Page 16

Eight

KURAI

“ S o, you live at the temple?” Ciana’s voice sounded rough.

“Yes,” I replied, drawing the cover lower over my face.

We’d been walking for a while, with the sun steadily rising and the heat gaining strength. The air over the black sand of the desert shimmered with heat rising up. The ground was scorching hot already, baking my feet inside my boots.

I hid my face in my clothing, yearning for shade. The wind was picking up, steadily growing into a storm. But we had to keep walking for as long as we could. We needed to put as much distance as possible between us and Kalmena.

Since my mission had failed and no harm had been caused, I’d committed no obvious crime. I’d never shown anyone my tattoo either. They had no proof of my taking a part in the Watchers’ plot. But now, I stole a precious Joy Vessel.

Ciana was a crown jewel that couldn’t be taken without consequences. The Royal Council might forget about the small commotion I’d caused in the sarai , but they wouldn’t let me get away with taking a Joy Vessel. They would never let me keep her.

The wise thing would've been to point Ciana in the right direction and let her walk back to Kalmena on her own, hoping that the guards would find her before the day storm would trap her. But I couldn’t risk leaving her alone in the desert.

And if I were completely honest with myself, I preferred not to part from her at all.

Maybe it made me delusional, but I believed I could take better care of her than the Joy Vessel Keepers in the sarai . I didn’t trust them to keep her happy because none of them took their time to learn what made her sad in the first place. They didn’t know her the way I did.

“How does it work?” She kept talking despite the wind shoving at us from all directions. “Do all of you live in the temple together? Like monks?”

“We’re Joy Guardians, not monks.”

“You’ve said that before, but what’s the difference? If you all live at the temple and pray like monks in a monastery?”

“We don’t pray the way monks do. We don’t worship any of the gods. They have their own temples, priests, and priestesses. Our main and only purpose is to take care of the Source of Joy.”

“What exactly is that Source?”

“Visually, it’s a magical honeycomb of glass. But it’s filled with joy that cannot be fully appreciated by sight only. It was created by the First Priestess and filled with joy from the fae of the Above. We guard it. We protect it from any harm or…pollution.” My voice hitched as I glanced at her.

Whether she realized that the “pollution” included her, she didn’t show it.

“Are you allowed to fall in love?” she asked. “Can you have a family?”

“It’s not forbidden but highly discouraged.

Male and female Joy Guardians know not to spend too much time one on one as not to facilitate any attraction forming between them.

We all live together and work in groups rather than couples.

In addition, the female Joy Guardians leave the temple for a week around their fertile period. ”

“Why?”

“Because that’s when an attraction can trigger the mating fever in shadow fae, which may result in offspring.”

“And that’d be bad? Why?”

“Not bad but inconvenient. Having a spouse and a family reorganizes one’s priorities. We cannot lose our focus.”

“Which is to serve your Joy Source?”

“Exactly.”

She caught my eyes with her gaze. The sun truly didn’t seem to bother her as much as it disturbed me. She even seemed to enjoy it, squinting in the sunlight that made her brown eyes look like drops of honey.

“Are you content with that purpose, Kurai? Is that how you’re intending to live the rest of your life? In the temple with your friends?”

“The Joy Guardians aren’t friends but colleagues,” I corrected.

“Why can’t they be both?”

“Because friends will often betray their duty to help each other. But we will forsake each other in order to serve our cause.”

“That sounds harsh.” She rubbed her wrist, looking uncomfortable.

“It’s the highest purpose in the world to tend to the most precious treasure our kingdom has ever had. It is an honor and a privilege to spend my life close to our one true Joy.”

The words that would normally fill me with reverie, came out sounding flat even to my own ear. Not backed up by a genuine emotion, they were nothing but a sound, and I wasn’t certain why that happened or how.

I wished I could return to the temple at once, longing for the peace and order that connecting to the Joy always brought me. Thoughts and feelings were so much easier to sort through in its divine presence.

“We should cease our conversation and preserve our strength,” I said promptly .

That was true. With every word, the desert sucked more moisture from our bodies. Ciana’s ragged breath turned even more labored as she trudged through the sand over the crest of a dune. The wind had picked up even more, blowing the fine dust from under our feet.

“But talking is distracting me from this heat.” Her tongue darted out in an attempt to wet her chapped lips.

