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my walls, offering my heart to an assassin who had once tried to kill me. But that was before everything. Before the soulstone.

Before Vahn’s betrayal, the rise of the Deathless King, and the fall of Kovass. Before I knew that the kahjai was one of those

unique, beautiful souls who would cause me to question everything. I was Fateless. And for the first time, I was all right

with that.

No more , I thought. I can’t be afraid anymore.

Kysa shook her head at us as we pulled back, though her lips were curled in a wry smile. “If you are finished,” she said,

causing me to blush and the faintest of pink tinges to spread across Raithe’s neck, “we do need to get moving. As it is, I

doubt we are going to reach Carapace Basin before nightfall.”

We pushed our mounts hard the rest of the afternoon, well aware of the passage of time and Namaia sliding farther across the sky.

The heat was relentless, but we didn’t stop, continuing across the steppes with one goal in mind: to reach Carapace Basin before Demon Hour the next day.

I had already announced that I wasn’t going to sleep until we reached the Scarab Clan.

I wasn’t going to give Vahn the opportunity to take control of me again, even if I had to stay awake all night and into the next day.

If I wasn’t asleep, he couldn’t find me and force me to hurt my friends.

I could tell my decision worried Raithe, but Kysa agreed that it probably was the best course of action, at least until I was protected from magical attacks.

So until we were among the Scarab Clan, I would have to stay awake.

My thoughts and emotions were a tangled mess, flitting like agitated birds around my head. Guilt at what Vahn had almost made

me do. Fear of what his next move could be. Apprehension about what the Scarab Clan would require, if they would even agree

to help. And looming above it all, the knowledge that the Deathless King was out there, poised to make his move. We were just

insects to him, and even across the Barren Steppes and the Dust Sea, his presence was still frightening.

But all those thoughts faded into the background whenever Raithe was close. My skin still tingled from the kiss, the memory

seared into my mind forever. If I was honest with myself, I was still scared. The part of me that belonged to the guild, that

had grown up with thieves and scoundrels in Kovass, that found it difficult to open up and put my trust in anyone, that part

was still terrified.

But the other side wanted to trust him, to believe that he wasn’t going to betray me, abandon me, or stab me in the back.

To accept that I was safe—truly safe—with him.

And if I was the Fateless, whatever that meant, so be it. I didn’t know what I could do, if a single thief from Kovass could

do anything, but I wasn’t going to run from it any longer.

Evening fell, and the temperature dropped as the suns dipped below the horizon.

The dragons began to get antsy; we had ridden them hard all day, and they wanted to stop and rest. But we kept going, pushing on through the evening, as true night fell and the stars came out.

Over the flat, empty steppes, they blazed brilliantly against the darkness of the sky, lighting up the plains and stretching on forever.

I had never felt so small in my entire life.

Abruptly, my dragon came to a halt, raising its head and flaring its nostrils against the wind. With a snort, it began tossing

its head and clawing the ground, making me grab for the reins to steady it. Halek’s mount also began snorting and shaking

its head, clearly agitated. I looked to Raithe, who had swung himself off his dragon and grabbed its bridle, speaking to it

calmly. It growled and swished its tail, flaring its nostrils, but it didn’t seem quite as nervous as the other two.

I yanked hard on the reins, and my dragon stopped digging gouges in the earth, though it continued to snort and toss its head.

Beside me, Halek was having less luck getting his mount to calm down.

“Hey, dragon, do you mind?” Halek finally hopped out of the saddle, holding the reins as the lizard hissed and scratched at

the earth. “Did you get a cactus pod under your saddle or what?”

“They sense something,” Raithe answered, gazing warily around. Kysa and Rhyne had gone to scout from the air, so it was only

us and the dragons. “Stay alert—something isn’t right.”

A droning of wings announced the arrival of the insect rider. Rhyne descended quickly from the air, and Kysa leaped off his

back as soon as he landed.

“There’s a storm coming,” she announced, making my blood chill. “From the west, and it’s traveling fast. We’re not going to make it to Carapace Basin before it catches us.”

I looked west, into the rising wind, and saw a dark smudge against the horizon. Halek let out a slow breath. “I guess we should

find a place to hole up until the storm passes,” he said. “Otherwise, we’re going to be breathing sand.”

Raithe looked at me, then at Kysa. “How far is it to the Scarab Clan camp?” he asked.

