Of Flame, Sand, and Gold
ht jasmine and lies. Crickets sang lazily. The torchlight flickered golden a
is second goblet of wine wh
t of weight, a flicker of movement in
s later, gurgling softly
up, frownin
ans
uickened, l
steel hummed behind him - and coldt, feminine, edged like glass. "We
rden. One by one, the rest of his guards were gon
w over a silver half-mask. Her boots made no sound on stone. In her hand, a blade like p
slowly, de
ow - not touching, but close en
softly. "Tell me everything you think
ips twitched
ifted a frac
aga
ween dead men. The last High Chief-he had something locked aw
u inher
tion," Tenem-Ra snapp
you still have it. Hidden. Untouched.
is silence said more
y that it's bound to someone in the bloodline.
ut her breath slowed - as if co
id you hear?
Before he died, he said, 'It'll call
pa
far too close. Her voice
e where
If I do, I won't live t
he next breath if you do
up. "You're not
"No. I'm here
ows fu
"The fire you've tried to bottle will break out. And when
's heart
next heartbeat
bl
mmer of
o
, move, or breathe, e
eyes flut
den. replaced by cold stone and flickering tor
r in iron-grey robes - face partially concealed by a dark brown veil, fingers gloved in bl
t speak
wat
, wincing. "Wher
d. "That depends. Wher
em-Ra, he rasped.
intly. "I'm what
, shadows twisting around h
he was the echo," he sai
-Ra hissed. "You touch me
smile di
need da
m-Ra could smell iron a
o often. And now you find yourself trying t
k. "Is this about Kae
said. "This is
"You buried something. Somet
, he stepped back - a
light. Sigils flared on the
you tried to keep lock
hand - the flame reach
crea
ped shaking th
was ju
glass, and cruel in its patience. Her wrists were tied behind the metal chair. Herh cracked lips and dead eyes. He was patient.
e said for the third time
kept
h into the freez
th came out in rasps. Her heart pound
mmon her flame again. Not yet. Her body
will w
Blue flame. That narrows the list. We have
aria sai
e artifact, and i'll make
ifted h
blood at
ghed. "That was
across her cheek har
didn't
sm
fraid of what I might
ed back,
d, weakly
t what's coming... when you should be ter
city - in the smog-filled rooft
a dying lamppost. His eyes glinted, and the mark on hi
n was
me... he wa