“Well, e on,” Quell says, heading to the front of the tent and holding the fp open for me.

  Outside the sky has turned purple, pink clouds swallowing up the stars. The sun is still hidden behind a dune, but I doubt it will be for much luards fall into step behind Quell and me as we move away from the tent, though mercifully they hang back far enough to allow me to speak to Quell privately. I keep my voice low anyway.

  “That story you told about neancy bindio the body of a dead soldier,” I say. “Was all that true? Is that why I’m here? In this body?”

  “Oh, no,” Quell ughs. “That was all hogwash. It’s a good thiher of those two have enough magical theory to realize it was entirely fabricated. The meics wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny for anyone versed in that field of magic.”

  I frown. “Then how did it really happen?”

  “That,” Quell says, pointing at me, “is an excellent question. And I ’t wait to learn the answer.”

  “Discreetly,” I say. I’m certainly not as enthused about my circumstances as Quell, but it would help to have someone on my side trying to unravel how exactly I got here, where Echo and the Role Requirement came from, and how I get rid of them. “That demigod…”

  “Of course!” Quell says. “Of course. I am the picture of discretion.”

  I somehow have my doubts.

  Quell leads me through the camp, beelining around soldiers busy cutting up the carrion cactus and pag the pieces away. Several pause to dip their heads and mutter a greeting as Quell passes. Either he doesn’t hear them, or he’s so used to the treatment that he’s numb to it, as he gives no response and tio weave around the tents. Finally, we arrive in a clearing filled with giant, horse-sized lizards.

  “Whoa,” I say, stopping dead in my tracks as Quell approaches the closest one. Dozens of water bags are tied to their sides, one of which Quell retrieves. One lizard beast turns its head to look at me from the side, its tongue flig out to test the air. Its hide is as bck as night, though the faint m light catches on its scales like an oil slick. It’s not big enough to swallow me whole, not especially with my armor, but it might be able to snatch up a stick-of-a-person like Quell.

  “You haven’t seen a star drake before?” he asks, noting my look and the healthy distance I’m giving the beasts.

  “I’ve seen lizards,” I say. “Just never ohis big. They won’t think we’re bugs and try to eat us, will they?”

  Quell ughs. “We wouldn’t use them to carry our supplies if they did. Here.” He hands me the skin of water.

  “Thanks,” I say, wasting no time in popping the end open to take a huge gulp. Even though it’s room temperature, I’ve asted anything so delicious. The water pours down my throat, easing the scratchy dryhat had lodged there. I hadn’t realized how parched I was after everything.

  “Careful,” Quell says. “Drinking it all in one go will make you sick.”

  I pause to gasp in a breath. “I could use a sed one, actually. This won’t st me very long.” I typically drink more than this during my workouts.

  “That’s a night’s ration of water,” Quell says. “Lucky for you, you’ll get another o dusk in about ten hours. But I’d still save some of that skin for ing up.” His eyes dance over me. “You’re pletely filthy.”

  “Oh,” I say, looking at my hands. My palms are where I’d been holding the shield and rubbing the grit from my skin, but my sleeves—and armor, shirt, and everything else, probably—is covered in blood, long since dusted over with a fine yer of dirt, and now cracked apart like a dry creek bed. I rub a thumb over the bay forearm, and some of it es away, but it will defiake a lot of scrubbing.

  “e on,” Quell says. “ stop, new clothes.”

  “It would be great to not have everyohinking I’m the enemy anymore,” I admit. Plus, I ’t get out of these grimy, blood-caked clothes soon enough. Now that my attention’s been brought back to it, memories from the Bloodlust return and sit heavy in my gut. This is someone else’s blood. Blood from a person I killed. My skin feels like it’s crawling with ants. I want this off of me as soon as possible.

  Quell takes us to more star drakes which are carrying some extra armaments and clothes. He hesitates before the attire, which is when uards step in. Answering a couple questions about my build, I’m soon handed a set of clothes. The base is made of loose, flowing cloth, but I’m also given some leather greaves, bracers, a binder, and a chest pte. After that I’m poio an unoccupied tent, and Quell tells me he’ll be nearby if I need him. Mercifully, the guards don’t follow me in.

