The rewrite marches on! Welcome to Chapter 3, please enjoy.
CHAPTER 3— THE SPIRITS' FURNACE
The sun had set beyond the sand dunes in the west. The remaining fiery glow reminded Kuei uncomfortably of the battle that had ravaged the Oasis, but he ignored that thought; he needed to be focused and alert for the task ahead. The fading rays of sunlight silhouetted the sand sailer that was waiting to depart as Kuei approached it.
The two Sandbenders were already aboard; they stood on the navigator's platform and looked out across the desert with their backs to him, dusky shapes against the orange sunset. Zafirah swept an arm out in a graceful arc to point out something in the distance, and Basam nodded in agreement to whatever words passed between them.
As Kuei reached them with Bosco at his side, the Sandbenders turned to face him. Zafirah hopped down from the platform, landing easily on the soft sand, and strode over to him. He spied a dagger from the shop strapped to her lower leg, the brass decorations on its sheath glinting in the light.
She clucked her tongue, shaking her head as her eyes landed on his haphazardly-wrapped headscarves. Zafirah and Basam had plenty of last-minute tasks that had needed their attention, so Kuei had tried to take care of his head coverings and scarf on his own. After watching her wrap his arms, he'd felt fairly confident that he could figure out the headscarves. Her grimace at his handiwork confirmed that he hadn't quite gotten the technique right.
"Here, take that off for a second," she said, digging through one of her pockets. He pulled the scarves down and she handed him a small eye-mask with slitted eyes. "You're gonna need this visor. Keep this on at all times while the sailer's moving, got that? The last thing you want is sand in your eyes, especially if we run into a storm. It's not gonna be fun wearing it over that black eye, but it's better than going blind."
"O-oh… right," Kuei agreed, blanching at the thought. He put the visor in place over his eyes, wincing as it touched his bruise. Once he'd tied the strings behind his head, Zafirah got to work fixing his headscarves.
Kuei lowered his head so she could reach more easily, and did his best to stand patiently while she worked. He wondered if most Sandbenders were prone to such casual invasions of personal space, or if it was a habit unique to this particular one. He didn't necessarily find it objectionable—it was just odd. No one in Ba Sing Se would dare touch the Earth King without permission. He thought back to the Avatar's group and the way they would embrace in comfort or solidarity, or place reassuring hands on one another's shoulders; he recalled Toph's arm punches (and the ensuing bruises), and the way the Water Tribesmen would clasp each other's forearms in greeting. Clearly, this kind of casual contact was something Kuei would just have to accustom himself to.
"We're setting a course for Si Wong Rock," Zafirah explained as she rearranged the head coverings. "That's where the tribes meet whenever there's big trouble. We'll have a clear view for miles around from the top of the rock. We might spot one of the tribes from up there, so we can sail out to meet 'em. Might take a couple days to track anyone down, though."
"It sounds as though these other tribes prefer not to be found too easily," he commented.
"Good guess," she remarked. She finished fixing his headscarves and stepped back, her work done, and lifted her thickly-wrapped right hand in a thumbs-up. Kuei hesitantly returned the unfamiliar gesture, trying to ignore the claustrophobic feel of the cloth surrounding his head. The fresh coating of salve he'd applied to his black eye kept it from stinging too badly where the visor pressed lightly against the bruise.
Zafirah stared out into the sunset. "Si Wong Rock is the heart of the desert. It's in a place we call the Spirits' Furnace. It's the hottest and harshest part of the deep desert, so be ready," she warned him. Kuei felt a sudden chill and clenched his fists. He wasn't going to let the dangers ahead get the better of him. Basam whistled from his place on the platform and Zafirah turned, catching the spyglass that he tossed to her. She handed it to Kuei.
"The compass is up there, and so's the map," she explained. "Like I said before, all you gotta do is read the headings and call 'em out. All right?" Kuei grasped the spyglass and nodded determinedly. He had to get this right. He wasn't going to let these two down. Bosco nudged his nose against Zafirah's hand, feeling left out. Zafirah sighed resignedly and gingerly patted the bear's furry head. "There, there," she muttered.
"C'mon!" Basam called from the sailer. "We got us a desert to cross." Kuei followed Zafirah to the sailer, where she boosted herself up to the lower platform on a pillar of sand. Basam leaped down with a solid thud to join them on the platform and stretched a hand down to Kuei. Deciding that now was not the time for pride, Kuei took the other man's offered assistance and let Basam haul him up.
