15. A Hatchling and a Journey Across the Sand Isles #2
As soon as Agath had the opportunity, she trapped Sapphira in Jagun Castle. But despite her cruelty, Sapphira had once felt some happiness that her aunt had chosen to stay. She thought it meant some part of the woman cared. Now she wonders if it was all a part of her plan.
Sapphira’s aunt and cousins are inconsiderate slobs who believe that they’re gifts to everyone and are meant to be served.
Sapphira was disgusted by this, but she had also begun to adopt some of those attitudes without realizing it, not thinking about the comforts or needs of others around her and putting her own needs first. They weren’t acting as a family should.
There was no love there. They were all using each other.
Sapphira focuses back on Isabel’s open and questioning face, pushing away the painful memories. “You would do that for me?” she asks.
Isabel’s smile is soft, and her eyes are a bit sad. “Of course I would.”
Sapphira rushes forward to hug her before she can think about it. With her face pressed into her curls, she says, “I think I want that.” And if someone is following me, I can lose them in my journey across the Sand Isles.
“Okay,” Isabel whispers back. “Then we’ll do it. We’ll find where you came from.”
They pack light initially, then head to the nearest big city, Tweololf, to prepare for the long journey ahead. Sapphira is sad to leave Lomadaku and Isabel’s little cottage.
With the coin they got from the mermaid’s coin pouch, they buy nonperishable food, warm clothes, sleeping gear, large, expensive water packs, and anything they can carry on themselves. They put the heaviest items on Kaelen’s shifted form, carrying their food and sleeping packs.
They journey by sky in the evening and on foot during the day. Day after day, they journey through the deadlands, avoiding the land islands as they go. The desert is harsh but not as difficult as the things they would encounter in the unknown.
The worst things are the heat, sandstorms, and massive ringed serpents that slither under the sand.
Sapphira and Kaelen are lucky to have Isabel because she knows the flora that contains water and nutrients.
She can guess when most of the sandstorms will arrive by the wind changes so they can take cover.
With her priceless sword and Kaelen’s beastly strength, Sapphira is enough to fight off any creatures that roam the desert and try to attack.
Without Kaelen’s speed and Isabel’s big brain, they could get lost in the desert for months.
As they pass through lush desert forests, mountains, vast canyons, and beautiful lakes and rivers that sparkle with the sun and in the fading sunset, Sapphira is taken away with the beauty of the Sand Isles.
Back home, she was stuck in a castle for half her life and never stepped foot outside her small island kingdom.
She barely even witnessed the land she ruled.
Despite her riches and privilege, she has seen little of the world. The thought is bittersweet.
One evening, Sapphira has to use the bathroom and clear her head.
She gets farther from their camp than she’d planned.
As she makes her way back, she reflects on her home and a family she might never see again.
Dorian, Fein . . . she doesn’t even know if they’re all right.
Guilt twists her gut as she wanders back toward Isabel and Kaelen, who are camped out for the night in a sandstone cave they found.
Sapphira squints through the hazy, blue dark, trying to locate the cave mouth against the silhouette of cacti and rolling tumbleweeds.
The red sands beneath her feet stir, a sharp scent of earth invading her nose.
Her eyes widen as a massive, shadowy figure forms, the wind howling as sand whips around her and stings her exposed skin.
A wall of sand stolen from beneath Sapphira’s feet swallows the dune. She falls to her back, shielding her face from the growing winds as the sandstorm builds and a sharp cry pierces the night.
“Sapphira!” Isabel shouts into the darkness, her figure obscured by the wall of sand.
“I’m here!” Sapphira shouts back. “Go back to shelter, leave me!” she adds, not wanting Isabel to throw herself into danger for her.
But the selfless, foolish girl doesn’t listen.
A small hand closes over Sapphira’s, and a vast, hulking figure appears at her side.
The takops digs fiercely into the ground, throwing up sand to join the chorus in the sky.
“Jump in,” Isabel says, squeezing Sapphira’s hand before she leaps feet first, sliding down into the hole Kaelen dug.
Sapphira follows her, and Kaelen shifts back, hunkering down beside them in the hollow.
Isabel pulls a blanket from her bag and throws it over them.
They all hold it tight over their heads, huddled in close and hunched down as near to the ground as they can get.
