Clearly he was lying. There was no water anywhere I could see.

Confusion must’ve played across my face because Cion mumbled, “Of course you wouldn’t understand.” He lowered his face to meet mine. “We steal the water for people like them. So they can cross the desert and escape this place. Whatever extra we have, we distribute to those who need it most in Achra.”

“If you didn’t steal all the water,” I retorted, “we could ease the restrictions.”

Cion exhaled loudly. “There’s already plenty of water for everyone. The four wells are all fed by the same underground river that runs directly under the palace, where the water levels are controlled by none other than your father.”

“That’s preposterous.” There were no water controls in the palace. I would have seen them. And even my father would never be so cruel as to keep water from his own people. “The only controller of the water levels is the desert itself.” I bit my tongue before I threw out that many people—my father included—blamed the continuing drought on the Desert Boys and the desert’s attempts to rid them from its dunes.

“Think about it,” Cion challenged. “The only reason everyone doesn’t flee this forsaken sand pit and its increasing sandstorms is because they can never store enough water for the crossing. Your father knows that. He knows no one would stay, so he controls everyone by controlling the wells.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” My father had always talked about how great Achra had been before the drought. He and I both wanted to make it that way again. If there really was enough water, he would’ve released it to the people so Achra could rise once again, so we could lead it back into prosperity.

“Wouldn’t he?” He pushed off the stalagmite and moved toward me.

I skittered backward, keeping the same distance between us. I tried not to notice how silently he moved.

“The same man who puts tigers behind both doors at his ‘just’ trials wouldn’t go so far as to control the water levels to keep everyone dependent on him?”

I shook my head.

“He wouldn’t lower them further after one of our raids to make it look like we’d taken more than we did so he could set even stricter ration laws, all in an attempt to turn the people against us?” His soft voice mixed with the falling sand.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shot back. I’d lived in the palace my whole life and never seen anything that would control the wells.

“Back when the drought started—before you and I were even born—the original Desert Boys were locals and caravan leaders who didn’t have access to water. As a result, they knew the desert and its dangers better than anyone, and they used that knowledge to go out searching for water. All they ever found was the nearly dried-up underground river that leads directly toward the city.”

Obviously, something had to feed the wells. It didn’t all come from the small oasis within the palace walls. But his words didn’t prove anything—especially as he was saying the river was as dry as the wells.