Jim wished that he hadn't even seen the city, because having that as a reference point in the ocean of sand and heat only made him more acutely aware of how slowly he was going. It seemed that the closer he flew, the further away the faint silhouette on the horizon became.
Of course, he would be going faster if he wasn't burdened down with the limp body in his arms.
After nearly 24 hours out of the water, Namor didn't seem all that princely. His skin was turning gray and he was drifting in and out of consciousness. For a while he had tried to help with the flying, but Jim had to tell him to stop exhausting himself.
"I got this," he had said. "Don't worry."
"Least you could do," Namor had mumbled, "after you got us captured like that."
Jim had tried, but failed, to suppress a tired smile.
It was lucky that he glanced down at his passenger at that moment, because otherwise he wouldn't have seen the dull flicker in the sand, surrounded by a few brown ruins. He descended rapidly, and soon confirmed that it wasn't just a mirage; there was an oasis beneath them.
As soon as he was low enough, he dropped Namor face down into the shallow pool, only about eight or nine feet wide at its broadest point. He let his flames fade and landed gracelessly into the sand. Once his feet touched the ground, he gave into exhaustion and slumped against the crumbling remains of a wall.
The Atlantean was still for a moment, and then stirred. He moved his arms weakly in the water, before ducking down so his entire body was submerged. It was nearly five minutes before he burst back up to the surface, any sign of his previous dehydration gone. He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face, then looked up at Jim.
"Took you long enough," he said curtly.
"I think you're getting too fond of this surface food," Jim shot back. "You weigh a ton."
"At least I didn't fall right into a German trap."
"At least I wasn't stupid enough to try a full frontal charge, when we coulda have easily snuck out." He interrupted Namor before he could continue the volley of insults. "Now hurry up and finish soaking. We've got to get to Cap and the others in time to warn them about that new tank division coming in from the north."
Namor nodded. When it came to the opportunity to kick around Germans, everything else took a backseat. He briefly ducked down under the water, then came up again, looking over at Jim.
"Aren't you going to drink?"
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Android, remember?"
"Ah, yes." Namor seemed to hesitate a moment, lazily treading water. "Then," he added, "I suppose I can afford to say thank you."
He kicked back underneath again, and didn't come back up. Jim frowned at the ripples on the water's surface, trying to parse exactly what the Atlantean had meant.
He quickly gave up on the effort. Who could ever understand what the overstuffed fishstick was saying anyway? He settled back against the wall, shut his eyes and listened as his artificial heartbeat slowed.