Shahzad took another step into the sand and into the blinding sunlight. Pausing, he glanced around him as he reached for the water skin at his waist. The Thieves and Nadim were beside him, off to his left murmuring amongst themselves, while the Royal Guard remained uneasily behind, lagging as they hauled the supplies. Foot travel was not going very quickly.

He pulled the stopper out of the skin and held it to his mouth, tilting his head back to take a swig of it. It was warm from the hot sun, but at least it was wet, which was what his parched throat needed. He closed the stopper regretfully, wishing for just one more drink. It wasn't to be, though, not if they were going to get home alive.

Home...it seemed a long, long ways away. The palace was a fuzzy image in his mind, like something out of a dream. Those days sitting on the roof, staring at the city skyline with Faiza and Tahir and later, Xavia. It was so long ago now; he...he missed it—not Tahir and Xavia, of course; he'd never miss them, just the feeling of home. It had been a long time since he'd felt that.

He did wonder, though, how they were faring. If their rations were lowering, if the heat was bothering them as much as it was bothering him, if they were even still alive. They could've died by now; it wasn't unlikely with the amount of water they had to be surviving off of. Their throats would get dry first, scratchy and raw, then the hallucinating, stumbling about moaning and mumbling incoherently, and then they'd lie in the desert, dead, no around to hear them take their last breaths.

He stomped his foot forward again, just to keep moving. That was the key, to just keep walking and never ever stop. Tahir and Xavia didn't matter, no matter how tight his throat got when he thought of their deaths or how hard his fists clenched together. He didn't miss them anyway, only Faiza. Lovely, beautiful Faiza, even in death.

She was so far away, too, though. All the memories of her he could conjure into his mind seemed blurred, marred by the miles upon miles, the sweat and the sting of the sand hitting his skin. It was all there was now. There was the sand and the sun and rationing. Even the Sands of Time had become a mere illusory item now, a fantasy, but nothing tangible or real. And now, it took effort just to recall her face.

He laughed, bitter and hard as tears rolled down his cheeks; it didn't matter, no one was close enough to notice. Wasn't it odd, that the last three mile stretch of desert, which looked like every other part of desert, was more familiar to him than the face of his own love? He laughed more, as he felt his throat muscles tightening more and more. He just missed her, he wanted her back! Was that too much to ask, to have someone he cared about not die or turn against him? She wouldn't have ever turned against him; she believed in him.

He choked on his tears, until he caught Nadim glancing at him. He stopped suddenly, standing straighter, forcing himself to blink and swallow and continue forward calmly. Nadim turned back to Jalal again, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was a man, and he was a sultan, not an emotional wreck. He would show that to his men.

He glanced at the Thieves again. They were all talking, Nadim and Jalal laughed together, while he walked alone. His friends, Xavia and Tahir across the desert and the Thieves, right beside him, but still so far away, he'd—he'd driven them all away, so far away—no! They'd left him. It was their fault, theirs. It didn't really matter, though, he realized now. Either way, whatever had happened, they were still gone and not coming back.

It didn't matter. The Sands of Time were all that mattered now, no matter how far off they seemed. He would find them; he had to. It was his only hope for ruling Arabia, for being as great as his father was, for being...worth something, for once. His only chance.

"What is that?" The Thieves' shouting was a welcome distraction from his own mind. He turned his eyes to them and followed their pointing fingers outward through the sand until he saw what they were looking at.

There was a pile of stones only a short distance in front of them, placed in a ring, a perfect circle on the ground. The center was empty, filled only with more sand. The stones were only slightly darker than the sand that surrounded them, and from here seemed almost speckled to him, like the sand. They were just barely visible to his eyes.

The Thieves walked faster now, half-running and half-stumbling to get a closer look. He altered his course towards them, but kept a steady pace. It was likely just another stone monument, full of empty poems and laments, combined with a brief history lesson on the Sands of Time. It would relate warnings and tales of splendor, but nothing useful.

He reached it quickly, however, just moments behind the Thieves. Nadim was sitting on his knees on the ground and hunched over the stones, already trying to decipher the symbols that were etched carefully into each one.

"Well, what is it?" he asked dryly as the Royal Guard slowly began to gather around, dropping their loads of food and water provisions wherever they deemed fit.

"I don't know; it's not like anything I've ever seen before," Nadim replied, his voice rising in excitement. "The symbols are old, ancient, even more so than the ones on the monument before. It could take me some time to decipher them all."

