“Yeah, well, where are we going?”

“You don’t know?”

“I thought you did.”

Gabil used his claws on both of the horses’ rumps this time, swiping both feet together like a double karate kick. “Hayaa!”

The horses bolted forward at a full gallop, with Billos and Darsal flailing and yelling. How they managed to stay on, Gabil didn’t know, but he figured it served them right for not believing Johnis sooner.

He took off after the spooked horses and kept them moving with an occasional swat to the rump. “Move it, you dumb beasts! Fly, fly like the wind. Hayaa!”

Billos and Darsal shouted all kinds of orders at their mounts, but all were ignored. Gabil, master of the sky and now the desert, was in control.

“Hayaa!”

He kept the horses running for a full fifteen minutes before thinking that perhaps he was overdoing it. They were sweating and wheezing. What if they fell over dead from this terrified sprint of theirs? Michal had said “as quickly as possible,” but Gabil wasn’t completely sure how far he could push these snorting beasts.

Then an image of Johnis flashed through his mind, and he slapped the horses again. Johnis might not be able to be saved, but there was a slim chance that one or both of the books could be recovered.

They pounded over a hill, and the oasis suddenly dawned into view, a hundred yards ahead. Two fresh horses grazed by the water, ready to ride.

“Don’t let them run for the water!” Billos cried. “They might drown us! Stay clear of the water!”

They were that far gone? Horde feared water. Despised it. Billos was deceived to the core.

“No, the water could be good!” Darsal said. “I think we need it.”

“No! Stay clear. Only fools think water won’t drown them.”

“No, Billos, I need water!” She veered for the pond and, without Gabil prodding her horse from behind, managed to wrestle control back.

Billos’s horse followed despite his curses. “This way, you stupid beast!” He tugged on the reins to no avail.

The horses headed straight to the water, reared to a stop, thrust their muzzles into the clear blue liquid, and began to drink. Darsal stared at the water in wonder, somewhat unsure but perhaps remembering.

Billos, on the other hand, drew his legs up and scooted to the rear of his horse, cowering. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s blue,” she said.

“It’s brown! Any fool can see that.”

“Blue,” she said, staring.

“Brown, brown, brown, you imbecile! And what’s more, it will kill you!”

Gabil flew toward the recruit, rolled into a ball at the last moment to avoid hurting him, and slammed into his back with enough force to launch the terrified Billos off his horse and into the pond with a great splash.

His cries were swallowed by the water. Darsal dropped to the sand and peered in. “Billos?”