Chapter Four

To the inexperienced eye, the border between the desert and its older, deadlier brother is almost invisible. But to someone like I, who has spent more than fifteen years riding the shifting sands, the border between the desert and the Punja is plain as day and twice as bright. Miss Kaoru, I said, pointing ahead, we are about to enter the Punja.

Kaoru examined the scenery. First, she looked ahead, grimacing at the sight of so much sand; then she looked behind us, seeing only more sand. I don't see how it's different.

It is in the sand, that it is.

Sand is sand. She slipped from her horse to look at the sand closer up. She allowed it to run through her fingers three times. Even from my horse, I could see it, the silver crystals of the Punja sand. These crystals are what make the Punja deadly. They act as a bent glass, catching the light and transforming its heat into something more concentrated, something that can cook the soles of one's feet if one isn't careful.

Kaoru brushed the sand from her fingers. It's the crystals, isn't it?

You are right. I smiled.

How large is the Punja? she asked hesitantly.

I tilted my head thoughtfully. I cannot really say, Miss Kaoru. The Punja waxes and wanes, moves . . . one day a village will be beyond it, the next the Punja will have blown in and devoured it. The land changes very quickly. That is why I offered to guide you. It is difficult to know all the markers and oases if you have not grown up with them.

Kaoru nodded slowly. But you know?

I answered, but I should tell you of the dangers before I take you any further. I said before: it is a dangerous place.

Go on.

The horse chose that moment to be difficult, ruining my serious demeanor. I picked myself up from the sand, ignored Kaoru's laughter, patted the horse. I am sure the reason he is so difficult is merely that he wants more attention. I ought to buy him an apple in the first city we came too. Once I had regained my composure and Kaoru had stopped laughing, I returned to our discussion. There are mirages. Often you will think you see an oasis, but it is not really there. If you go towards it, you will get lost and miss the real oasis. There are simooms, sandstorms which blow sand with enough force to kill you if you do not find shelter. There are cumfa and sandtigers. There borjuni, like those who killed your family. And mine, I thought, but did not say. Also, there are the tribes. Many are friendly, but there are those, like the Hanjii and the Vashni that practice human sacrifice and sometimes cannibalism.

Kaoru did not seem impressed, though that may have been my show of horsemanship. Is that all?

All?

There isn't any magic? she asked.

I shook my head with a patient smile. No, Miss Kaoru, no magic. I don't believe in magic, that I don't. It is all illusion.

Amusement came into her eyes. You're an idiot, Kenshin. You really shouldn't ignore something so powerful.

Now you sound like a shukar, Miss Kaoru. I chuckled. If you believe in magic, it is alright with me.

She sniffed and began to walk off.

Miss Kaoru? Miss Kaoru! What are you doing?

She came to a stop at the border between desert and Punja. She glanced back at me, and I thought she might have winked. Then she drew that frightening sword and plunged it into the sand, where it stood like a burial marker. She dropped to the ground before it, where she sat in silence for several moments.

An uneasy feeling came over me. The sword made me uncomfortable, and watching the flickering runes upon it caused my stomach to turn slightly. No magic, I promised myself mentally, only halfway believing it.

Kaoru rose silently, resheathed her sword, and walked back towards me. I am sorry, Kenshin. I needed to do that. We can go on now.

Miss Kaoru? What was that?

Oh, a Northern custom. I was asking the gods for permission to go forward. She stopped and laughed. I suppose you don't believe in gods, either?

No, Miss Kaoru, I admitted. I don't.



The Punja is very, very hot. It is also dry. Each hour adds to the slow process of baking you like a cake, until you feel like you must die. This is why it is very important to stop often for water and wear a good burnous. Even so, unless you are very careful, you always run out of water much more quickly than you expected to. Kaoru and I were careful, but it still takes a great deal of willpower to stop yourself from drinking up all the water before you must. Kaoru and I managed, in fact much better than I expected to. She was an enduring woman.

After many, many hours in the hot desert sun, I smiled at her in spite of the heat. There is a well not far ahead, Miss Kaoru.



If you will look ahead, you will see a dark line? That is a ridge of rocks to mark and protect the cistern. I pointed to make sure she could see it. Now the water will not taste very good. It is a little brackish, that it is, but it is water and it will help.

We aren't quite out, Kaoru stated.

That is true, but in the Punja it is best not to pass by a well. If nothing else, it is cooler near the oasis, a good place for a rest. I watched her a moment. Miss Kaoru, your nose is turning pink.

Kaoru grimaced and touched the peeling skin. It is a little burned, isn't it?

I considered it a moment. If we are lucky, we may come across an alla plant. A salve of that might help, though I'm hardly a healer.

The sun is not this bright in the North. Kaoru laughed. I suppose this doesn't bother you. The South is your home, so I guess you're used to it.

Home. I laughed the words off. Now, Miss Kaoru, I wander so much, I don't really have a home. I am a sword-dancer, after all.

The circle, Kaoru said quietly. It's home enough.

She was intelligent, I thought. She must have read it somewhere. Yes, Miss Kaoru. I suppose you could say that.



Kaoru and I scrambled over the rocks, leading the horses behind us. It took me several minutes to find the cistern itself. I strained slightly to lift the lid. It was made of iron, and shifting it took effort. I placed it to the side. My horse chose that moment to attempt to eat my hair. Oro! Stop that now!

A bad feeling came over me. Normally, the horse would have been more interested in the water than my hair. Miss Kaoru, I said softly. Do not drink yet. I knelt to study the water. A single dipped finger raised to my lips and I knew my fears were confirmed. I am sorry. The water is bad.

Kaoru nodded her understanding and pulled her horse away from it.

I replaced the lid and marked it to warn other travellers. Bad water can kill you more quickly than no water at all. I would not wish that upon anyone, especially not Miss Kaoru when she had already been through so much.

We watered the horses using some of the water than remained in our botas. I convinced Kaoru to drink as well, but she did so reluctantly and did not drink much. I took several sips as well. Well, there is another oasis near by. We should be able to reach that. Then we will go to the next well as quickly as we can. If that one is fouled, however, we may have to turn back, Miss Kaoru.

she said simply.

We will have no choice, I explained. We cannot go forward without water or we will die. I will not allow you to die.

I have to find my brother, she protested.

If you die, how can you help him?

Kaoru's expression was firm and calm. Kenshin, you can help me get where I am going, or I will go on alone. I have to. Yahiko is my brother. He and I are all that is left of my family. If he is gone, then it is the end. I will be alone. My family is everything. My brother is everything. She paused. You cannot know. You are Southron. Kin mean nothing to you, if you even have any! In the North, life is precious. My brother is precious, and I will find him.

I would have liked to see her North, a place where life is precious. In the South, no one holds anything precious but his own skin. Her brother's life meant more to her than her own, and she understood that to go on without water would be the end of her. It simply did not matter to her. I will help you, I told her. But I will not let you die, I added mentally. I would not have another woman's blood on my hands.