"Now the real question is, where do we put Furball there?" Zafirah mused, narrowing her eyes at Bosco, still sitting on the ground.
"He oughta go up on the navigator's post. The sailer would be off-balance any other way," Basam pointed out. Zafirah looked at Bosco, and then up at the topmost platform, and the distance between the two.
"I was afraid you'd say that," she muttered.
"He's never been very good at climbing, unfortunately," Kuei said apologetically. Sokka's bear lessons hadn't really had much of an effect on Bosco, regrettably.
"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with," Zafirah groused. She and Basam raised the sand under Bosco, trying to hoist him up— but he just sank into the sand till he was buried up to his neck in it. They let the sand drop and Bosco thudded down with it; the bear gurgled happily and bounced on his forepaws, like it was a game. Kuei nearly laughed and quickly covered it with a cough. This really wasn't the time to be amused by his pet's antics.
The Sandbenders gave it another shot, gathering even more sand under the bear. Bosco steadily rose into the air until he was nearly at the platform. With Kuei's urging, the bear clambered off the sand and onto the wooden platform. Zafirah and Basam both heaved a sigh of relief and slumped against each other, letting the sand fall again. Bosco whined, and Kuei gave him a reassuring scratch behind the ears. Getting Bosco up to the navigator's perch proved to be far easier, with Kuei using a scrap of dried meat as bait to lure the bear into climbing up. At last, he and Kuei were both at their post.
The Sandbenders gave Kuei a moment to familiarize himself with his map and compass as they made a few last preparations to the sand sailer. He studied both intently, doing his best to remember what he'd read about navigation in the royal library.
The two siblings took their spots on the lower platforms to the sides of the navigator's post, and they were as ready to leave as they'd ever be. The Sandbenders took firmly rooted stances, feet planted apart and knees bent, and lifted their arms with their fingers outstretched. Moving as one, the siblings swept their arms back and thrust them forward, once, twice, three times. A gust of sand whirled up behind the sail hanging slack between the double hulls, growing and pulsing. The yellow cloth billowed and snapped outward when the swirling sand became a tornado, pulling its lines taut, and the sailer sprang to life. Kuei gasped and nearly lost his balance as the little wooden vessel jumped forward. He couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation as he glanced back at the oasis, already shrinking in their wake—there he was, setting out for destinations unknown across the dunes of the perilous Si Wong Desert! If only their voyage hadn't started under such tragic circumstances, it would have been the adventure he'd always dreamed of.
Zafirah fell into a steady rhythm as the dunes rolled past: arms casting forward, swinging back, over and over again. The rhythm was soothingly familiar in the madness of the past night, although their sailer felt sluggish under the added bulk of Kuei's damned pet. A lion turtle'd weigh less, she thought peevishly. The owner of said slobbery beast perched above her with his sights aimed at the horizon, checking the map and compass just as she'd told him to.
Cast forward, swing back, cast forward.
The sand around them shone a pale, silvery grey as the moon shone down on them.
Cast forward, swing back, cast forward.
The sky darkened into blue-black, save for the silver light of a crescent moon squinting down at them. Kuei checked the compass bound to the front of his post and called out a new course heading, just like they'd told him to. The man was a fast learner.
Cast forward, swing back, and call a halt. She wasn't tired yet and she knew Basam wasn't either, but they needed food and water, tired or not. Wouldn't do to push themselves too far. They took their brief rest in silence and moved on quickly.
Kuei had wondered how difficult it might be to navigate, but it proved much simpler than he'd expected. He caught on quickly enough, and the most challenging part turned out to be keeping his balance on the sailer. He'd never been to sea, but he wondered if it felt like this. The sailer rocked and swayed as it crested each dune and cruised across uneven sand. Eventually, he started to get used to that as well. The Water Tribesmen at the camp in Chameleon Bay had referred to getting one's "sea legs"; he wondered if this could be called "desert legs" instead.
