Followed by Fros(24)

One night, a day outside the Unclaimed Lands, Imad brought me a bowl of stew. I did not know what meat floated in its dark orange waters, but I recognized the leeks. Southlanders, apparently, liked their food spicy. When I asked Imad why, the older soldier with the scorpion helmet, named Eyan, jested in Hraric, “To kill anything living in it!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and was forced to set down my half-frozen bowl to prevent the food from sloshing onto my hands. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed, and it felt both strange and revitalizing.

Others chuckled and regarded me with a curious eye. In Hraric, I responded, “I think I’ve already killed anything within a mile.”

They laughed—either from my joke or from my slaughtering of their language, I couldn’t be sure. Imad grinned from beside me, if two paces away could be called “beside.” Any closer than that was too close for most people. Even Lo’s mouth seemed to twitch with the threat of a smile. But perhaps that was only a trick of the light.

The soldiers watched what they said around me, and I no longer heard whispers of “devil” or “bewitched”—at least not from that group. The men spoke to me more freely as well. To my relief, Lo did not stop them.

The trees thinned the farther south we traveled, and the soil dried until it looked more gray than brown, and cracked in a jagged disarray comparable to branches of frost. Lo and a few others rode ahead of the party, removing their extra coats once they escaped the range of my storm.

Eyan must have seen my confusion, for he said, “They’re scouting. Sometimes bandits roam the borders. If they steal any of our horses, we won’t get all our camels back at the way station, even with the prince.”

I nodded and looked ahead to Imad, who was laughing at something a soldier had said. I noticed then how tightly the men rode around him, Lo at the front.

“His safety is paramount,” Eyan said. “When it comes to Prince Imad, the captain is all seriousness.”

I wanted to say the captain was all seriousness anyway, but refrained.

The cracks in the dry earth became longer and wider the farther south we traveled, and soon the parched ground was all I could see in any given direction. No trees, no mountains. A few shriveled, thorny plants struggled from the ground, and occasionally a sand-colored hawk passed overhead, but there were no other signs of life.

The hard, splintered ground gradually transformed to a more grainy terrain shortly before we reached the way station: a long, single-storied building made from pale mud bricks and splintered wood, run by men who claimed only the unclaimed deserts as their homeland, though their complexions—ranging from fawn to umber—and the slurry of their accents told me they were of a worldwide heritage.

Sure enough, the stables were filled with camels—animals I only recognized from pictures and references in books. Perhaps a camel could be said to resemble a horse, if someone were to comb a horse’s coat into long, uneven patches and stretch out its neck and legs. The absurd beasts grunted and spat, not a friendly one among the bunch. They were the sort of animals that challenged you with their eyes. I would have preferred to ride Lo’s imposing warhorse than to so much as pet one of them.

I did not dismount at the way station when the others did. Men in loose shirts as long as dresses and baggy hoods darted out to collect the animals, many of them gawking at both myself and Imad. Me, because of the curse, and Imad, because, well, he was a prince. When Imad came back to check on me, I asked him if I could keep my horse.

He laughed. “Surely you are not scared of the camels!”

I chewed my cold, trembling lip, trying not to let my teeth chatter. I hated to ask anything of Imad, who had already done so much for me, but the long-necked beasts frightened me enough to risk it.

“You said I could have anything, yes?” I asked, rubbing my mount’s reins between my fingers. “Please forgive my asking, but let me ride the horse a little longer.”

Imad looked sympathetic. Patting my horse’s nose, he said, “Smeesa, beyond this point the earth is too soft for a horse. You have not been to Zareed; let me explain.” He gestured south. “My men have enjoyed the trip back, since it is so cool in your presence,” he smiled, “but outside of your presence, it is very hot here, and it will only grow hotter. Not far from here the ground is thick with sand. A horse’s feet cannot take it, nor can they tolerate the heat. That is why Northlanders ride horses, and we ride fapar.”

I swallowed, nodded.

“I will give you the tamest,” he promised, offering me a gloved hand.

I shook my head and dismounted on my own. “Thank you,” I said. “I have seen plenty of wild creatures in my travels. I . . . think I can manage a camel.”

“Those bears of yours?” Imad asked, escorting me toward the camels, his braids swinging behind his ears. “I have not seen any, but I hear they are . . .” He struggled with the Northlander word, but instead of speaking in Hraric, he settled on “big.”

I nodded, though in truth, I had been thinking of Sadriel. He had not appeared to me since I joined the Southlanders.

I masked my uncertainty as best as I could when one of the stable hands brought out my camel. The beast stood so tall it had to lie down before I could board it, but it encouraged me that its saddle—sitting atop a massive hump—seemed secure. It was fashioned almost like a baby crib, with a rounded pommel in the front and back. Still, even with several layers of protective blankets, the camel shied away from me. The beast even swung its head to bite me when I got too close. Though Imad had claimed he was the tamest animal of the bunch, and I believed him, most animals sensed something wrong about me, and this one proved no different. The stable hands tried to calm the animal, brushing their hands over its neck and distracting it with food, but each time one of them guided me close, the animal snapped, scooted, or stood. I stepped out of the way as the stable hands brought out a different camel. Embarrassed at the fuss, I was thankful my cold skin forbade flushing or perspiration. I shivered.