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  Atillus drew his sword and ran to meet the beast, ignoring his tribe and everything else.

  Sithares, he thought as loudly as he could, if you can help, do it.

  There was no answer.

  The lion roared as they clashed, and for a moment of pure terror Atillus was certain he would die. He jumped in close, past the claws and the fangs, and a surge of strength coursed through his entire body. His left arm gripped the animal's neck, and his right hand pumped in and out, stabbing the beast's stomach and groin over and over. He rammed the blade deep into the lion's body, and sawed it back and forth, violently ripping into its innards. He felt the loud crunching sound of the lion's jaws clamping shut just next to his face, then there was an explosion of blunt agony against his side; the air was driven from his lungs and he flew away from the creature, twisting and flipping. He landed on the hot grey stone in a heap, rolling to his knees on instinct.

  The lion glared at him, fangs bared. It started moving towards him. Atillus stood, preparing himself for another beating. His tribe were watching now, silent but ready to step in if necessary. He focused totally on the lion. Its steps were slow. As he watched, its eyes drooped closed for a few moments, and it wavered. He started towards the massive predator, feeling the eyes of every Thearan in his tribe follow him. His blade was still lodged in the lion's stomach. He gathered another fireball, pouring energy into it as he walked towards the lion. A low growl started in the weakened animal's throat. It picked up speed. Atillus sped up to meet it.

  As it hunched to pounce, he threw the fireball. The second it connected, Atillus dove to the side. His side screamed in pain as he rolled around the lion's pounce. He swept from the roll to his feet, and as the lion landed, dazed from the explosion of fire, he snatched his sword from its belly. It roared and swiped a massive paw at him. It was still blind, otherwise he may have died in that instant. Instead, its paw missed him by a hair and he ducked close to its body, ramming his sword between its ribs and straight into its heart. This time he yanked the blade out and dove away before it could retaliate, and its roar faded into a moan as it fell to the ground.

  Atillus walked back to his tribe, exhausted and wounded. A cheer went up from the warriors. Their leader killed a Thearan Lion almost single handedly. They embraced him, then turned to the dead lion. They wouldn't starve after all.

  Four days after the lion, they reached the city of Theara.

  It was nowhere near as large as Omatus, but it was far bigger than Atillus expected; and the Thearans were awed by its size. They stood at the main gates, staring at the black stone walls and towers. The gates were open and there were no guards, and thankfully no more lions. Atillus wasted no more time, ordering the tribe into the city. They crossed through the threshold of the main gates almost furtively, as though they expected an ambush. Atillus didn't think this was entirely unreasonable; he'd read that over the thousands of years since its abandonment, many tribes had sought to reclaim Theara as their own. There were no confirmed reports of the city holding any tribes currently, but he thought it likely there may be a tribe or two temporarily living within its walls.

  The road leading into the city was narrow, with high walls on either side featuring angled slits that Thearan spears could fit through. Ancient Theara was notoriously impenetrable; and even thousands of years later, dusty and deserted, it held an ominous and intimidating atmosphere.

  The walk into the city proper didn't take long. The main road opened out into a circular receiving chamber, large enough to hold the entire tribe comfortably. A heavy stone door was set in the opposite side. It would have been almost invisible against the chamber walls made of identical stone, but it was open. The tribe entered into a short, dark stone corridor which reminded Atillus uncomfortably of the soundless corridor protecting the small magic room where he found and awakened Sithares. There was no dark magic here, however; merely shadows. Soon enough they reached the end of the corridor and entered the city.

  Even before they were nomads, Thearans were almost exclusively warriors. The entire city was designed by assassins, warriors, and magicians to be the ultimate battleground for Thearans. The streets were designed as choke points and the homes as fortresses. There were secret passages along every street that could be filled with Thearan spearers at a moment's notice, able to attack through slits or spill out of hidden passages at key tactical points. Atillus couldn't remember being so impressed with a city before. He had no idea why Theara remained abandoned.

  He lead the tribe through the desolate city, the sound of their footsteps echoing loudly through empty streets. A harsh cry stabbed the heavy silence. Atillus glanced up, preparing for battle. It was a lone Fire-Hawk, gliding and wheeling low over the city. Although very dangerous, they were small birds and didn't attack people. Atillus relaxed a little and turned his attention back to ground level. There still may be enemies in the city.

  A few hours of slowly walking through the city brought them to a central gathering place. Here, the black Thearan stone was complemented by bright white Tarsi marble, shining in the unbroken sunlight. A great white stone fountain, empty of water but otherwise in perfect condition, took up the centre of the square. Atillus could smell the rushing water of the fountain in his mind. The thought of water made his dry mouth ache. He ordered his warriors to search the area. No doubt the city had been ransacked a thousand times since its abandonment, but if anything was left behind, he would find it. They found a great hall that opened onto the city square, easily defensible in true Thearan fashion. The tribe set up a camp inside, and Atillus sat for a long moment while his warriors searched the city. Nomiki approached and sat next to him.

