Chapter Thirty-Four

The horses slowed to a leisurely gait as they reached the first large cluster of tents that marked the edge of the city. Sand gave way to tall palm trees, white stones and lush grass. The air smelled sweet and slightly spicy. The group brought their horses to a halt, and immediately a cluster of children descended upon them, chattering and looking around excitedly.

Those who had been wounded in the battle were ushered away by elderly, matronly females to tend to their injuries. Some older children hurried forward to lead the horses away after their riders had dismounted. Every Akanep had a scrap of brightly colored fabric tied in their hair, and many of the females sported intricate beaded or braided hairstyles. People rushed every which way carrying baskets of dried meat and cloth and skins of water and pouches of feathers. It was a whirlwind of color and noise and activity.

Seto dismounted and watched for a moment as his horse was led away, dazed by this sudden assault on his senses. The falcon chirped and fluttered down from his shoulder, disappearing in a golden mist. Out of the colored fog rose Samira. She was joined by Asim and Ramla, who were each sporting multiple cuts and abrasions from the skirmish. They seemed not to take notice that they were bleeding, but ignored it completely. Samira, on the other hand, was completely unscathed.

"Asim," Samira said, "You should go to the hospital tent and see if you can be of assistance. I'm going to help cook."

"I'm going on night watch tonight," Ramla told them, grinning toothily. "Hunting out wayward snakes." She winked and left.

"That's our bloodthirsty sister for you," Asim sighed. "Well, I'd better be off." Samira nodded and they both left, melting into the crowd.

Now Seto was alone, and slightly confused as to where to go next.

"Seto!" shouted a familiar voice. Mokuba ran toward him, jumping into his brother's arms. "Are you okay?" he asked earnestly. Seto nodded.

"Wasn't that scary?" he said, lowering his voice and looking at Seto seriously now. "Being in that battle? I mean, they were really bent on killing each other!"

Seto shrugged. "Both of us are okay, and that's what matters," he said, turning away. This awkward silence was broken by the appearance of a flame-colored head belonging to none other than the sparrow girl. She grinned savagely and said to Seto, "Well hello, mister priest. It seems that we are a bunch of luckies, escaping with our life and all." Suzuko then went on to elaborate colorfully on the vices of the "purple-haired fools." It was sort of annoying how she always made Seto want to grin.

Sighing, he scanned his surroundings and saw Azar and her little sister, the girl he had saved not two nights ago, deep in conversation. They were both glancing at him from time to time, and finally the girl dragged her older sister over to where Seto was standing.

Azar was considerably more cheerful than usual, which was a strange sight to see.

"I want to thank you for saving my sister," she said to him in Late Upper Egyptian, looking at him with her strange red eyes. "I am in your debt." With a slight flourish, she pulled a small beaded piece of cloth from where it had been tied in her hair and pressed it into his hand. With a small nod, she walked away, disappearing without a trace.

Liyah gave Seto a warm smile, bowed, and hurried after her sister.

Seto was left with the small piece of beaded cloth in his hand, very confused and lost.

He pocketed it, and promptly forgot about it.

Samira went ahead of the rest of the group, which was slowly filtering into the village. She was excited; she had many friends in this village and was eager to see them again. The tumult of many voices, mutterings, shoutings, could be heard all throughout the village. Horses whinnied, camels snorted, children laughed, cookfires crackled, tents rustled and flags snapped in the breeze.

A steamy aroma wafted toward Samira's nose from the distant kitchen tents. She followed the scent, her mouth watering.

Ishizu crouched in the shadow of a tent. Her eyes glowed slightly red in the darkness. In her hand she clutched the black sphere Vaneth had given her.

Your prey is close, Ishizu. She wanders by like an innocent lamb.

She tensed, ready to spring. The sphere sizzled with pent-up energy. Her senses were oblivious to everything else except the approaching footsteps, the small red glow in her mind that was her prey's body heat. Like a panther preparing to ambush, she bunched up her muscles and bent her knees, eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open.

A shadow passed across the ground. A tall, slim, dark-haired girl was hurrying by, towards a gap between two tents that led to a cobblestone road.

She never made it.

Baring her teeth, Ishizu launched herself from her hiding place, colliding full force, knocking her prey to the ground.

Samira's cry was quickly muffled as Ishizu clamped one hand down over her mouth. The golden-eyed girl struggled frantically, but she was trapped. Grinning wildly, Ishizu raised the black sphere, and it ignited, wild purple flames exploded from it like a bomb. They engulfed the two in a cloud of darkness. The raw dark power found Samira and surrounded her greedily, slamming into her and burrowing underneath her skin, flowing into her mouth and nose, smothering her. The last thing she heard was a hysterical, maniacal cackling before the magic wiped her mind cleaner than a blackboard.