“Let’s have some water.” I took out a leather bag, and her eyes lit up. “Just a sip for now. We need to ration it.”

Her delicate throat moved as she took a drink.

“Thank you.” She licked her lips again, then watched me put the bag away. “Aren’t you having some too?”

“I can live without water much longer than you.”

The words made my dry throat sore. Despite the pain, however, I could make the entire journey to Himerum without a drop of water if I had to. Ciana needed it more than I did.

Wind tossed a blast of sand at our backs. The storm was growing stronger.

“We’ll stop there, by these rocks. You’ll need some sleep.” I said, choosing a place for us to weather the worst few hours of the day.

Her features pinched into a pensive expression, but she didn’t waste time to argue.

“Fine. Keep rubbing it in how weak and fragile I am, magic boy,” she muttered.

There was no bite in her voice, however. On the contrary, it sounded soft, almost caressing to my ear. I’d learned her expressions well by now to read gratitude in her eyes when our gazes crossed.

“It’s me who’s weak and fragile, Ciana. Can we stop to let me rest please?” I asked with a smile that was very real, despite being my own. The anticipation of her laughter at my joke lifted my spirits.

She gave me a look that told me she didn’t buy my claim in the slightest. But her giggle was my reward .

“Alright, let’s rest, my weak and fragile one,” she teased.

In reality, I wasn’t the weak and fragile one, just like I wasn’t hers. I could never be hers. But just for one moment, I allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like if we belonged to each other, and that moment was truly magical.

Ciana tripped, and I reached for her instinctively.

“I’m fine.” She waved me off, taking another unsteady step forward.

Our third night in the desert was coming to an end. The sun was about to rise, and I was considering calling for a break early today.

Days stretched into an endless torture of heat and storms. Nights had been long stretches of plodding through the black sand.

Ciana didn’t complain, but I knew she was hungry and exhausted.

She’d been without food for a long time now, which took a toll on her human body.

I was tired too. Our water was running low even without me drinking it. We both could use a filling meal too.

“We’ll be at the well by nightfall,” I said. “But we need to rest soon.”

She nodded, then tripped again. Swaying sideways, she stumbled away from me in an attempt to regain her balance. With her arms flailing, she spread her feet wide, but they sank into the sand up to her ankles, and they kept sinking deeper.

“Kurai?” Her voice was small. She stared at her feet in horror, then lifted her wide-open eyes up at me. “Is it quicksand?”

I had no idea. But the ground was literally swallowing her.

“Ciana. Don’t move,” I tried to speak calmly through the rising panic.

I fought the urge to jump after her. But to be in the position to help her, I had to stay on solid ground .

A funnel formed around her feet.

“What do I do?” she asked softly, holding as still as a mouse.

I froze too, afraid to breathe with my mind rushing in search of a solution.

“Give me your hand.” I reached for her.

She nodded, stretching her arm toward me. But our hands never connected.

“Ah!” With a single sound, she disappeared, swallowed by the sand at once.

I fell to my knees, digging in the sand for the woman I couldn’t stand to lose.

“Ciana, Ciana, Ciana…” I chanted like a prayer to my new goddess, the only one I prayed to.

My tendrils unfurled, spurred not by logic but desperation. I speared with them through the sand, sifting and searching.

How long could a human live without air?

How long had it been since she fell?

It felt like ages had already passed with me searching through the sand.

Fully extended, the tendrils reached deeper. Deep underground, I sensed the pull of her leilathas and let it happen. I let my tendrils connect to her emotions.

Her fear overwhelmed me. It was so raw and base, slamming into me like a mountain of darkness. But it brought relief too. She felt . It meant she was still alive.

I reached deeper into the funnel in the sand. Following the tendrils with my hands, I found her by touch.

“Ciana.” I pulled her up, freeing her face and shoulders.

She coughed. Her eyes opened wide. She saw me, and recognition softened the terror on her face.

“Oh my God, Kurai.” She threw her arms around my neck, clinging to me like to a lifeline.

“I’ve got you.” I pressed my cheek to the side of her face, savoring the warmth of life in her skin. I touched the side of her neck with my lips. The pulse of blood in her veins gave me reassurance. “Let me get you out.”

I pulled her up, but the sand wouldn’t release her. It moved around her body, sifting and pushing her down.

“I’ve got you,” I repeated stubbornly, ready to fight the desert, the sky, and the sun for her.