The first leg of the trip went smoothly enough. The trio sailed through the night until the faint light of dawn began to brighten the eastern sky. The Sandbenders lowered their arms, sinking the sand-tornado back into the earth, and the sailer coasted to a stop. With the sailer turned sideways to block the oncoming brutality of the day's heat, the three of them lashed down the corners of the sail, stretching it tight between the hulls and the navigator's post so that it became a shelter against the sun. They retrieved some food and necessities from their supplies, coaxed Bosco down from the sailer platform (an even more trying task than getting him up there to begin with) and retreated to the shade of their makeshift tent. The trio sat in a huddled circle, while Bosco curled up behind his master, and they tucked into their rations.
"So what's it like living in Ba Sing Se?" Basam asked suddenly, helping himself to a second portion of the dried fruit and pig-chicken jerky that comprised their dinner. Kuei paused with a strip of dried meat halfway to his mouth and glanced at the Sandbender.
Zafirah glanced at the two of them, but didn't chime in. She took another strip of jerky and looked expectantly at him, as did Basam. Once again, he wondered how much he ought to tell them.
"I was a student," he began slowly, "I had just graduated from the University of Ba Sing Se when the coup happened." He'd had plenty of tutors from the University, so it wasn't entirely untrue.
"Student, huh? Did you ever take any classes with, uh, now what was his name…" She drummed her fingers against her knee. "Zei! There we go. Professor Zei, 'head of Anthropology and expert on exotic cultures'." She rolled her eyes.
"Uh, no, that… that wasn't my field of study," Kuei said quickly. That name was so familiar… where had he heard it before? "You didn't get along well with him, I assume?"
"What I didn't get along with was the notion of bein' an 'exotic culture'," she replied with an annoyed snort.
"He had a bad habit of talking to us all like we were slow in the head," Basam explained, tapping the side of his head. "He'd show up every couple of months to make 'expeditions' searching for some Spirit Library, didn't even know for sure if it existed or not!"
Of course, that was it! Aang and his friends had mentioned a Professor Zei. It was at that same Spirit Library that they'd found information about the solar eclipse. He took a hasty sip of his allotted water to cover his surprise.
"And he'd wander off into the open desert to hunt for the damned thing, and we tried tellin' him it was dangerous—" Zafirah added in.
"—But he brushed us off every time, like he knew our desert better than us—" Basam continued.
"He was the 'expert' after all, hah!" Zafirah snorted.
"He'd drag his sorry behind back to the oasis a few days later, half-dead from thirst and the heat—no luck on the library, of course," Basam added. "Then he'd plop himself down at the bar and hit the sake a little too hard, and he'd get going on a rant about 'those nearsighted, narrow-minded ignoramuses who dare call themselves scholars' back at the University…"
Kuei had to laugh at Basam's impersonation of the professor. "He sounds like quite the character, this professor," he remarked.
"Yeah. He's annoying and kinda insulting, but I guess he's harmless. Except to himself, maybe," Zafirah jibed. Then she paused, head tilted as she considered it, and added, "Come to think of it, we never did see him again after he went out there with the Avatar's gang, did we?"
"Huh, I guess not," Basam mused. "He wasn't with 'em when we found them at Si Wong Rock. No one at the Oasis mentioned him comin' back either."
An awkward silence fell, broken after a moment by Bosco whining slightly. Basam coughed and bit into the strip of jerky still in his hand. Oh, now Kuei remembered; one of the Avatar's friends had mentioned it. Zei had chosen to remain in the library when the Knowledge Spirit had sunken it… he was likely dead by now.
"Anyway, we should get some rest," Zafirah said. "Still got a lot of distance to cover and a lot to be done when we get there."
They settled in to sleep soon after that, with Zafirah and Basam huddled at one end of the makeshift tent and Kuei at the other, and Bosco nestled between him and them. It didn't seem intentional that they'd separated themselves like that, yet it had happened anyway. The light mood during dinner had passed, and the solemnity that had accompanied their departure from the Oasis hung heavily in the air as Kuei drifted off.
Two days later…
Zafirah's arms ached every time she swung them back and forth. Her thighs and calves burned in her Bending stance. Her head throbbed from constant concentration. She was about ready to Bend this sailer right into the nearest sand dune.
Normally, a sand sailer crew could make the trip to Si Wong Rock in a day and a half if they were really hauling it. Two days was the usual time it took. That was with a full crew, of course, who could take turns propelling the glider. With just the two of them, they were still a day's journey out. To make matters worse, they were entering the Spirits' Furnace now. The dunes had flattened out into the vast plains that surrounded Si Wong Rock. It was only going to get hotter from there on out.