  Ihe tent, I drop everything to the ground and stand there for a moment, staring at nothing. I’ve only been here for hours, but it feels like days. Earth seems surreal and distant. The o, just a nightmare. And now…

  I’m no longer human. I try to let that sink in. I feel… I don’t know. Fine, I guess? It’s weird to feel fangs in my mouth, sharp nails on my hands, pointed ears on my head. It’ll take some time to get used to some of these ges. But other ges, my lower voice, feeling stronger and more muscur—I don’t mind those sorts of ges o.

  I begin to strip the staiattered clothes I was reborn in. Because that’s what happened, right? I was really reborn? I drowned in that o.

  I died.

  I’d mao stuff down the feelings before, when I was being scrutinized by others. But now, here, alo all bubbles out of me before I stop it.

  I still feel the burning cold of water filling my lungs. The horrific spasms to dispel it. I pull in a suddeh, as if to remind myself that I’m still here, that there’s still air arouhe memories make me grimace, but all I think about is if álvaro experiehe same thing.

  What kind of older sibling am I? He needed me—he believed I would save him—and I failed him. Images of Mamá and Papá flit through my head. I imagihem finding our room empty, realizing we snuck out to go to the beach. I imagiheir faces when they realize we’re not ing back. Tears threaten to well up in my eyes.

  I pull in a shuddering breath and furiously scrub at my eyes. No, I ’t fall apart now. I might have failed álvaro oh, but I’ve been given a sed ce to find him here. A sed life. I won’t let it go to waste.

  Before ging into the new clothes, I sit on the ground with a coarse piece of cloth and my half-empty waterskin. There’s a stark trast on my skin where my clothes had stopped. My arms especially are still covered in dried blood, and the only reason my hands and face aren't is due to the cloth Quell had given me when I first came out of the Bloodlust. Still, the rest of me is grimy from sweat and dust, so I start there, trying to stretch the liness of my rag as far as possible, before moving to my head. The rag es away red. I scrub my hair and skin until it feels like it’s all about to scrape off.

  I don’t know how much time has passed, but when I leave the tent, old clothes in hand, a sliver of the sun is peeking over the horizon. The sky is streaked with brilliant lines of yellow and e clouds, trasting brilliantly against the purple-blue of the reg night. Already I feel the heat of the sun prig my skin.

  “There you are!” Quell says, standing up from where he’d apparently been reing against aent. Dozing off, maybe? He stops. “Wow. You look good. I mean—. Like a whole different person.”

  I snort, raising an eyebrow. “I am a whole different person.”

  “Ah, right,” Quell says. “I suppose that’s teically accurate. But now you look signifitly less terrifying. I almost believe you really are a Knight.”

  Maybe I look the part, but it feels strao cim a title I’ve had no training for. I lift my arms, gesturing to the pile of old clothes and armor I’m carrying. “Where should I put these?”

  One of the guards steps in to take them even before I’ve finished my sentence. “Oh. Thanks.”

  “You didn’t put the armor on,” Quell notes as I hand over the old clothes.

  I shrug. “Didn’t see much point, since we’re about to go to sleep.”

  “That’s fair,” he says. “But starting tomorrow you should at least keep the bracers and greaves on—never know when you might get ambushed and wish you had your armor with you.”

  “Does that really happen?” I ask.

  He hesitates. “That’s what they say. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  I’m not sure he’s the type to be handing out that adage. But I strap on the bracers as Quell leads us to a final tent. The armor only has a single csp, and when I ch it, a glowing symbol lights up on the leather, then the piece guard shifts to fit snuggly around my arm. .

  “Here we are,” Quell says, dug into a smaller but vish tent. There’s more pillows and a few light bs spread across the bottom for padding—probably too hot to sleep under ohe tent is small enough that we both have to duck our heads to keep from pressing against the vas.

  “Where will you be sleeping?” I ask, sitting down to strap the greaves on as well. Despite Quell’s suggestion, I leave the binder and chest pte off. ’t imagine I’d be able to get to bed in stiff leather ing around my torso, no matter how magically fitting it might be.

