I’d once again had it thrown in my face that I hadn’t been taking care of my mother’s people. I’d been ignoring them, looking past their dirty faces and thinning frames to blame the Desert Boys instead of doing anything to truly help them. I’d seen their thin bodies and chapped lips, but they had been as normal as the sand stretching around us. But Yeri dying wasn’t normal. It took his small form rasping for breath to remind me what I should’ve been fighting for all along.

I had failed my mother so profoundly that it felt like the sandstorm raging outside had found its way under my skin and was tearing me apart.

Cion turned away from me toward the boys. “Everyone, grab a bucket. As soon as the storm diminishes, we’ll need to steal as much as we can.”

The boys accepted Cion’s words and flew into a flurry of movement once more.

I stood alone with my thoughts. Was it better to raid the wells? Is that what would help my people most? If the townspeople supported them, there had to be something to it.

It was high time I found out for sure and actually started taking care of my people.

“Where are the buckets?” I asked.

Cion turned back toward me. “You’re not coming.”

“You can’t face twenty guards and carry away water with only a few boys.”

“We know what we’re doing, and there are more of us than you think,” Cion said while shoving a knife into his belt, next to his sword.

“You made me a Desert Boy,” I countered. “I’m one of you. You know I can fight.”

“But can you fight your own kind?” Cion said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll be fighting your own guards. Can you can draw your blade against them, to kill them if necessary? Can you put the life of a Desert Boy above the life of one of your guards?”

I opened my mouth to speak but hesitated. Could I draw my blade against Sievers? I’d fought the other guards at the well, but I hadn’t given them grievous injuries. They were just following commands, as misguided as those commands were.

When I didn’t respond, Cion answered for me. “I didn’t think so.”

“The guards are simply following orders.” I realized now how many must follow those orders for the extra water rations. They were choosing to follow Rodric because it’s what it took to keep their families alive.

“Rodric’s orders. It’s either the guards or the families dying of thirst,” he said. “You can’t save both.”

But maybe I could. I had to.

“Let me be a distraction,” I said suddenly. “My presence will throw off the guards. I’m sure at least a few of them would follow me once I revealed who I am. I could lead them away from the well while you go in and steal the water.”

Cion paused. He was studying me, weighing it all in his mind.