When they finally halted a few hours after sunrise, Zafirah barely had the energy to climb down from her platform. She flopped backwards onto the sand with a groan, landing spread-eagled with a heavy thump.
"Good night," she proclaimed, draping her arm across her forehead. "I'm done." She heard another thud and peeked out from beneath her arm. Basam had jumped down from his post and shuffled over to join her, plopping facedown on the ground.
A shadow fell across her as Kuei leaned over them. "You both look exhausted," he remarked, sounding concerned.
"You're not an Earthbender, are you?" Basam guessed. "It's not easy, Bending for hours like that."
Kuei stayed silent for a moment, then he said, "If you'd like, I could try to set up the tent myself. I'm sure I can recall all of the steps involved. That way, the two of you can just rest."
Zafirah peered out from under her arm again, squinting up at him. He was studying the sailer intently, resting one elbow on his fist as he rubbed his chin contemplatively with his other hand. Her first instinct was skepticism, but at that point, she was too tired to argue. If he messed up, she and Basam would just fix it. Besides, he had helped them set up and break down their camp the past two days, and he'd done well enough with it.
"All right, thanks," she mumbled from beneath her arm, waving her other hand carelessly.
"Excellent! Now, let's see here…" Kuei said, and Zafirah heard his footsteps crunching away from them on the sand. She'd stay alert, keep an ear out for any signs that he might be struggling with the task. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience with sand sailers, the last thing they needed was damage to their rig. But her eyelids were so heavy, and she could feel the knots in her muscles unwinding as the heat from the sand and the sun seeped into her bones…
The next thing she knew, Basam was nudging her arm with his toes. "Wakey wakey, time to wake up so we can eat and go right back to sleep!" he said cheerfully.
She sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her wrapped-up hands. "He got the tent set up?" she asked around a yawn.
"Yeah! Did a pretty decent job, too," Basam told her. Zafirah stood up and walked around to the front of the sailer where Kuei stood, sweating profusely but smiling proudly and crossing his arms. She yanked off her visor and stared at the tent, where the sailcloth was stretched tight and the ropes pulled taut and staked down, just like they were supposed to be. It wasn't quite as neatly done as usual, but it was certainly good enough. He really had been paying attention when he'd helped them do it. She felt a slight pang of guilt at her earlier doubts, but shrugged the feeling off. They hadn't been unreasonable doubts, right?
"You, uh, you did good. Thanks for helping," she remarked, still surprised.
"You're welcome," Kuei replied, just a little smugly. Ordinarily she might've been annoyed, but he'd kind of earned it. He had just proved her wrong, after all, and it wasn't often that an outsider could make that claim.
They ate their dinner quietly. As she chewed, Zafirah glanced at Kuei from the corner of her eye. Maybe it hadn't been a terrible idea to bring him along. It was possible that maybe she was being slightly too hard on him. He was doing pretty well for someone who had never been to the desert before. He hadn't even complained once about the heat, and he had picked up his navigational duties quickly enough. As far as she could tell, he had nothing to gain from being out here with them. And even if he did have some kind of selfish motive, what could he do in the middle of the desert? If anything, he'd put himself at a massive disadvantage by going with them. He'd be at their mercy if they had a mind to hurt him, unless he had some secret fighting skills that he'd hidden very, very well.
So, if Kuei had nothing to gain and everything to lose by following them into the desert, then that only left one option: he really was helping them because he wanted to. And while it would be nice to have one less thing to worry about, it didn't actually make her any less uneasy. Zafirah had entertained the possibility back at the Oasis, and now there was even more proof to it. She snuck another sideways glance at Kuei; he bit into a particularly thick piece of jerky and gnawed on it with so much effort that he winced and gingerly rubbed his black eye.
Yeah, this doofus isn't plotting anything, there's no way, Zafirah decided. Which left her with the alarming fact that this weird tourist genuinely wanted to help them. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that.
They'd been sailing across the desert for days now, but as Kuei lay there beneath the sand sailer, it was then that the reality of the situation seemed to fully sink in. The airy marble halls and clean silk clothes of the royal palace felt like they existed in a different lifetime. It hadn't even been two weeks since he'd left Ba Sing Se, but it already felt like a distant memory. The soft sand beneath his back, the rough wooden planks of the sailer above his head, the quiet breathing of the Sandbender twins close by, Bosco's furry bulk curled up beside him… he was so keenly aware of it all, suddenly. After years of reading about young men who went off on epic quests and legendary journeys, now it was actually happening to him.
