Page 11 of Across the Crimson Sands

The stars shimmered brilliantly in the expanse of the Crimson Sands. I could trace the faint outline of the galaxy cutting through clusters of distant planets. As much as I despised this desolate world, its nocturnal beauty was its sole redeeming quality.

As I began arranging kindling and striking matches to ignite our fire, a soft voice broke the silence behind me.

“What are you cooking?” She spoke quietly, as if accustomed to remaining unheard.

I exhaled slowly. “Steazel. A small one. It’ll be enough for us for the night.”

“You killed that thing by yourself?”

“What alternative did I have?” I replied, my tone clipped.

“You’re not concerned about its safety for consumption?”

I kept my expression impassive, focusing on nurturing the nascent flames. “We require sustenance. I slayed a beast. We will eat. And face another day.”

“We? You’re providing me with food as well?”

I paused momentarily.

I saw no reason to starve her. Besides, Gorin had been clear. He wanted her alive. “Yes.”

“Why return me then? If you’re displaying such kindness?”

I sighed. This is why getting involved was always a mistake. “This is my profession. I was contracted to locate you and return you, so that is precisely what I shall do.”

I carved out two substantial portions of meat from the carcass.

She furrowed her brow, meeting my gaze. “You’re not obligated to return me, though.”

“It’s a job.” I broke the meat into smaller morsels to cook over the diminutive fire. Just enough heat to thoroughly cook, while minimizing light emission. I remained vigilant, ears attuned to any potential predators lurking nearby. But there was nothing save for us and the natural silence of the desert.

I divided the food as it finished cooking, allocating more to myself out of necessity. She was, after all, the reason for this prolonged pursuit.

“So,” she ventured again. “Where do you hail from?”

I hesitated briefly. “Irrelevant,” I replied flatly.

“Very well,” her voice trailed off. “What’s your name?”

“Also irrelevant.”

I heard her eyes roll in the darkness. “C’mon. Gimme somethin’ to call you besides ‘hey, asshole.’“

“Rokan.”

“I’m Arilee.”

I knew.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she quipped, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “And since you asked so nicely, nope, got zero interest in goin’ back to Gorin.”

“Noted.” The meat sizzled as I passed her a portion.

“He ain’t exactly Mr. Congeniality.”

“I’m aware.” Juice trickled down my chin as I tore into my share.

“This is heavenly.” Arilee gnawed her piece, then licked her digits clean. “Got any more?”

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