  “Um, here,” he says, smiling apologetically. “Sorry. I figured, given your situation and all, it would be best to keep close. Otherwise, there’s the unal soldiers’ tent oher side of camp…”

  I stare up at him. “You wao sleep with you?”

  “Erm.” He gnces away, flustered. “Well, no, I meant—you could sleep near me. Not with me. I mean, in a general proximity sense—”

  Heat threatens to crawl up the bay neck, and I decide to nip this in the bud. “I’m not sleeping in your tent.”

  “Oh.” He recovers, looking at me with a faint frown. “Why is that? I figured, given your circumstances, it would be the most ve—”

  “First off, I don’t even know you,” I interrupt before he tinue rambling. “Sed, I doubt the guards, or Darian, or your brother would be thrilled by the idea of a practical stranger who showed up in the enemy’s clothes sharing the same room with you. And third… Okay there is no third. I just don’t want to.”

  I stand back up as Quell blinks up at me, wide-eyed and insanely naive.

  “Good night,” I say, grabbing my things. “Or, m. Or whatever it is. I’ll find you tomorrow.”

  I hurriedly duck back out, where sure enough the guards are still waiting. I gesture for them to lead the way. “Wherever I get some sleep.”

  Instead of takio the unal soldiers’ tent, however, they lead me to a more secluded part of camp and give me my own, small, private tent. Nearby, I hear a familiar voice professing her innoce—Ambassador Ash, I think. Looks like I’m sleeping on the “maybe an enemy” side of camp.

  I’m too tired to care. I crawl into my one-perso and y down. With the fp closed, it’s surprisingly dark. But I ’t imagine I’m going to get much sleep with the events of the previous night spiraling through my head. The demigod. The Bloodlust. The cursed shield, and all the fighting, and álvaro…

  I guess I was more exhausted than I thought, because I’m out within minutes.

  When I wake and roll over, and every muscle screams like I’ve been hit by a truck. This is why you’re supposed to cool down after workouts. Not that getting thrown into the middle of a battle with a giant cactus monster will give you much opportunity for that.

  I put on the rest of my attire and duck outside, disoriented for a moment as I notice the sky is purple and e once more. Had it only been a few minutes?

  But the colors are at the opposite end of the horizon. It’s now dusk.

  The camp is almost entirely packed up. All but a few tents have been torn down and loaded bato the star drakes. There are several groups of people gathered around fire pits, and the smell of smoke and cooki wafts over to me. My stomach twists up into a knot and loudly annous dissatisfa. Wordlessly, the guards statioo keep an eye on me reappear, then lead me to one of the fire pits.

  “Oh, you’re up!”

  I reflexively grimace at Quell’s voice. There goes my three minutes of peace.

  “Here, I saved you some breakfast,” he says, carrying a stone bowl and spooo me. I feel a twinge of guilt at my rea, and gratefully accept the food.

  “What is it?” I ask, digging in even before he respond. The bowl and utensil are coarse and look like they’re made out of a bunch of sand stuck together. Luckily I don’t get any grit in my bite of stew. There’s very little seasoning—it seems like it’s mostly murky water and ks of rare meat. But my taste buds relief at the tangy, rich taste.

  “It’s the dhampyr rations,” Quell says. “Protein and water, mostly. I find it dreadful, but Darian tells me it’s filling.”

  I guess that’s why the water rations are so low: you get it with the meal. “Could be worse,” I say, finishing off the bowl even as I stand there. “Although maybe that’s the starvation talking. Hey, why do you use stone bowls? Isn’t that heavy to lug around?”

  “We don’t lug it around,” Quell says, gesturing for me to follow him toward the main part of camp. “It’s sand under a temporary spell—many of the soldiers have a stone affinity, so we make them each time we make camp. It’ll fall apart in ahirty minutes or so. So don’t be te to meals,” he teases.

  “Noted.”

  Captain Darias us with a nod, and Prince stance aowledges us with a ghey’re both busy overseeing the tear-doreparations to move out. It doesn’t escape me that Quell isn’t doing anything to assist. The guy really isn’t leadership material.

  In aen minutes, we’re moving out.

