“Noor, can you see that?” Sirene suddenly asked, gazing toward the horizon. “Something’s not right.”
“Hmm?” The concern in her voice drew me from my daydreams. I squinted, but nothing stood out to me. “Where? I don’t see anything strange.”
“It’s a sandstorm,” Shawza interjected, apparently of the same opinion as Sirene. The look on his face turned grimmer than usual as he added, “And I smell something bad in the air.”
“‘Something bad’?” I asked.
“Yes. We should stop the carriage. Now.”
I turned to Lynne. “You heard him, right? What do you think?”
“Ines, pull us over,” she said.
“As you wish. Please stay alert of our surroundings as you disembark.”
Once we’d piled out of the carriage, I squinted at the horizon again. This time, I saw the sandstorm Shawza had mentioned, far off in the distance. It was growing larger as it came straight toward us.
“I’m impressed you two managed to spot it from so far away,” I remarked.
“I am rather confident in my eyesight,” Sirene replied.
“So was I, but I guess I’m no match for you. Do all beastfolk have sight as good as yours?”
“No,” Shawza answered. “Even among our people, it is considered quite a feat.”
“That so?”
For a moment, I wondered whether I could still pride myself on my eyesight. “Probably not” was the conclusion I came to. The only other beastfolk I knew much about was my hunter instructor from when I was a kid, and her vision had been spectacular. I couldn’t compare at all.
Though, to be fair, maybe she was just an exception.
A memory came to me of when I was twelve, roughly halfway through my time at the hunter training school. My inability to control my strength had caused me to break every bow I touched, and when the school eventually ran out, I was banned from ever laying hands on one again.
One night, still desperate to continue my archery training, I’d steeled my resolve and crept into the school’s archery range. There hadn’t been anyone on watch—just as I’d expected—and I soon came face-to-face with the newly restocked training bows.
Before I’d even managed to touch one, a series of dull flashes had illuminated the darkness. By the time I’d realized what they were—moonlight reflecting off a volley of arrows—it had already been too late. I’d leaped back, but the arrows had changed trajectory, following me like living creatures before piercing through my clothes and pinning me to the stone wall of the range.
It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that whoever was on watch had caught me. I’d looked around in an attempt to apologize...but I hadn’t been able to spot anyone. In the end, unable to pull the arrows free, I’d remained stuck to the wall until morning. I distinctly remembered being awoken by my hunter instructor and the incredulous look she’d given me.
“I figured it was you...”
I’d apologized immediately, of course. And when I’d asked about the arrows, she’d explained that they were hers. Apparently, she’d been lying in her bed at home when she’d sensed a “thief” sneak into the range. After grabbing the bow she always kept by her pillow, she’d fired a number of arrows from her bedroom window.
My instructor’s home was nowhere near the training school, which explained why I hadn’t been able to spot her. The fact she’d managed to pin me by my clothes without getting a scratch on me was nothing short of amazing, especially as she’d been half asleep at the time. Then, after firing enough shots to ease her concerns, she’d gone straight back to bed.
Hearing my instructor’s explanation had terrified me, and I’d come to the grave realization that I would never get away with anything as long as I was within her range. Having learned my lesson, I’d apologized once again and then done things the right way by being upfront and pleading for the chance to prove I could use a bow.
Eventually, my instructor had run out of patience and given me several of her personal bows to try—bows so stiff that few people could even draw them. I’d broken every single one, proving once and for all that I had no talent for archery whatsoever.
From that day forth, my instructor hadn’t even let me float the idea of picking up a bow again. Looking back, I figured that was fair enough; the ones I’d broken must have been pretty expensive. I made a mental note to get her something to apologize.
As I wondered whether the capital would have any good bows for sale, the weather began to take a turn for the strange.
“I knew it,” Sirene said. “Something’s not right about that sandstorm. Wind doesn’t normally move like that.”
She was right; even from this distance, the currents seemed off. Suddenly, the storm split into two and started fanning out to the sides.
“Does that usually happen around here...?” I asked.
Rashid shook his head. “Sandstorms of that size aren’t particularly rare...but I’ve never seen one do that.” At some point, his ever-present smile had vanished.
The strange storm continued to advance, moving as though trying to encircle us. Before long, the howling sand had us completely surrounded.
Sirene pointed into the storm. “Is...somebody in there?”
“Yes,” Shawza said, “and we can assume they aren’t a friend. Keep them in your sights.”
“Of course.”
I strained my eyes as hard as I could and, sure enough, spotted a human-shaped silhouette among the sand. There was a strangely dressed man...grinning at us?