“Am I being employed as guide now? I don’t believe we’ve negotiated for that additional service.”

Nyx sighed. “Never mind. You just seem to know your way around.”

“Indeed. Only not as keenly as perhaps you would hope.”

“Nyx?” said Khatijah.

Nyx turned. The wind wasn’t as strong today, but still persistent. The sand stung her eyes. She squinted.

“What?” she said.

“There’s movement back this way.”

“Eshe, see what she’s talking about,” Nyx said. He was closer than Kage, and to be honest, Nyx was too exhausted to haul herself all the way to the back of the line again.

Eshe sighed. “You’re welcome,” he said. He pulled out his specs and walked over to join Khatijah.

Khatijah pointed.

Eshe lit up like a burning bush.

Nyx didn’t even hear a shot or an explosion. One moment she was looking back the way they’d come, following Khatijah’s arm, and the next—a pillar of fire shot out of the ground where Eshe stood.

Nyx threw herself behind the nearest twisted white structure. She could feel the heat through her cover. She squeezed her eyes shut. Eshe’s keening cry was cut short.

Then someone else was screaming.

Isabet.

“Get to cover!” Nyx yelled.

Nyx let out a breath and looked for Ahmed. He might be able to call a swarm out here to shield them from view. From her position, she saw no one. They had scattered when the flame appeared.

Not one had knuckled forward to help Eshe. Not even her.

Her own fault. She had not hired heroes.

Nyx dove to the next mound. Ducked around a corner, searching for her fucking magician. Sand stuck to her where the mucus had adhered to her body.

“Ahmed!” she yelled.

She heard three shots.

Somebody squealed. Hers or theirs, she wasn’t certain.

“Ahmed!”

She ran for the next cover.

Halfway there, the sand around her erupted. She threw her arms up and leapt back, expecting shrapnel. Her whole body went taut as adrenaline rushed through her. Every instinct told her it was a mine.

But she was still whole, and there was a dusty woman swinging a sword at her from the newly blown crater.

Nyx backpedaled to her former cover, yanking at her own blade as she retreated. She was nearly out of bullets, and at close range, she was more comfortable with a blade.

Someone shouted behind her. The woman ahead of her stopped swinging. Nyx stabbed at her. The woman danced back.

“You are mine! I challenge you!”

Nyx turned. The oddly accented Nasheenian was familiar, though she could not place it.

Another woman strode toward her through the formations. Like the other, she was tall and red-brown, with a mane of dark hair. Nyx remembered her. The woman from the tea shop. The one insulted by Kage’s casual fuck.

Well, shit.

Nyx raised her blade.