  "How long will we stay?" she asked. The lack of pleasantries endeared her to him even more. While his other followers treated him as though he was Sithares itself, Nomiki looked at him as a man. A dangerous man, but a man nonetheless. She was loyal, but she followed him out of respect for his strength and tactical ability rather than out of worship. It was a much more comfortable feeling for Atillus.

  He looked into her golden eyes. "Until I have what I came for."

  She nodded, as if expecting no further reply. He smiled internally. She asked few questions, and didn't show any interest in meaningless chatter. They sat for a while in silence, and she built a fire. The hall was huge, their tribe filling no more than a quarter of the space. The roof was incredibly high up, and there was no chance of smoking themselves out. A few other fires sprang up around the hall as the sun started setting.

  A few hours after Atillus ordered the search, his warriors returned to the hall. He met them outside the door. They found a few sacks of grain which seemed to be edible, a nest of Deathclaws in a small house, and on the other side of the city, what looked like a camp of Thearan warriors. Two of the warriors returned with Deathclaws slung over their shoulders, with the claws and innards removed.

  Deathclaws were desert-dwelling lizards, averaging about a metre long with incredibly venomous claws. They moved slowly most of the time, but were capable of huge bursts of speed at close range. Grey skin with black, diamond-shaped scales covered their backs, meaning they were commonly mistaken for their non-venomous cousins, the Diamondback Lizard. If their claws were avoided, the flesh was edible and nutritious, and two large Deathclaws would be enough for quite a few of the warriors to eat well. Atillus sent more warriors out to kill more of the lizards so the whole tribe could eat, then talked to the men who spotted the enemy camp.

  "We didn't see much, my lord," one of them said, "just the glow of a campfire through a window."

  Atillus nodded. "How large was the building?"

  The warriors glanced at each other. "It wouldn't fit more than twenty," the second warrior said, and the first nodded his agreement.

  "Were there many buildings close by? Buildings that could be connected by doors or small chambers?" They both nodded. Atillus thought for a moment.

  "Very well. Leave them for now, but make sure we have a strong guard
during the night. They may have spotted us too." His warriors nodded once again, and rushed off to gather a group of guards for the night. He looked out into the quiet city. Twenty warriors to fight, maybe many more, and the city was his.

  Zanela

  Time passed. So much time that Zanela began to forget her life in Kashainuukza. She spoke to the Zuzuk, who she named

  Kaidan. The beast never spoke back of course, but she knew it was listening to everything she said. They passed other Zuzuks on their way up the mountain, but Zanela had lost her fear of them. They watched her lazily as she passed.

  The mountain grew steeper as they approached its peak. The last half day was spent climbing a sheer wall of rock. They left the treetops behind as they climbed ever higher. Despite its size, Kaidan climbed effortlessly, making no sounds at all. After a couple of hours, her muscles screamed at her, aching and weak. She paused, breathing hard. Kaidan stopped next to her, watching her intently. Shaking with exhaustion, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the stone cliff.

  Suddenly, she was yanked off the wall and swept up in a rush of movement. Her eyes flew open and then slammed shut again as she swung face down, catching a glimpse of the forest far below. A scream caught in her throat. Eyes still closed, she reached her arms for something, anything. Even as she flailed for something to grab onto, she knew she didn't have the strength to hold herself up. The pace felt incredible; in her mind she saw a massive, terrifying flying monster carrying her off to its lair to eat.

  It took her far too long to realise it was Kaidan carrying her up the sheer cliff wall. By then the terror was mostly replaced by exhilaration; she found she was able to open her eyes briefly and marvel at the distance between them and the treetops on the mountain far below. Even the part of the mountain where they'd left the trees was in the far distance now. Below that were the roiling clouds, and far below that was Pandeia. It now looked like a living map; she could actually see the shape of Shanaken the way it looked on the maps all Kuulshen were taught to read as children.

  The upwards movement stopped as unexpectedly as it started. One moment, Zanela was staring at the world below her, and the next she lurched backwards and down, intense darkness filling her vision. Kaidan never slowed down, just changed direction. They were heading down now, through some sort of cave inside the mountain, moving even faster than Kaidan had run up the cliff. She saw nothing at all, not even Kaidan's rough fur right in front of her eyes.

  Kaidan sprinted further down into whatever abyss had opened from the mountain's peak. Then the beast leapt without breaking stride. For a moment it felt to Zanela like they were flying; they sped through the air for far longer than even a Zuzuk should be able to jump. Finally, they landed lightly, still in darkness, and Kaidan ran again. Something slapped her face and she screamed. It was wet and slimy. Her stomach lurched as she grabbed for it with one hand; her mind conjuring images of terrible giant worms and other disgusting things. She tried desperately to fling it off her hand before she realised it was totally flat and lifeless. It was merely a leaf, pulled off a branch as they sped through the forest – a forest? Her thoughts cut off as she finally heard the familiar sounds of the forest all around her.

  They surged through trees until they apparently reached their destination; Kaidan finally stopped, lowering her gently onto the thick branch of a tree. They sat together, Kaidan breathing hard and Zanela's muscles aching.