Shahzad frowned. They didn't have some time to spend reading some worthless writing on a couple of slabs of stone. He wasn't going to let what happened with the monument happen again. They'd spent days there, wasting their food and water, while Nadim read the entire thing, and the only useful information they'd gained—which they weren't even positive was true—was that they should go northwest. It was ridiculous.

They walked now, without stopping, to find the Sands of Time, and to keep the desert from unleashing its wrath on them. It was their lot in life. Keeping going was the only way. The desert was a hard master, and it would not wait for them. The heat would get to them; they'd go mad. No, he would not stop this time, like he had before. It was a waste.

"Should we set up camp here, Sir?" Captain Mahmud asked from behind him. Nadim glanced up from the ground as well, to hear his answer. They all stared at him, waiting. He remembered the line in the stand; they'd all stood by him then, and they wanted him to stand with them now, with the decision they'd already made in their minds. He had only to say the words.

No! One chance circumstance didn't make him their puppet. He would not give in to their demands, not ever! This was for their own good anyway, if they wanted to survive. To be a good sultan, a good leader, he had to say no. It was his duty.

"We cannot stay," he said as calmly and evenly as he could manage. "We do not have time to waste our rations as we did at the monument before that told us nothing."

"But, Sha—Sir! This isn't like the monument, not at all!" Nadim said. "It's not a memorial to anything; it couldn't be. Memorials aren't made like this. They would never make one in a ring. Rings were regarded as more sacred than even the most sacred monuments. The Rings of Sand, for example, were sacred. All rings were like that. They're in circles so it signifies never-ending or the everlasting, eternal...but to me, it looks like some sort of device or...something."

"Something?" he asked with sarcasm. Nadim had a tendency to ramble on and on. He just wanted a straight answer about the thing, so they could move on.

"Well, this symbol here, it means...the sea and this one, the mountains, so together, it would mean...far distance, or maybe long way to travel...or, depending on the context, it could mean great conqueror, as well... And next to it is emptiness or space or...I would say door so that would be great conqueror of the door...no, that doesn't make sense, this symbol wouldn't be used with conqueror so it would be—"

"Nadim, for pity's sake, let's just find out what it does, if it really is a device," Jalal spoke then, grinning broadly, and stepped into the middle of the ring of stones.

The sound was nearly deafening. Shahzad took a step back, almost involuntarily. It was a cracking, groaning sound, like the earth was opening up to swallow the stones with Jalal still inside them. There was a light also, bright and glowing gold as the sand surrounding them flew upward, into a sheet around the stones. Jalal raised his eyebrows as the sand started swirling and spiraling around him. Soon it was so thick they couldn't even see him, and the wind that was pushing it all was so strong, it flung them all backward, away from it.

Shahzad was thrown against the ground, staring upward at the whirling column of sand. He had no idea what to do, or if there even was anything to do. They all just stared in amazement at the strange spectacle.

It stayed the same for several moments, loud and roaring with sand flying around it, the noise growing all the while. Eventually it seemed to peak, then die down slowly. The winds weren't quite as high, the sand became thinner, and the noise softer. After a few more seconds, it was over. The stones were exactly as they had been, if perhaps slightly dusted over with a fresh layer of sand.

Jalal, however, was nowhere to be found. His footprints were there, pressed into the sand. The man who had been next to him lifted the chain that had connected them, pulling it towards him away from the ring. There was a clean break where it should have continued onto Jalal. The metal was smooth where it had broken. He dropped the chain again, and it fell to the ground with a slight thud.

"Where did he go?" someone asked incredulously.

"He shouldn't have done that," Nadim said, shaking his head, still staring at the thing. "You don't just walk into things when you don't know what they are, especially when they're rings! Rings are sacred! He should have known that from being around me!"

"But what happened to him? What did it do?" Shahzad asked, turning towards the man.

"It—it—it's a portal," he said slowly, just realizing it. "Of course, it's a portal, what else would it be? I just didn't think they really existed. The mountains and the sea, a long distance and then the door; of course, it's a door that takes you over long distances. I should have thought of that. What was I thinking?"

Shahzad glanced from him to the stones, thinking. A portal that could transport you over long distances. Maybe it could take him close to Tahir and—or the Sands of Time anyhow, Xavia and Tahir were probably close to the Sands of Time if they were still alive. Not that they mattered, but the Sands did. He pursed his lips, then stepped forward, placing both his feet inside.