Of course, this wasn't some old legend. His throat was constantly parched and he was always hungry— the food and water rations were never enough to fully satisfy. He was sticky and itchy from the dried sweat caked onto his skin. But he wasn't going to complain. He had volunteered for this and he'd known that it would be hard. And of course, the difficulty for him was nothing compared to what the Sandbender twins had to endure. That was why he'd offered to set up the tent by himself— not being an Earthbender, it was all he could do to make himself useful. It wasn't as if he could help them power the sailer.
And speaking of the tent that they now slept under… Kuei had seen the shock on Zafirah's face. She hadn't really believed that he'd be able to raise the tent on his own. Perhaps she'd expected him to do it wrong, or give up and ask for help. Then again, the fact that she'd been surprised wasn't really a surprise itself. There was no denying that she'd been suspicious and even a little derisive towards him from the start— and yet she'd also taken him into her home, shared a meal and a friendly conversation, and even joked around with him a bit. They had even shared a moment or two of solidarity in the wake of the massacre.
It was only when he'd offered his assistance as a navigator at the Oasis that she'd been truly hostile. You sure are helpful, huh, she'd snapped. He wasn't entirely sure what ulterior motives she thought he might have, but she obviously had doubts about him. The Oasis did have a reputation for attracting a particularly unsavory clientele, so it wasn't hard to imagine that she might have dealt with some disreputable characters over the years.
He'd never had true friends before, not once in his entire life— aside from Bosco, of course. Long Feng had kept him carefully isolated, and although the Avatar and his friends were wise and kind beyond their years, they were still so young. That night at the Oasis, sitting with Zafirah and Basam, it was the first time since before Aang's arrival in Ba Sing Se that he'd felt truly at ease. Kuei still didn't know why Zafirah had opened her home and hearth to him, but the camaraderie that had come with it… that had felt so very real.
Granted, his presence on this voyage with them was born of necessity, but they hadn't exactly been treating him coldly— Basam had been friendly and conversational since their departure, and even Zafirah had given up her harsh edge, though she remained distant. Perhaps she wouldn't fully trust him until he had left the desert without incident. He knew he'd probably never see them again after this was over… and yet, he couldn't stop remembering that feeling of companionship, that warmth. Was that, too, born of necessity? He shifted uncomfortably on the sand. He didn't want to believe that it was true; it would be nice, he thought, to have friends like them.
The winds had picked up while they were asleep that day, sweeping across the dunes from the southwest. Basam peered out into the sunset-lit desert, shielding his eyes against the grains of sand flying on the breeze. This weather had 'problem' written all over it.
"Not a good sign," he muttered to Zafirah as they repacked the sailer.
"Yeah, no kidding," Zafirah whispered back. "Think we're headed for trouble?"
"Could be. Probably, with the way things're going for us lately. Let's not scare the tourist just yet, though," Basam remarked dryly. Kuei seemed like a decent enough guy, fairly level-headed, although unusually helpful for an outsider, but Basam reckoned that the news of a possible sandstorm might ruffle a few of his feathers.
"We'll keep this between us for now," Zafirah agreed. They glanced over at Kuei, who waved back at them before turning his attention to coaxing Bosco up to his spot. "Spirits and ancestors," Zafirah groaned. "What a mess this is."
"What, Kuei being here? You were the one that agreed to let him tag along and help out," Basam said, confused.
"No, not that— I mean, that too. It's kinda weird having some random tourist along for the haul," she muttered, then sighed and added quietly, "But it's… everything. Everything is a mess."
Basam clasped his hands behind his head and shrugged. "Hey, it could probably be worse."
"How? How could this possibly be worse?" she demanded.
"Gimme a minute, I'm sure I'll think of something," he answered wryly.
"Thanks, that's helpful," Zafirah grumbled. But the corner of her mouth ticked upward slightly. She put her visor on and fixed her headscarves into place.
