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Airos looks at me and I nod, and then we sprint for the edge of the dune. He shifts, I leap on his back, and we're in the air. Azin and Onar keep the dance going below, maintaining their hold on the Shimat as we fly toward the massive beast.

The shadow of its underbelly swallows us, and I clamp down on its heart—that poisoned core buried deep in its sandy prison. We weave between the streams of sand cascading from the Shimat's body like waterfalls, and come around for the attack. I call the water elemental, and it leaves my body and forms into a long, slender spear in the palm of my hand.

Now!

Airos and I rip the sand away, revealing a throbbing black tumor wrapped around the Shimat's glowing heart like a parasite. The Shimat convulses violently in a last defense, and manages to wrestle some control back from Azin and Onar's spell. Tendrils burst from its body and whip towards us with lethal speed, but Airos banks hard left, his wings screaming through the air as we dodge a strike that would've cut us in half.

"Jackson!" Airos shouts over the howling wind. "One shot!"

The elemental spear in my hand blazes with purifying light, but the window is closing fast. The Shimat's defenses are reforming, layers of corrupted water swirling around its core like armor. We streak in like a lightning bolt, weaving between the chaos. Tendrils come for Airos's wings, but he's too fast for them now, and a blast of phoenix fire from his feathers turns them into shriveled husks.

I draw back my arm, feeling the water elemental's power surge through the spear.

"Got you, motherfucker," I say.

Throw.

The spear cuts through the air, punches through the Shimat's defenses, and lances the poison bulb dead center. For a heartbeat, everything goes silent.

Then the corruption screams as the tumor explodes in a geyser of black pollution. The elemental's cleansing power spreads like wildfire through the Shimat's massive form, and I watch in awe as the darkness drains away like ink being washed from glass. What's left behind is crystal-clear water that catches the desert sun and fractures it into a thousand dancing rainbows. The purified Shimat hangs in the air like a giant prism, casting brilliant arcs of color across the sand dunes below.

Then the Shimat's massive form shudders once, twice—and pops like the world's largest water balloon. Its purified waters come cascading down in a torrential downpour that soaks us and the desert below, each droplet sparkling with captured sunlight as it falls. The rainbow light follows us down, painting everything in shifting bands of color—the sand, our faces, Airos's feathers as he pulls out of our dive.

For a moment, the entire desert looks like it's been touched by magic, shimmering under a canopy of light and falling water.

20

AIROS

The tribe breaks camp with startling efficiency. Within hours, the entire encampment is packed and moving north across the transformed desert. Jackson and I ride alongside Azin and Onar at the front of the procession, with Niah leading us through terrain that's barely recognizable from the wasteland we'd crossed just days before.

Ankle-high water pools everywhere, covering the sand where the corrupted Shimat had spread its poison. Already I can see signs of life stirring beneath the surface. Tiny green shoots push through the wet sand, and birds wade around, plucking up insects emerging from their subterranean hiding places.

We follow the flow of newly formed streams as they carve fresh channels through the landscape. When we reach the edge of what had been nothing but cracked earth and scattered bones just yesterday, a collective gasp rises from the tribe behind us. The oasis stretches before us like something out of a dream—crystal-clear pools connected by babbling streams, surrounded by patches of green grass that seem to grow more vibrant witheach passing hour. Palm trees that had stood as dry skeletons now rustle with fresh fronds, and the air itself feels different. Alive. I can feel the elemental's power thrumming through every part of this land, and though Jackson and I can no longer control it, I know the connection will always remain within us.

Someone behind us starts to weep tears of joy. Then another voice joins in, and another, until the entire tribe is laughing and crying. Niah dismounts her gryph and kneels at the water's edge, cupping the clear liquid in her weathered hands. When she drinks, her eyes close in what looks like pure bliss.

"The Shalkek have fulfilled their destiny," she says, looking at us with a small smile.

It's not long before other tribes begin to arrive, and soon a grand encampment has taken root around the borders of the oasis. People swim, play, and refill their water stores. Old intertribal friendships are rekindled, and new ones made. Flocks of gryphs mingle and pair off. The desert's cycle of life has started again.

It's a temporary respite from the influence of Umbrios. But it gives me hope for our task—that it isn't too late to reverse the phase of darkness back to the light.

Jackson and I, along with Azin and Onar, find ourselves swept up in a constant whirlwind of celebration. Every time we try to catch our breath or steal a moment to process what we've been through, another group of tribespeople approaches with offerings, blessings, or simply wanting to touch the hands of the Shalkek. Eventually, we just accept that there is no escapefrom the grateful crowds. Niah and Onar act as our translators, and we greet every person who comes to meet us. Like myself, I can tell that Jackson isn't accustomed to being the center of attention. He's trying his hardest, but the poor man issweating.

Cooking pits seem to materialize out of nowhere around the oasis. Two tribes present their finest goats for the feast. An elderly omega tugs at Jackson's sleeve, gesturing towards a group of young omegas.

"Come," Onar says, taking Jackson's arm. "They wish to meet your child."

Jackson catches my eye over the crowd between us and gives me a small shrug before allowing himself to be swept away toward the gathering. The last I see of him is his dark hair disappearing into a sea of colorful robes as excited voices rise around him.

Azin slings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me along to meet a group of tattooed alphas. He immediately launches into what can only be our rescue story, complete with reenactments. One moment he's flapping his arms like me in phoenix form, the next he's miming Jackson's spear throw with such enthusiasm that the other alphas have to duck. Each pivotal moment is punctuated with a hearty slap to my chest that nearly knocks the wind out of me. The men all have questions for me, but the most I can do is smile and shrug.

Then, someone thrusts a clay bowl into my hand, and a big jug is passed from hand to hand until it reaches me.

"Excellent," I say, holding out my bowl with a grin. "No words needed to understand a drink of milk wine, eh?"

Azin says something agreeable, and the alphas fill my bowl. To my disappointment, it's just plain water. Everyone looks so eager to see me drink it.