Page 20 of A Shard of Ice

Kyrie’s eyes go wide, and she noticeably shivers, nodding once.

“I’m going to ask the camel to get down on her knees. I will need you to help me get Cyrano into the saddle. We can tie him in place.” I frown. “I have to warn you that it’s touch and go on whether he will make it.”

“I think you’re right. Thank you for helping him.” She almost looks relieved, like maybe she expected me to leave him behind because I’m a fae now.

“Helping him is the right thing to do.”

I fetch the camel and start to coax her to go down onto her haunches. Once the camel is settled on the ground, Kyrie helps me to lift Cyrano into the saddle. It isn’t easy, but we manage to secure him in place, tying him firmly so he won’t fall off during our journey.

Kyrie mounts Cyrano’s camel, who is looking much improved after the break, and I lead the animals.

When I look up, Kyrie is looking down at the dead lizard bird. “It’s much bigger than I thought it would be. I mean, I’ve seen them before, but not up close.”

“They’re pretty scary creatures.”

“I’d say. They’re called by various names, lizard bird, desert bird…there’s also flying lizard but none of those are accurate. This thing is huge and grotesque. A killer.”

“That’s for sure.”

It is very much a mix between a lizard and a bird, only much, much bigger than either species. It has the gleaming scales and long tail of a lizard but the delicate wings and feathers of a bird. Its head is mostly scales, with eyes that could belong on either creature.

It’s the giant, blood-soaked talons and sharp, curved beak that truly draw my attention. Cyrano is lucky he survived the encounter. He’s lucky it was only one. They sometimes hunt in groups of two or three. He’s just plain lucky.

I hope he makes it to the oasis. I hope we all make it.

“How long do we have to find rock?” Kyrie asks, looking up at the sky.

“We have time.” But not nearly as much as I’d like. I pick up the pace, searching but not seeing anything. We won’t make the night without rock. Not with the scent of blood in the air.

7

Damon

The sun is almost on the horizon. Soon, darkness will fall.

“It’ll have to do,” I tell Kyrie. “We don’t have much of a choice.” I scrub a hand over my face.

“That’s barely more than a rock. It’s too small.” She shakes her head, looking around us. “I can’t see anything else but sand.” She looks off into the desert, peering in all directions. “Sand, sand, and more blasted sand.”

“Neither can I, and my eyesight is better than yours. This is going to have to do.”

“You said that the smell of blood would draw predators.” Her eyes are wide, and her voice is slightly shrill. “Of all the nights to have to sleep on such a tiny patch of rock, this had to be it. There are more of us…it’s…we…” She sighs. “I don’t like it, Tay— I don’t like it!” she pushes out, sounding annoyed at the slip.

“It’s big enough; we’ll make do,” I try to reassure her but from the stiffness in her shoulders, I can see that it isn’t working.

I turn my gaze back to the rocky patch. There are several big boulders atop a small rocky base. There is a wide gap betweentwo of the rocks. The camels should fit inside it. I’m going to put a rope across the opening to keep them inside the small space. They should be safe if they stay put. I hope it’s deep and narrow enough to keep the wurms out. Then there’s a much smaller crevice that will be big enough for Cyrano. That doesn’t leave much space for Kyrie and me. If the wurms come for us, we will be in trouble. They’d get us on top of the rocks, so it’s not an option for escape. There would be very little space in either crevice. We might have to sacrifice a camel, but that would be the last resort.

With no other option, I lead the camels toward the outcrop. As we arrive, I offer my hand to Kyrie, but as usual, she ignores me and jumps from the beast, landing on her feet. She dusts herself off, pulling her hemp scarf from her head, allowing her hair to fall free.

Despite the sand, the dust, and the grime, she’s still beautiful. I would love to give her more words of encouragement, soothe her with a touch or a silly joke, but I can’t. I know it wouldn’t be well received. Not anymore.

I grab one of the bedrolls and place it as deep inside the narrow crevice as I can. I have to turn a little sideways to fit my shoulders in. Cyrano will be safe in here. Then I maneuver the camel carrying the injured man as close to the small crevice as we can get, and ask her to go down. Kyrie helps me to get him off the beast.

I take his shoulders, and most of the weight, and Kyrie keeps his feet from dragging on the ground and we slowly get him over to the bedroll. It takes a few attempts to get him settled.

After covering him with a blanket, Kyrie fetches the skin and tries to get Cyrano to drink. She talks to him even though he probably can’t hear her.

“He’s out of it,” she says, looking worried. Her eyes are clouded with the emotion. “He isn’t swallowing.”

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