"Sure thing, sister," he said, shooting her a crooked grin. Well, he couldn't just let his twin mope, could he? Even if he was hurting just as bad as she was. He thought about those from the Janan tribe that had gone to live in the deep desert, and his heart ached to see them again. He could only hope it wouldn't take long to track them down. Seeing their faces, safe and sound, would make all the difference in the world.
When Basam climbed up to his spot on the sailer's right-hand side, Kuei and Bosco were already up at the navigator's post. Kuei had a hand lifted to shield his eyes and was scanning the desert ahead of the sailer.
"It certainly is flat out here," he remarked. "Quite a change from the dunes we've been crossing."
"We're in the Spirits' Furnace now," Basam explained. "This is the deep desert. You know the part of the map that they don't fill in? You're in it. We're out in the wild now, buddy."
Kuei's hand faltered, dropping to his side. "Oh," he said.
"Scared?" Basam jibed lightly. Kuei shook his head quickly and hastened to adjust his headscarves.
"No, no," he insisted. Basam chuckled dryly and took up a Bending stance, waiting for the signal from Zafirah. Kuei was an odd guy, but he'd had worse company on a sand sailer.
The winds were getting stronger still. As they sailed on, deeper into the desert, Basam had a feeling that they were about to find out how much worse things could be.
After sailing through the night, Si Wong Rock appeared on the horizon at dawn the following day. The ache in Basam's muscles seemed to get fainter at the sight of it, pushed back by a surge of anticipation. Even though he was sweltering in the sun's heat already, his energy felt renewed.
"Short rest today! Tell Zafirah!" Basam yelled up to Kuei. He nodded down to him, then turned and shouted over to Zafirah. The winds were with them, catching their sail and pushing them forward. They'd take a break during the hottest hours of the day to rest, but it'd be a waste of time to halt for the entire day. Sleep would wait till they arrived. If they hauled hard, maybe they could make it to Si Wong Rock before these winds turned into a storm. Better yet, maybe the winds would die down and the storm would miss them entirely. It didn't seem likely, but he could dream.
They took a short break in the middle of the day. There wasn't much conversation— Basam and his sister ate their lunch quickly, their eyes fixed on Si Wong Rock. Kuei stayed quiet as well, and even his pet kept silent. Maybe they could feel the tension in the air.
Basam couldn't keep his eyes off the towering rock. It seemed to grab his peripheral vision, even when he wasn't looking directly at it. He couldn't stop thinking of what was to come when they got there. They'd reach the rock soon enough, and from there they could pass on the warning to any other tribes they might be able to find. And then… well, there'd probably be another attack from the Fire Nation before too long. With airships on their side, it would be easy to spot the deep-desert tribes from above. The Sandbenders would fight back, of course. There was no way they'd sit around and wait for defeat. But how much could they actually do against machines like those? How long could they really hold out against the Fire Nation's endless supply of soldiers? It wasn't like the Fire Nation would just give up, even if they did resist. Maybe they'd all wind up with the rest of the Janan tribe, in chains somewhere, doing whatever it was that the Fire Nation's laborers did.
Then again, maybe it'd all work out somehow. It didn't seem terribly likely, but Basam had never been known for his pessimism. Maybe they could evade the Fire Nation's troops somehow, maybe they could outlast the army. They'd outlasted the war for this long, anyway.
They set off again after a couple of hours, as the sun started to move west across the sky. By the time sunset approached, Si Wong Rock loomed before them, almost within reach. Zafirah's spirits lifted and she pushed even harder, making the sand tornado swell. She felt Basam pick up her pace on the other side. The strong winds howling behind them drove the sailer faster still and Zafirah's pulse hammered. They were almost there! After days and days of hard hauling and endlessly Sandbending, they could finally rest a little while they scouted for the other tribes from the rock's plateau.
The winds tore at her scarves though, and whipped at her back. The roar from the winds kept getting louder. They were struggling to keep the sailer on course already. These were bad conditions. Zafirah took a deep breath and focused all her energy on keeping the sailer moving. It'd be a close call— could they make it to Si Wong Rock before these winds became a storm?
The dark bulk of the rock grew bigger and bigger before them as the sailer flew across the sand. They were so close to shelter, if they could just…!
"Za-Zafirah? Basam?!" Kuei shouted down, voice shaking. "Behind us!"