Everyone stared, eyes wide, then the shouting began. "Sir!" "Your highness!" "Stop!" The guards, the Thieves, they were all screaming at him. "Wait!" Nadim was saying. "You don't know if it works properly..."

Their voices were all lost, swept away in the groaning and howling wind. The sand spiraled around him, as it had for Jalal. He turned around and around in the circle, watching it rise up, forming walls and closing him in. He hoped Nadim was right, and it really was a portal, and he wasn't just going to be smothered. The sand kept its distance, though, staying just outside the stones. Not a speck even touched him.

Before long, it was falling away, making a soft sifting sound against the ground as it dropped. The sun entered his eyes again and there was more sand, but different sand, around him. It seemed almost more vivid than before, a more pure gold, instead of washed out or rusty.

An identical set of stones was around his feet, so closely matched to the others he might have thought he'd never even left. He frowned slightly and stepped outside the circle. Jalal was watching him from a few feet away. The chains dangled from his arms and legs, broken off. "Interesting, isn't it?" he said lightly, in a conversational tone.

Shahzad glanced at him. Interesting was...not quite the word he would have used, though he supposed it was true. "You could say that. Where do you think we are?"

Jalal took a breath and turned his head, looking out towards the horizon. He let out it out in a whistle. "Farther than we were. Deeper into the desert. The sand looks...brighter and the air's thicker, something strange. If I were to guess, I'd say the Sands are out here, somewhere."

Shahzad nodded. "We should keep going from here, then. Maybe it'll make up for the time we lost before and all the horses. Will you see if you can go back that way and tell everyone else to come?"

Jalal watched him for a moment, then nodded. "It will be difficult to drag Nadim away, though," he said with a slight smile. "He'll be kicking and screaming, wanting to decipher every last symbol on each and every one of those stones."

Shahzad laughed. "I know, but drag him anyways. I'm not going to leave him there."

Jalal nodded with an amused smile and stepped back into the circle. Almost immediately the sand started flying up and swirling. "Looks like it works!" he shouted over the wind. Then he was gone.

Shahzad stared at the stones a few more minutes, then turned away again, surveying the new surroundings. Dunes and dunes, in all directions. He smiled slightly. Well, that was his desert, always the same. He wouldn't have it any other way. He paused suddenly, staring at the ground. He dropped to his knees on the sand, bending down over it to get a closer look. He followed with his eyes off into the distance. There were tracks, a trail out far into the distance; a horse had galloped here. They couldn't be far ahead.

Tahir heard the whoosh of the cloth Xavia was spreading out, as the wind caught in it, attempting to carry it away. She set it down resolutely and walked around it. He could tell, from the direction of her footsteps, that she stopped at each corner to fix it flat against the ground.

"See, it'll be just like a picnic," she said, coming up along side him now. Her breath was warm on his face, though he couldn't see her at the moment.

"Actually, I don't see," he said dryly as another gust of wind blew the sand up and into his face. He dusted it away with the back of his hand, or at least tried to, though much of it still stuck to the sweat. The wind was beginning to concern him. He didn't think there'd be a sand storm, but if there was, it wasn't going to go well for them.

"Well, hear then," Xavia replied. "Come on," she grabbed his arm and he could see her again, bright in the darkness, dragging him over and onto the ground with her. He stumbled and fell, luckily onto the cloth she had laid out for them.

"Now," she started like it was a grand announcement, in a stately tone, "we both get to eat one...part of a dried apricot." She grabbed his larger hand with her smaller one, pushing the apricot piece into his hand and reaching down again, presumably getting one for herself. Her hand was calloused, the skin hardened on the surface. It hadn't been, the first time he'd touched it, however long ago it'd been. He wondered if she minded it or the burn that still had to be red on her forearm, marking her as a criminal. If she did, she never mentioned it.

He held the apricot, quite smaller than the palm of his hand, and their one meal for the day. He glanced at Xavia. She seemed none the worse for the lack of food and, smiling at him, took a dainty bite out of her piece, slowly chewing it as if it were the most delicious thing in the world. Her optimism today was almost unbelievable, considering their circumstance.

She was intoxicating, though, and the mood was spreading to him, as he laughed at her antics. "And we're sitting down for this?" he asked her, plopping the piece whole into his mouth at once. He chewed for a moment, tasting the fruity, sweet flavor, before swallowing.

