Sorcha fit right in there in Bardondour. He captivated attention and held it. He was warm enough, red enough, that the suspicions the compounders held towards the rest of us seemed not to apply to him. He was simply exotic. The shepherd girl offered to marry him that night, only half in jest. Sorcha managed to turn her offer into an opportunity to score us enough Bardondour herb to last the rest of the journey. As the pair of us grew steadily more stoned, we drifted together until I was nestled in the crook of his arm. It was an odd comfort, seeing him in his element like that. It was an odd pleasure to just watch him live his life so fully at that moment, and I felt lucky to be floating around his periphery. With us locked together like that, the ardent attentions of the young and curious compounders began to wane until the night grew very late, and one by one all the compounders climbed to their bowers to turn in. Our bower had been taken. We slept that night wedged amongst piles of red elvish children who seemed utterly unfazed at the strangers sleeping next to them.

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Between the mountains and the Mother Desert lie the Inalan badlands. We picked our way down the mountain pass, and the air changed. It is hard to explain, but the air seemed stale. Lifeless. The view when the mountains opened up to the badlands, with the Mother Desert beyond, was breathtaking. The entire world stretched out before us. It looked pristine, untouched. We had gone far enough that Bardondour was hidden again in its valley, and I could not shake the feeling that the four of us were completely alone in the wide world, that it was just us and immense space. It was a terrible, intoxicating feeling. We camped on a ledge of stone overlooking the badlands. Sorcha and I slept together in a tent—that we struggled to set up night after night—borrowed from one of Shayat’s crew who had opted to stay behind in Alamadour. Tamir usually watched us from the edge of camp, snickering to himself.

Shayat put rations on the fire to cook. I sat beside her, and Sorcha sat on my other side. “You two should wear robes from here on out. What you’ve got is not desert wear.”

“The City’s in the desert,” Sorcha said.

“The City is a desert city. This is desert travel. I have a spare set of robes, and we can cut down a set of Tamir’s to fit you.”

“We can?” Tamir said.

“My father will make you a new set on the house when we get to Rabatha.”

I laughed. Shayat looked over at me, already annoyed. “What?”

“You still do that?”

“Do what?”

“Bargain your father’s services without asking him?”