She glanced back over her shoulder and her blood ran cold. "Oh, Spirits, no… not now!" she gasped. Luck wasn't on their side, after all— a churning, roiling sandstorm thundered towards them. This one was a monster: it towered almost as high as Si Wong Rock itself, and its seething front stretched for miles across the plains of the Furnace. Lightning crackled through its upper reaches. She could already feel grains of sand stinging the uncovered parts of her face as the storm's furious winds lashed at their sailer.
The sailer lurched forward as the sand tornado surged between the hulls. The lurch shook Zafirah from her dread and she tore her eyes off the storm. Basam had picked up the pace on his side and she threw herself into her Bending to match him. Si Wong Rock was dead ahead— they had to reach the leeward side before the storm caught them!
Zafirah's hands shook as they pushed the sailer faster and faster. Her blood thrummed with terror, her pulse pounding and stomach churning. The sailer rocked as the winds grabbed it, and she clenched her teeth. They were so close now, if they could just make it a little further!
Kuei held tight to the rails on either side of his post, and Bosco huddled behind him. The sailer shuddered and bounced under his feet, but he knew he'd be as good as dead if he lost his balance and fell off. The roar of the sandstorm drowned out all else, even the hammering of his own heartbeat in his ears. The raw fear that shook him to his bones now was different than what he'd felt at the Oasis, facing that soldier— soldiers were human, and they could be stopped. They could be fought. This thundering behemoth behind them couldn't be stopped, or distracted, or diverted, and all he wanted was to hide from it.
The storm gained on them and even though the sailer raced across the sand, Si Wong Rock was still so far ahead! Surely there was no way they could get there in time. The storm would devour them before they could even get close! His knuckles popped as he gripped the rails tighter still.
Zafirah and Basam pushed the sailer even faster— she'd never imagined a team of just two Sandbenders could even haul this fast. Si Wong Rock loomed bigger and bigger in front of them, closer and closer. We can make it! she thought urgently. All grace and technique had gone from her Sandbending by now; she was shaking too hard to maintain any kind of form. She whipped the sand tornado into a whirling frenzy; it would get unstable soon, she knew that, but what other choice was there? A full sailer crew could've held back a storm this big, but with only two of them and both already exhausted… Outrunning it was their only shot.
The face of Si Wong Rock towered in front of them and they swerved the sailer to the right, cutting an arc through the sand. The sailer rocked up onto one hull as it hurtled around to the side of the rock. The cliffside rushed past them in a brown-black blur and Zafirah's heart leaped into her throat. We're gonna make it, if we can just get to the leeward side!
The cliffside curved away beside them and they pushed the sailer to follow it; they were so close to safety! Zafirah let out a wild, breathless laugh that the roaring storm swallowed up, deafeningly loud by now—
And then the howling winds snared the back of the sailer and engulfed them. Sharp, shredding gales tore at Zafirah, and the sailer bucked sharply under her feet, thrusting up into the air. She gasped and wheeled her arms, her focus broken— the sand tornado faltered and pulsated as Basam fought to hold it, then it blasted apart into chaotic swirls. The sailer shuddered and swung sideways, wood planks groaning as the whole thing tilted up beneath her onto its left hull. She brought her arms up again, pushing hard, straining to regain control, but she was so very tired. For a long, awful moment, all she could see was the sand beneath her and she could have sworn that her heart froze in her chest.
The left hull gave way with a scream of twisting, splintering wood. The sailer flipped upwards, and she heard panicked shouts from beside her— the desert rushed up at Zafirah as the collapsing sailer flung her from her perch. She hit the sand hard, and all she heard before she faded out was the crunch of wood and the howling storm and someone screaming out…
Someone shook her shoulder and she opened her eyes— a dark shape loomed over her and pulled on her arm. Between the narrow slits in her visor and the raging storm with its densely flying sand, she couldn't tell who it was.
"Basam?" she tried to say, but her throat was bone-dry. But the hand that grabbed her didn't look like her brother's and those definitely weren't his clothes. Kuei stood up and tugged her arm, helping her to her feet. "Where's Basam?" she yelled over the storm. Kuei pointed behind her, to the dark bulk of Si Wong Rock. She could barely see it through the storm.
