Empire of Sand

I couldn’t breathe.

The darkness was so oppressive, it choked me, pinning me to the ground, immobilizing me. I needed to get away; I needed to rescue Mayven and Mama, who were in harm’s way. I screamed for help, but none came. Roweena’s wicked laugh echoed through the darkness, her red poison floating through the void like stars. My body was so cold, I trembled until my bones cracked. I tried to take a deep breath, but my throat constricted, suffocating me from the inside.

Help!

Banshee’s irises appeared first, cruel and opaque. William’s voice called out in desperation, like a ghost in the night. I fought for air. I fought to move. Panic overwhelmed me as the screaming ceased one by one—first Mama, then Mayven, until finally, William’s strangled gasp faded into the night, a last cry for help cut short.

I gasped and sat up, knocking the blanket from my lap. The barracks were dark and stuffy, and my chest felt too full. I needed to get out and breathe in the fresh air. Stumbling past my sleeping roommates, I pushed the door open and drew in a ragged gasp. The cool night air was like an oasis in the desert. My flushed skin bathed in it, and my heartbeat slowed. I stood in the courtyard with my hands on my thighs, taking deep breaths and evicting the dreams from my memory.

“Are you alright?”

I started and clutched my chest, fighting the impulse to snap at the watchmen who had surprised me. I studied his handsome features instead. He had full lips and deep brown eyes. His sandy hair was cropped short, and his lashes were long and dark. He was unconventionally good-looking.

“Yes. My apologies, I just—I had a terrible nightmare,” I explained.

How idiotic I must seem to him, a young lady running out of the barracks clad in a shift and complaining about bad dreams. Some contender I was turning out to be.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have them, too. Here—” he gestured to a pile of stones being used by the masons working in the courtyard. His Highness thought the soldiers needed another stone wall or two to look at. I eased down onto the pile of stones, grimacing as the sharp edges bit into my legs. My heart resumed its usual pace, and my breathing slowed.

“Tell me about it,” he coaxed.

I shifted uncomfortably. Who was this man? What did he care about my dreams?

“It’s nothing, sir. I thank you for your compassion, but I should be returning to my barracks—”

“My name is Paul.”

“Ash,” I replied, standing up.

“I’ve just been assigned to the watchmen,” he explained. “I’m from Cryth. If my father hadn’t arranged for this assignment before his death, I would probably be contending in the Trials, too.”

I was suddenly self-conscious of my ragged appearance. The shift stopped at my knees, and my bare legs and feet were apparent in the night’s cool air. My hair was a tangled mess.

“You are fortunate to have a place in service of His Highness,” I told him. I wasn’t convinced of that, but I knew it needed to be said.

“I am fortunate. This position gives me an honorable place and a steady means of providing for my mama and two younger sisters.”

I nodded, considering the best means of escape without offending the talkative guard.

“You remind me of one of them,” he confided.

“Of one of your sisters?”

“Yes. Talia. She’s seventeen, two years younger than I am. We grew up close.”

That explained it. I resembled someone he missed.

“Tell me about her,” I said, easing back onto the stones.

Paul looked wistful.

“Talia is a free spirit. She’s adventurous, and always reading. She has no plans to marry. She dreams of traveling the continents and writing a book of her own.”

I’d heard rumors that many of the eastern continents did not want their women to be educated. Under Emperor Fallon’s rule, women were permitted to study, but female authors were a rarity.

“That’s quite a dream,” I told him.

“That’s Talia. Her dreams are as big as her heart, I suppose.”

We sat in companionable silence, studying the night sky and its blanket of stars.

“When did you choose to serve His Highness?”

“I didn’t choose. My father decided it was beneficial to our family. He expected to die soon, and he wanted to ensure that my mother and sisters were properly cared for.”

Paul reminded me of Mayven in some ways. Like Paul, Mayven had assumed the leadership role in our little family, a task that came with great sacrifice on his part.

“You remind me a little of Mayven, my brother,” I confessed.

“Is that so?”

I nodded.

“Perhaps you and I can be family for a time,” he said.

I scraped together a smile and nodded in agreement. I’d never known a watchman to be this friendly or amenable to forging friendships with someone like me, but loneliness was a powerful motivator, and we’d both sacrificed already. The idea seemed peculiar coming from a stranger, but who was I to scoff? I could benefit from an ally, especially one in the Emperor’s guard.

“Now off with you, before you get caught.” He smiled playfully.

I lay awake in my bedroll for a time, contemplating my new acquaintance. It wasn’t altogether dangerous to befriend a guard, only frowned upon, but who would find out? What harm could be done by a temporary friendship forged in shared loneliness? My anxiety remained, and my thoughts churned as I considered the possibilities. Tessie’s words haunted me: Who could I trust?

_#_

The next morning, Ian’s bedroll was empty. His bedcovers were rumpled and cold, with no sign of their owner. A terrible sense of foreboding settled in the pit of my stomach like a stone. Roweena was in a good mood, heightening my suspicion. Had Roweena done something to Ian? Or had he gone out and spent the night elsewhere? I’d heard rumors of contenders spending their evenings in the taphouses in the city, but most returned to their barracks before sunrise. With the Trials progressing, our chances of being dismissed increased, and no one wanted to be sent home for a drunken night in the city.

“Has anyone seen Ian?” Tessie asked.

“I haven’t seen him since we went to sleep last night,” said Replica.

Roweena perched on the end of her bedroll, plaiting her hair with a satisfied expression on her face.

“Roweena?”

Roweena stopped plaiting and raised her eyebrows at Tessie.

“Yes, slave girl?”

“You’re in a great mood today. Do you have any idea where Ian might have gone?”

Roweena rolled her eyes and continued working on her long hair.

“What do I look like, a sheepdog? Ian is quite old enough to mind himself. Besides, some people like to go around the corridors after hours.”

Roweena shot me a meaningful look.

Nine pairs of eyes trained on me made me tense.

“I don’t know where he’s gone,” I defended.

“Of course not,” Roweena retorted. “You were too busy with the Emperor’s guards.”

“Ash, is this true? Are you sneaking around with the night watchmen?” Glorys asked.

“I— no! I stepped out for a bit of fresh air and—”

“You know that if the wrong people found out, it could mean your dismissal,” she reminded me.

“Yes. I’m not fraternizing with the guards!”

“That’s enough. We’re all concerned for Ian,” Tessie said, “but let’s not forget ourselves. In case the rest of you haven’t noticed, Roweena is an opportunist and a liar. You can hardly rely on her word.”

Roweena’s eyes flashed, and she shot to her feet. Replica, sensing the impending fight, stepped between her and Tessie with his arms extended wide.

“Let us also not forget master Givven’s’ warning. Any violence outside the pods is cause for dismissal.”

The surrounding air grew chilly as an icy wind drifted through the barracks. We all felt the change, and our gazes immediately shifted to the door, where Banshee waited in silence.

“I’ve some unfortunate news,” he said, as he stepped farther into the barracks. Our group backed away instinctively, a detail Banshee would not have missed. Did he relish the effect he had on others? Did the fear he inspired give him a sense of power?

“Ian will no longer be contending in the Trials.”

“Why not?” Tessie asked.

“Because he is dead.”