  I watch the procedure curiously as several scouts are sent ahead and the rest of the soldiers form a procession, at most five people wide. As aimate, I’d say there’s around a hundred soldiers in this unit. Is that enough to take a city? I don’t know. But it doesn’t feel like a lot.

  “I thought you were going to go look for the princess,” I say to Darian as Quell and I walk alongside her. stance has moved up the lio speak with the scouts and fuard.

  “As soon as we find a lead, I will be,” Darian says. “In the meantime, we’re heading in the right dire. It’s very likely the Umbral Bdes will have to pass through the Oasis aock supplies before moving into Moonfall territory—assuming the Oasis isn’t their destination itself.” She frowns. “Ambassador Ash has admitted there may be a covert Umbral presehere already, though that was the most she would say on the subject. But with our scouts pressing forward, we might force the Duneshade kido take a more circuitous route, slowing their lead in the process.”

  “I see,” Quell says. “I suppose that’s good.” His forehead is pinched in worry, though.

  The night darkens as we tio walk, but no one makes any lights. My eyes adjust to the dim as they had the night before, but I wonder how the humans aren't stumbling over themselves.

  “Do you always move at night?” I ask. “Is it to avoid the sun’s heat?”

  “Daytime is inhospitable in the Gilded Desert, and much of Dunmora South, for that matter,” Quell says. “Most people and cities here operate on a noal schedule. No one’s very productive in the heat of the day.”

  “Really?” Wow, that’s pretty . And it makes sense for dhampyrs, given how they’d be at no disadvantage given their—ht vision. “You don’t have trouble seeing?” I ask him.

  Quell smiles a little as he taps his gsses. “These aren’t just for show.”

  “Yeah.” I look at him ftly. “I figured they were for, you know, seeing.”

  “Well, that too,” he admits. The broken lens is now repaired. I wonder if that’s due to magic or spares. “Mine are artificed to help me see in the dark. Other humans typically use artificed charms, equipment, or temporary spells to simirly help them ma night.” Ah, so that’s what all the goggles are for. I’d just assumed they were to keep the sand out. “But even without, it’s not so bad,” Quell tinues. “Especially with both moons up, like tonight.”

  I go the sky. The sight of two moons hanging in the air still se to me.

  “Darian,” I veer a while. She gives me an unimpressed look. “Er, Captain. I wao ask you a favor, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “You want to learn how to be a better fighter?” she guesses. “I saw you during the attack. You’ve got a powerful on and the muscles to use it, but your ck of teique is apparent. Which is also a big reason why I believe you’re not a Moonfall spy. Even a trained pnt couldn’t fake that ck of skill.”

  “Er, thanks?” I say. “And I do want to take you up on that offer. But actually, I was going to ask about, um, some dhampyr things.” Like, what the hell am I dealing with here.

  “Oh,” she says, looking at me in surprise. “Of course. I answer any questions you might have.”

  “Thanks,” I say, a knot of tension unwinding itself in my shoulders. “I guess the first thing I wao ask about was the Bloodlust.”

  She gives a sympathetic grunt. “That’s certainly one pce to start. But it is important to address. If we get csh with any Moonfall soldiers, you’ll o stay back. You’re too much of a risk with that Bloodlust.”

  I frown, throwing a quice around at the other soldiers. It seems to be a pretty even split between humans, araoids, and dhampyrs. It ’t be practical to have a third of your soldiers fall baytime a fight takes pce.

  “What about all the other dhampyrs?” I ask. “What about you?”

  She gives me a sharp look. “Not all dhampyrs have a the Bloodlust. The ohat do are enced to pursue other professions.”

  “Oh.” I had just assumed all dhampyrs had to deal with this. That just figures. “I mean, I don’t want to be useless in a fight. Is there any way I get rid of it?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Darian says. “Given enough time, you learn to better trol it, but…”

  As she’s speaking, the araoid soldier Xamireb hurries over to us. “Captain Darian.”

  “Report.”

  “We think we found Princess Felicity’s trail.”

  Darian’s face turns to steel, determined and focused, and I tell now I won’t be getting instru on how to trol the Bloodlust anytime soon.

  “Show me,” she says.