From then on, time aboard ship passed quickly. By the beginning of the second week, Gewey began rising early to study the ship and its workings. The crew was happy to teach him, and he found himself looking forward to it as much he did his lessons with Aaliyah. The crew relished telling him stories from their homeland, and were eager to learn of his life as well. Their cheer and good nature reminded him of Linis and his seekers. It was comforting to know that he did not need to convince them to be his allies. Though they did not say it, he felt as if they would do anything he asked of them.
But even though he had immersed himself in his lessons, Kaylia was never far from his mind. The absence of her thoughts and emotions was an open wound that felt as if it would never heal. Several times per day he would try to reach her, but without success. Each time he did, Aaliyah appeared shortly after to give him further instruction. Somehow she knew what he was doing. But worse, she knew what he was feeling, and could say just the right thing to send his heart pounding and cheeks blushing. Most of the time this was followed by heart-wrenching guilt. But she would occasionally catch him off guard, and he would respond more in the manner of a suitor than a student. This, naturally, caused him even more guilt and torment.
Then, by midway through the second week, the cool evenings had become warm and muggy. Aaliyah told him that they were about a hundred miles from the shores of a large delta city. Gewey assumed it was Baltria. She explained that they would remain far from shore to avoid other ships, until they neared their destination in four days. Gewey marveled that they had traveled so far in such a short time.
Aaliyah had told him that he would begin lessons with water on their return journey. Gewey had all but forgotten why they had come. He had heard stories of the desert nomads. Fierce and dangerous, they wandered aimlessly, preying on anyone foolish enough to stray too far from the oasis towns. Ravenous beasts supposedly, roamed the sands as well. Wolves the size of a pony, hunting at night, devouring entire caravans, leaving only the bones to bleach in the scorching sun. He even had heard stories of great flying lizards that breathed fire, though these were the things told to children at night. His father would occasionally delight him with desert tales, and the giant lizard stories had been his favorite.
The day of their arrival Gewey gathered his belongings and went on deck to wait for Aaliyah. He had decided to wear his elf clothing. It was cool and he hoped it would keep the sun at bay. It was just before nightfall and the air was unusually mild. He had hoped some of the crew would be joining them — the idea just the two of them braving the desert sands unsettled his nerves — but Aaliyah had explained that the crew’s place was aboard ship. Should they need help, she could certainly call them.
The small boat they arrived in had already been lowered into the water. The sea was calm and had a pale green tint, unlike the deep, rich blues he had seen before. The crew took turns bidding him farewell and good luck. He knew he would miss their good humor in the days to come, especially if what he had heard of the desert was true.
Gewey saw Aaliyah approaching from the main cabin. She was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting tan trousers and tunic, and she wore a pair of short leather boots. On her belt were two long daggers. Her hair was tied in a tight braid that danced to and fro as she moved. One of the crew followed close behind, carrying her pack.
“Are you prepared?” she asked, taking her pack and slinging it across her shoulders.
Gewey nodded and they climbed down the ladder, into the boat. As before, Aaliyah channeled the flow, and the craft sped forward. It wasn't long before Gewey could make out the dunes just beyond the shoreline. Even from so far away he could see that they were massive, and tried not to think about how hard it would be to walk them. Soon they were to the beach. The waves lapped curiously against the small boat as the craft slid ashore. They gathered their packs and Gewey checked his sword. There was no driftwood about, so they pulled the boat to the base of the dunes.
“With luck, the tide will not rise this high,” said Aaliyah, “or we may be forced to swim back to the ship.”
“What do you-” he started, but saw Aaliyah's mischievous grin. “You're funny.” He looked up at the dunes and sighed. “I assume you know where to go from here.”
“I know what direction to take,” she replied, “but not the exact whereabouts of our destination.” She stiffened and her hands shot to her daggers.
Gewey instinctively drew in the flow of the earth. At once he knew what had alarmed her. On the other side of the dune, he could sense at least fifty humans. He could feel them moving up the side of the dune and heard swords being drawn and arrows notched. “Nomads,” he whispered. “My father told me stories about them.”
Aaliyah drew her daggers. “Whoever they are, they intend us harm.”
How she could tell that, Gewey had no idea, but he was not about to question her. He freed his sword and let the flow rage through him. He could feel it flowing through Aaliyah, but could not tell if she drew from earth or air.
“Pay heed, and do not lose focus,” she commanded. This brought Gewey back to attention. “When they crest the dune, follow me.”
Gewey crouched ready to spring, his knuckles white around his sword. Then, from a hundred yards to their left he heard the snap and twang of a bowstring, and the thin whistle of arrows flying. He looked skyward, fearing that a shower of arrows was about to rain down on them. But they were not the target. A dozen nomads screamed out in agony as the arrows struck home. Gewey reached out to find the source, but could sense nothing. Another volley zipped through the air, and more men fell.
“What should we do?” asked Gewey.
“We hope that whoever aids us is not doing so to keep spoils for themselves,” she replied. “I cannot tell who or what they are.”
He shook his head. “Nor can I.”
The nomads were scattering like ants, some dragging the wounded, others in a full run down the dune, completely abandoning the attack. After a few minutes there was only the sound of the sea and rustle of the wind.
Aaliyah tapped Gewey's shoulder. “Should we be attacked, drag the boat to the water.”
“What will you do?” he asked. He was not about to let her fight alone.
She held out her palm and a tiny ball of flame appeared above it. “I will be showing them that arrows are of little use.”
It was then a thin figure appeared atop a dune one-hundred yards to their north. In its right hand it held up a bow, and in its left a quiver. Gewey could hardly believe his eyes.
“Elves,” he whispered. “Here in the desert.” For the first time Aaliyah looked surprised and uncertain. “You didn't know?”
“That there were elves here?” She shook her head slowly. “I did not. But I am grateful to see them. Unless I am wrong, that is not a gesture of aggression.” She raised her hand, returning the greeting. “Still, mind what you say. Do not tell them who I am or, more importantly, who you are. If they are like the other elves of this land, being human may be enough to anger them.”
The elf made his way deftly down the dune, slinging the quiver over his back as he descended. He was dressed in white trousers and shirt, and high boots made from a material Gewey had never seen. Like leather in its thickness, but clung like cloth, and was as pliable. At his side hung a long, curved saber attached to a thick tan belt. His short cropped, blond hair was shaved to the skin on either side of his head. His face was obscured by a thin piece of cloth wrapped just below the tip of his nose, and around his forehead, but Gewey could see that the skin around his eyes was pale white.
“Have you ever seen an elf like this?” asked Gewey.
It took a moment for her to answer. “You have more experience with elves than I. I only know those of my own land, and none are like this one.”