"It's the principal of the thing," Xavia explained, taking another tiny bite out of her fruit. "We're having a nice meal together, however small that nice meal may be. And we're enjoying the sunshine." She put the rest of the apricot in her mouth and leaned back on her palms, tilting her head back towards the sky. "It's a lovely day in the desert...just like everyday, actually, but lovely all the same, and I mean to enjoy it. The sky is blue, the sun is shining, and the sand is...flying at us, but also more gold and prettier than I've seen it before. We'd kill for days like this at home in the summer, my sisters and I."

Tahir nodded, watching her. She seemed to think for a few moments with a far away look in her eyes, as she bit her lip slightly. It was odd thinking of her home and how very different everything was there, the climate in particular. "Everyday is the same here. I guess we start to take it for granted, that the sun will shine. When you have something all the time, you start to forget that you might not. I did miss it, when I was in your country."

She smiled slightly, still looking up dreamily at the sky. After a moment, she looked at him again, nodding. "Yes, the sun is nice here, even if it is too hot. I do miss the water, though. I'm afraid we take that for granted at home." She laughed slightly, then sighed. "I'm so thirsty here, all the time; it feels like my throat is dry and cracking."

"Well, we haven't had our water yet today," Tahir said, getting to his feet. "Let's drink it." He brushed off some of the sand that had blown onto him while they were sitting and stepped over to the horse, feet sinking into the loose sand as he went. He lifted his hand and felt along the smooth, sleek coat of their horse. It was hot—too hot, really, but he'd given the horse water this morning, and he couldn't afford to give it any more.

He reached into the saddlebag, feeling for the water skins. The first one he picked up was empty; he could tell without opening it. The weight was that of only the skin, no water inside it. The second was the same. Finally, he found the third. Not empty. But it was light—too light. There couldn't be more than a few swallow-fulls left inside. He shook it slightly, trying to measure just how much there was. Not enough, that was for sure. Jiggling it hardly made a difference.

He glanced at Xavia, still sitting patiently, waiting for him. Unless they reached the other monument by tomorrow, it wouldn't go well for them. And then there was getting home...

She was glancing at him now. He opened the stopper and raised it to his lips, tilting his head back slightly, but not enough for any of it to come out. If one of them didn't make it, he would make sure that it wasn't her. He wasn't going to watch her get dehydrated and go mad, and then die with nothing he could do for her, even if it meant his own life.

Besides, they'd have a better chance of getting to the monument if just one of them was drinking. The way he saw it, they would get there in three or four days. If everything went right, he wouldn't be dead then, just very sick. But the point was, he'd be well enough so they'd both be there to turn the key and spill the Sands. It would be alright.

He closed the stopper again, his throat still dry and parched, and tossed the skin to her. "Don't drink much, there's hardly any left. After it's gone, there's nothing else."

Her eyes widened slightly. She seemed to pale, even in the bright sunlight. "Well, are you sure we shouldn't save it, I mean, maybe if we only took a drink every other day, or—"

"Just take a drink," he interrupted, cutting into her sentence. He didn't want her questioning him, he wasn't going to tell her what he was doing. She'd just worry about him or refuse to drink if he wasn't, and he didn't need that now. After the dream...he was already tense enough about anything happening to her, he didn't need to be worried about her getting dehydrated, too.

She was looking at him worriedly, and he realized he'd sounded rather harsh, almost yelling when he cut into her sentence. She was bound to think something was wrong with him. He didn't want her guessing about it. "I'm sorry," he said, "just...have a drink. It'll be fine."

She nodded slightly and took out the stopper, taking a short drink before throwing it back to him. Catching it, he put it back, carefully placing it in the saddlebag. It was their most important possession now. Without, it they had no chance. With it, they still had very little chance, but that was better than nothing.

"We should get going," he said.

She nodded and stood up, gathering the cloth in her arms and putting it in the saddlebag. He mounted and helped her up, and they were off again.

I happened to not have to do anything in one of my classes, so I wrote almost half of this chapter. It was exciting. Did you like it? Did Shahzad seem a bit too pity-party-ish in the beginning? What did you think of the portals? Will Xavia and Tahir survive? I hope it was interesting, we're kind of at an aimless wandering section in the story, which makes it kind of difficult to write, but interesting things will be happening very soon, I promise. Now you know you want to review to answer my questions. :D