The wind continues to rage, hiss, and spit up the sand around them as they lie shaking. Sapphira’s shoulder shields Isabel, and her legs are tangled with Kaelen’s. The man whimpers, his head against her neck, and Sapphira’s eyes are shut tight as she clenches the blanket above her.
The sandstorm lasts through most of the night. It’s long and the harshest one they’ve come across so far. Isabel apologizes profusely over the whistling sky. “I’m so sorry. It came out of nowhere. I didn’t see it coming.” Sapphira calms her down, using her free hand to grip the woman’s thigh.
The Hybller tucked into the top of Isabel’s cloak squeals and wriggles around, and Isabel tries to shush it, stroking its back through the fabric. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” she says. The words are like a balm to Sapphira’s ears. Like honey-whispered dreams.
As the night drags on, they use pointless conversation to try to distract themselves from what’s happening on the other side of the blanket.
In the morning, they wake up piled atop each other and gather on the blanket.
Only Kaelen didn’t let go of it in his sleep, his hand still clenched tight in the fabric.
Sapphira loosens his fingers and pushes the blanket off them.
The cacti and other desert foliage that dotted the landscape last night have been ripped up from the ground.
Now the surrounding area is flat. There’s only red sand as far as Sapphira’s eye can see.
She realizes that they’re lucky to have escaped the previous sandstorms if this is the destruction they’re capable of.
The sandstorm isn’t the only danger they encounter though. The next attack also comes at night.
They’re sleeping soundly in a hollowed-out tree after a long day of travel.
They went much farther looking for cover and were exhausted when they found an area of redwood trees.
The stars were already falling, though they didn’t come very close.
The stars don’t enter the deadlands, so it’s overrun with outlaws and monsters.
A sound wakes Sapphira, who shoots straight up.
Her eyes roam over Kaelen and Isabel, who are still sound asleep.
Was it a nightmare? she wonders. Sapphira looks around the tree, but nothing appears amiss.
She peeks out into the darkness, only to scream at the sight that greets her, her heart pounding as she throws herself against the opposite wall of the hollowed tree.
At her shout, Kaelen and Isabel wake.
“What is it?” Isabel slurs, arms up and ready as she holds them protectively in front of her. The Hybller, which is tucked between Isabel and Kaelen, gets down on all fours and begins hissing at the dark opening and into the night.
“Yes, why did you scream?” Kaelen asks, surveying their surroundings.
When he sees nothing, he glares at a wide-eyed and terrified Sapphira.
“You woke me up for nothing. Now it will take even longer for me to fall asleep, and I’ll be exhausted in the morning.
I might even drop you while I’m flying,” he grumbles.
Sapphira doesn’t have to say anything. As Kaelen rants, a scratching sound echoes through the bark from the other side of the tree.
His words die on his lips as he shrieks.
Slowly, sharp claws pierce the tree like parchment, and two large heads peer in at them, crawling into the tree from above as something walks along the wall, nails ripping at the tree bark.
“What in star’s name is that!” Kaelen yells.
Isabel’s eyes widen as if she knows exactly what it is. She stutters out, “It’s the two-headed cat-bear, Vordrdjul. But it can’t be. It shouldn’t be here, in the deadlands of all places.”
“And why not?” Kaelen shouts, eyes tracking the thing crawling above them as it moves slowly closer, nails digging into the sand. “This seems like the exact place it’d be.”
“B-because it shouldn’t exist,” she whispers hoarsely, voice trembling with a terror that sends a chill down Sapphira’s spine. “The Vordrdjul are fables. Underworld creatures led by twin flames, Hela and Hjol. My mother used to tell me bedtime stories about them.”
“What in the world kind of mother was she?” Sapphira screeches.
The red-brown creature with a sleek back and white-and-black patches slinks farther inward, circling toward them. A long tail flicks out with a dull thud.
“I was an odd kid, okay? I liked stories about the underworld. Vordrdjul’s two heads represent the double-sided nature of the twins created by their masters. The creature guards against intruders but also those who aren’t meant to be in Helheim. Souls at peace with both halves of themselves.”
Sapphira’s head spins. “So, a fictional creature is growling down at us from the ceiling right now?” she asks shrilly.
Isabel nods.
The Vordrdjul leaps at them, headed straight for Sapphira, who raises her sword.
“No!” Isabel shouts as Sapphira presses her back to the tree trunk and swings Marbhchìor with all her might. The blade slides through the daemon’s flesh with a sickening sound, and the head goes rolling.