I stared down at my distorted reflection. Orange and black shadows played across my face. The light was too faint to make out the scars on my neck. But it was the first time I’d seen myself since leaving the palace. My hair was matted to my head in a mix of sweat and sand. My chapped lips faded into cheeks hollower then I remembered. But the grime covering my skin somehow made my eyes stand out. They shone brightly, reflecting the torchlight, showing that I wasn’t broken. I hadn’t given up.

I looked up at Cion and tossed the cuff back to him. “Sell it. Use the money to buy food or something.”

Cion caught the cuff. “Spoken like a true Desert Boy.”

“Well, I am one.” There was no going back now. “I certainly look like one, anyway,” I joked and gestured to my tattered clothes.

He laughed and motioned for me to follow him back into the tunnels. “Let’s get you to bed, or you won’t have any energy for training tomorrow.”

I groaned. “Only if you teach me how to survive on so little water. I’m starting to think half the boys are part camel.”

Cion shrugged as he led me down the tunnels. “I know it’s tough, but rationing water is the only way we stay alive and the only way we can help people escape this place.”

Something sparked in my mind. “Was that the rationing system Rodric was referring to?” I asked.

Cion stiffened. Slowly, he nodded.

Somewhere up ahead, I heard some of the boys who weren’t yet asleep shouting over each other, eager to brag about the soldiers they’d fought at the well that day or to explain the mistakes that had given them the injuries they bore.

“How did Rodric know about that?” It hadn’t struck me at the time, but Rodric knew a lot more about the Desert Boys than he let on.

Cion paused. He turned and stared down the tunnel behind us, to where the voices of the other Desert Boys drifted out of one of the alcoves.

“I guess sleep can wait a little longer,” he said and turned back, taking me down a side tunnel. “Follow me.”

I glanced to where light filtered out of the common room, not understanding what he’d seen that I hadn’t. And not able to figure it out, I followed after him.

He led me down a dark tunnel. Sand squishing ahead of me was the only indication that Cion was still there. After a few moments, he stopped. There was a rustle, and light flooded the narrow tunnel. He’d pulled back a thick flap to reveal a small square alcove.

He motioned me inside. It was surprisingly warm compared to the hallway. Smoke had collected in a haze at the top of the room from the single torch anchored to the back wall.

A woven rug lay across the floor. Two blankets were stacked in the corner. Their red-and-black stripes were typical of the blankets made by the women in the city. A pillow lay in one corner of the room.