  A forest inside a mountain? She scarcely believed it. They sat in the dark, resting, listening to the life surrounding them. A river gurgled nearby. Now they were still, she heard everything clearly. Insects and birds chirped, sang and buzzed. Somewhere close another Zuzuk growled. Kaidan moved at the sound, but settled again a moment later.

  Eventually, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She climbed to the top of the tree and stared out into the forest inside the Eternal Mountain. When she saw what lay in the centre, her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide.

  Dakesh

  He awoke surrounded by trees and vibrant yellow grass. Pain blossomed over his entire body, growing as he woke. He groaned and sat up. He saw the Alpheus from where he was, and the battle came back to him. He had stood on Kerberos' side when the fight began. Aella didn't see him, and for that he was immensely thankful. The battle was short, and Dakesh avoided killing anyone before the massive explosion tore their tribe apart, but only barely. The explosion swept him into the air, flipping uncontrollably, and after a terrifying length of time he had hit the ground.

  He stood now, peering down at the opposite bank of the river, where the camp-site stood only minutes earlier. Most of the tents survived, albeit battered and flattened. Thearan warriors were everywhere, searching the camp and packing everything that survived the blast. Kerberos stood among them, shouting orders and keeping watch for any members of Aella's tribe.

  Dakesh walked down to the river, splashed across it, and joined the tribe. He found his tent and packed it up with the rest of his belongings. Other than a few tears, it was in working condition. It took about an hour for the tribe to pack everything and form up, and when Kerberos gave the order to head east along the river, Dakesh was glad to leave the site of the battle behind.

  They marched, keeping a leisurely pace. Kerberos was utterly unconcerned by Aella's tribe.

  "She was their most powerful warrior, and that explosion must have cost her most if not all of her magic. We outnumber them, and they were scattered into the desert. By the time they reach us, if they reach us, they will be exhausted and their leader will be unable to match my power. They are welcome to attack, but I believe Aella will wait for us to reach Omatus and engage the city before she attacks. That way she will have us at a disadvantage, caught between two enemies."

  "You don't seem worried about that possibility either," Dakesh observed.

  "I have reason not to be." He said no more, and Dakesh left him to his thoughts.

  The Alpheus was beautiful, and peaceful. Marching alongside it put Dakesh in mind of his old home. Shanaken was teeming with rivers. The sound they made as they snaked their way between the giant trees soothed his mind and soul. The Shenza believed that life had a certain flow to it. They believed without movement, without growth, life would become stagnant and toxic. Water was one of the clearest examples; a flowing river was clean and could be used for bathing or drinking, but a still pool of water would make one sick. Dakesh greatly enjoyed watching the water move ever onward. The land was peaceful here. Not as beautiful, nor as full of life, as Shanaken; but much more peaceful than the desert.

  Mara broke the peace like an ambush. Dakesh knew Kerberos' intention was to destroy it, but he hadn't expected the sight that met him now. Mara was nothing but ashes and a few half crumbled stone buildings. A dozen or so large fires were scattered around the ruins, still burning fiercely. There were no bodies. Ashes covered the ground in a thick blanket. Kerberos barked what could have been a laugh.

  "Our fellow warriors are saved! We truly are protected!"

  At first Dakesh didn't understand. But when Kerberos walked to one of the fires and knelt beside it, the shape became obvious to him. He glanced at the other fires, each burning brightly in the otherwise dead city. They were the Thearans who died in the attack, laying unconscious in the ashes of Mara.

  The dead warriors woke shortly after. Their fires went out just before they regained consciousness, and when they opened their eyes, none of them remembered a thing. They didn't know who they were or what happened at Mara, and they didn't recognise Kerberos or any of their fellow warriors. Kerberos wasn't bothered by their lack of memory; they followed orders willingly enough, and that was enough for him. Once the dead warriors were awake and Kerberos checked the rest of the city to make sure they hadn't left anyone behind, they marched along the Alpheus again. He paused briefly at one point, scanning the landscape keenly as though he was missing something. He shook his head and muttered to himself, and they moved on.

  The idea of resurrection
disturbed Dakesh. Life was a circle that flowed endlessly, with one being's death feeding the life of others. It was part of the concept of Shaiduul, the philosophy of the Shenza people; the eternal flow of life. Every part of their culture was based on Shaiduul. Their moving home, Kashainuukza, their flowing Blade Dance, and even their deaths. When a Shenza died, they were laid to rest on the forest floor, out in the open, to complete the circle and do their part for Shaiduul. Animals, insects and plants took from their bodies until there was nothing left to take, and the circle flowed ever on.

  Returning from the dead broke that circle, and the thought scared Dakesh more than he could have described. He was now like these dead warriors, and when he died he would come back as they did, with no memory and no identity. Why would Kerberos want such an existence for himself and his tribe?

  To better serve me.

  Sithares finally broke its long silence. But instead of relief, Dakesh felt only a deeper disquiet. For the first time, it occurred to him he may have strayed from the path he was meant to take.