hurry. But next time, we can do it your way.” Keera smirked when she saw her words have an effect on the Nomad. She was tired of his superior attitude.

Gwen groaned. The last thing they needed was to anger their guide. She was convinced that Keera's temper would get them into serious trouble someday.

“Let's go.” Shel Nal’ Vi led the group up the mountain using a dirt path that looked like a game trail. He explained it was the only way through the mountains that wouldn't get you killed. “If you come out of the Hills by any other route, you will be dead by the time you reach the bottom.”

“I don't understand. Why would the route matter? And what would cause our death?” Saemus asked. He was curious about these people.

“If you come by any route but this, it is a clear indication you are traveling without a guide. All guides use this route. We have
watchers that will shoot any intruder with arrows tipped in poison.
That
will be the cause of your death.”

Saemus gulped, sorry he had asked. But the scholar in him wanted to know more. “Why are you so protective?”

“We do not like strangers.”

“There has to be more to it than that.”

“Do you always ask this many questions?” The Nomad asked.

Saemus didn't answer; instead he merely followed the man up the mountain.

“The practice started during the time of the Great War. Our people had been able to refrain from getting involved in the fighting of the continents. Until the leader of the Eastern continent tried to come across the mountain to “recruit” us.” The Nomad's voice hardened. “We did not take too kindly to being recruited against our will. So we fought them. The Patriarch at the time decided to invade our land. We talked him out of it.”

Saemus snorted. “I doubt there was much talking involved.”

“It wasn't long before our efforts to keep the Patriarch from taking our young men changed into simply keeping all strangers from our land. It is better for us.”

Saemus couldn't blame the Nomads for mistrusting strangers, and yet he wondered why it had gone on for so long. “But we aren't at war anymore. Perhaps you could relax the rules just a little. You are strangers to the rest of the world. Many would like to learn about you.”

“It is our way. We like being left alone.”

The path climbed higher and steeper, and soon all of them were huffing and puffing as they made their way to the top. When they reached the summit, Shel Nal’ Vi motioned them all to come forward. There were no trees at this altitude so there was nothing to block their view.

What they saw filled them with horror.

It wasn't the sheer cliff of red rocks they would have to traverse to descend off the summit. It wasn't the vast expanse of white sands stretching as far as the eye could see. It wasn't the lack of trees or shrubs or life.

It was the sight of the Mekans drilling and tearing up the
landscape of the Blasted Lands.

ASTRA

“THEY'RE REALLY HERE.”
Gwen felt like crying and screaming at the same time.

Their view of the Mekans demonstrated their sheer size. The largest machine spread nearly as far as they could see vertically. Its legs descended from its bulk, sitting atop crumbled mountains. Steam rose from one side. Smaller machines entered and left the large machine.

“What are they doing?” Gwen asked.

“They're digging,” Feeror said.

A giant drill descended from one machine's metal belly and tore up the earth at an incredible rate. Smaller Mekans sifted through the piles, tossing some material to the side and putting some in a hatch that opened at their tops. When they were was full, they rolled to the largest machine and disappeared inside, only to return moments later ready to collect again.

The Mekans looked like giant metal insects crawling across the desert floor. The moving tracks sent up clouds of dust that partially obscured the machines. It was only when they stopped that they were fully visible. Their metal skins were a strange silvery-blue color that sparkled in the sunlight. The details of their construction were
lost in the glare of the sun.