Her lips thinned. “If we hurry, we can reach it before dawn. But are you suggesting we go through the storm? Rhyne and I will

be fine, but your lizards aren’t going to like it.”

“Neither am I, to be fair.” Raithe glanced westward as well, his jaw tightening. “But we need to get Sparrow to your people

as soon as possible. Waiting out the storm means she’ll have to go even longer without sleeping, or risk falling to the ma’jhet’s

magic again.”

“I’ll be all right, Raithe,” I told him. He looked at me, worried, and I shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to go

on no sleep for a few days. I’ll be fine if we need to stop.”

Though I was tired. The constant travel, the brutal temperatures of the steppes, the worry about Vahn and the Deathless King, even riding

for hours on a sand dragon—it was all wearing on me. In fact, this entire journey, from Kovass to the strider to now, felt

like one long, extended race for our lives. Weariness gnawed at me, the kind of exhaustion that was less physical and more

like your very soul was tired.

And Raithe, watching me with perceptive eyes, knew it.

Kysa gazed between me and Raithe, her expression solemn.

Finally, she gave a decisive nod. “We push through,” she said, and Halek groaned.

She ignored him. “Tie a cloth around the lizards’ eyes,” she went on briskly, looking at Raithe.

“It’s the only place they’ll be vulnerable to the sands.

When the storm hits, walk single file behind me and Rhyne—we’ll try to provide a little cover from the winds. ”

“You’re not going to fly?” I asked.

The insect rider gave me a faint smile. “I said I would guide you through the steppes to my clan,” she replied. “I will keep

that promise, even if it is to be through a sandstorm. Besides,” she went on, with an affectionate look at Rhyne, chewing

a dead bush behind her, “rock beetles are typically hatched in the harshest regions of the steppes, where the wind and storms

are much more severe. Unlike soft and fleshy mammals, sandstorms are nothing for them.”

“What about you?” Halek asked. “I mean, I hate to break it to you, but you’re a soft and fleshy mammal, too.”

She snorted. “That’s why I wear armor.”

The winds grew stronger, gusting across the steppes and sending giant clouds of dust into the air. The dragons were too agitated

to be ridden, continuing to toss their heads and claw at the ground. Kysa and Raithe wrapped strips of cloth around their

eyes, and we led them into the wind.

“Here it comes,” Raithe muttered.

I peeked up and saw a wall of sand coming toward us, swallowing the earth as it moved. Ducking my head, I braced myself as

the storm front crashed into us, and everything vanished in a maelstrom of swirling sand and shrieking wind.

I kept my head low as waves of sand battered my clothes, stinging my arms and the backs of my hands.

Peeking up, I could just see Rhyne’s large black bulk in front of us, trudging steadily through the wind.

Sand curled around him, splitting on either side of his carapace as the giant beetle moved forward, shielding us from the worst of the storm.

I glanced behind me and saw Halek walking forward with one arm raised in front of his eyes, a strip of cloth wrapped around his own face, covering his nose and mouth.

Raithe brought up the rear, head down and shoulders hunched against the wind as he walked.

A strangled cry echoed through the swirling sands, and behind me, my dragon jerked to a halt. I turned, holding its reins

tightly, as it threw up its head with a snort, baring its teeth and scratching at the ground. Its blindfold had come loose,

and I saw that its pupils were razor-thin slits against the yellow of its eyes. Behind me, Halek’s and Raithe’s dragons were

also rearing back and shaking their heads with alarmed snorts.

“Kysa!” I called, my voice muffled by the swirling winds. “Something is wrong! I think the dragons sense—”

With a shriek that sounded more terrified than angry, my dragon leaped backward, tearing the reins from my hands.

Before I could react, it turned and bolted into the curtains of sand around us.

Moments later, my blood chilled as a scream of pain and terror echoed through the gale, causing the other two dragons to go wild with fear.

Halek’s dragon lunged at him, fangs bared, and the Fatechaser dropped the reins as he jerked back to avoid the snapping teeth.

The dragon instantly whirled and dashed away into the sands and darkness.

But before it disappeared, several goat size shadows scuttled forward and swarmed the dragon.

I heard another chilling shriek as the storm swallowed them and they vanished from sight.

“Kysa!” I turned, searching for the insect rider. “What’s happening?”