They waded through the storm, but they only made it a few steps before the winds nearly pushed them off their feet. Zafirah shook Kuei's hand off her sleeve and raised her arms, turning to face into the storm. It whipped at her face, stinging her skin and battering at her visor and scarves. Something had to be done or they weren't going to get very far. Taking a deep breath, she pushed against the storm— and it pushed right back. She gritted her teeth and dug her feet in, resisting. Her muscles were aching from days of Sandbending, she was just about at her limit already, but she pushed…and the sand yielded. It parted around the two of them, streaming past as if she'd put up a shield. They started making their way towards Si Wong Rock again, one slow step at a time. The shield got smaller and smaller with every footfall— Zafirah's arms were shaking from the effort of holding back the storm.
Finally, they ducked behind an outcropping of rock that stood out from the base of the cliff and the winds died down. Basam sat there, slumped against the rock, clutching his left wrist. Bosco huddled beside him and whimpered; the bear had a gash on his right shoulder. Zafirah dropped to the sand, exhausted, her head pounding. Kuei sank down next to her, coughing into the crook of his arm. Bosco scooted over to him with a low whine and Kuei gingerly examined the gash with shaking hands. The storm still raged outside their tiny shelter, and it didn't sound like it was passing anytime soon.
"So, uh… now what?" Basam said hoarsely. Zafirah tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.
She tried again. "Now we wait it out," she said. Basam looked away; she couldn't see his expression behind his visor and headscarves. He pulled a leather pouch from his pocket and held it tightly in his right hand, turning it over and over. Zafirah knew what it was— the prayer stone that their father had carved for Basam. Zafirah had one in her pocket, too, although she couldn't remember when she'd last used it. Sandbender fathers always carved prayer stones for their children, starting on the day of their birth. They presented the stone to their child on the day of their naming ceremony. The stones came from pieces that cracked off from Si Wong Rock and fell to the desert floor.
After a few minutes, Basam started to sing; it was an old melody, sung in the Old Tongue from ages past. Zafirah joined in, her voice dry and cracking. It wasn't long before Kuei started humming the tune with them. The storm kept howling around them, and they waited.
"—Looks like some kinda Spirit monster."
"Oh, as if you'd know!"
"Shut it, both of you. Show a little respect for our kinsmen."
"Sorry, Qamar."
"I'm just sayin', it isn't any animal I've ever heard of—"
"I said shut it!"
The sound of voices nearby dragged Kuei back to consciousness, and he realized that he had fallen asleep at some point. Achingly bright sunlight filtered in through his eyelids as he woke up and he groaned at the sudden pain in his head, shielding his eyes with one hand.
The sudden realization that the storm had ended filtered through Kuei's muddled mind, and he dropped his hand and opened his eyes. Three Sandbenders stood before them. He could see the hazy shapes of more people behind them. Bosco stirred, shook the sand off his wide head and rumbled curiously at the strangers, making them gasp and scuttle backwards.
"What the…" Zafirah mumbled. She sat up and peered blearily at the new arrivals. "Who… are…" The shortest of the three stepped towards them and yanked down the scarf covering her mouth.
"Zafi?" she asked incredulously. "That really you?" She was pushed aside by the taller one, who scrambled over and crouched down.
"Zafirah?!" he echoed, sounding horrorstruck. "Son of a hogmonkey! What're you doing out in a sandstorm? Basam, is that you, too?!"
"Nice to see you too, Shai," muttered Zafirah. The newcomers gathered around and helped the three of them to their feet, and brought them out into the glare of the morning sun. A cloudless blue sky stretched overhead, with no trace of the sandstorm. Kuei got an unpleasant shock when he looked back at their sheltered spot—sand had heaped up around the rock outcropping, all but hiding it from the front.
As if acting on an unspoken signal, all of the Sandbenders unmasked and faced each other. Kuei followed their lead, pulling down his face coverings and adjusting his eyeglasses. Row upon row of copper-brown faces sprang into focus, peering curiously at their trio.
"Who are they?" he whispered to Zafirah. She stuffed her visor into her pocket and smiled wearily. Despite her obvious exhaustion, it was a smile brimming with relief.
"They're the Aqila Tribe," she murmured.
Mission accomplished! But what will happen next? Well, TBH you already know if you've read the old version, but let's pretend this is entirely new to us, okay? It's more fun that way, right? See you in Chapter 4! I'd love to hear some thoughts on this story, so please feel free to drop a comment or two! Questions, critiques, things you like about it, concerns, throw them all directly at my face plz.