CIRCE

xvii

It's morning when they set out, the sun rising lazily above the horizon, melting the ice-cold sands of night into the blistering dunes of day. The morning heat is gentle, though, which is why they begin so early. They have more than half-a-day's worth of travel to the edge of the desert, so the moment that the first break of dawn scatters across the desert, the traveling party is moving.

Lonan had decided for Sirius, Saanthi, and four of the guards to remain in Selenia as a show of good faith, the Torchbearer a diplomat in his own right capable of forging close relations. It's just Lonan and Tannier among the expeditionary party, alongside Princess Kahle and two of her guards. The Princess leads them out to the edge of Alybe, where they saddle dragons. One approaches Lonan, of pale yellow scales, almost like a snowy desert. She's quite beautiful, Lonan thinks as she reaches out to her. The dragon brushes Lonan's palm with her snout and then boops it, drawing a soft chuckle from Lonan. Gila, Lonan learns her name to be.

Gila allows them on her back, and in a heartbeat, their party is off. They lift into the sky beneath the thrum of wingbeats and glide through the air, above the palm forest and through the hidden entry to Alybe, out into the morning sun.

The heat swells slowly as they travel across the vapid dunes of the Sun-Dried Desert, steadily baking the travelers. Lonan pulls a thin scarf over her head, a cover Princess Kahle had gifted her of a thin material, just enough to keep the sun off her skin. Still, as the morning becomes noon and as the sun climbs higher in the sky, Lonan struggles to breathe deeply. It feels as though cotton has congested her lungs, preventing her from a full, deep breath as she pants. Her joints feel no better as they roast beneath the heat, stiff and achey.

Tannier's hold around her waist is strong. His metal armor has been covered by a thin cloak, too easily warmed by the sun to be safe. Lonan leans back against him as a feathery feeling lightens her head. His arms tighten around her.

They reach the edge of the Sun-Dried Desert by evening, the sun lowering in the eastern sky. The sand gives away to grass. Dried yellow-green grass with thin, spindly trees. The barest border of the Daoine Forest. The dragons drop them off here, refusing to part far from their desert home, the land to which they are loyal. Tannier has to help Lonan off to solid ground, her body stiff and immovable. Gila parts from them with another amicable boop to Lonan's palm, who gives her thanks to the dragon, before she and her kin set off back into the dunes.

It's then that Lonan is reminded of how ill-fit her body is for travel. Hours beneath a bright and vibrant sun, now left to travel the rest of the way by foot, her first step is weak, striking pain through her legs. She curses beneath her breath, grimacing at the frailness of her muscles and the ache of her joints.

"We should take a moment to rest and reorient ourselves," Tannier suggests.

Lonan glances at him, finding his eyes of sea on her, and though he hides it well, Lonan can tell he worries. Part of her, the stubborn part of her, wants to argue that she can continues on, but all sense of practicality knows that she can't, so Lonan remains silent.

"Let's hit the thick of the forest first, and then we'll stop," Princess Kahle says.

She marches on without much of a glimpse to Lonan, that glimmer of intrigue returned to her eyes, focused only on the task ahead. Tannier frowns at the response, but neither of them argue, not willing to risk the chance of a quarrel. It's not worth it. Not when they're supposed to be working together. Lonan will just grit her teeth and carry on.

She falls behind, though, slow in her steps as she fights against pain. Tannier falls into step with her, and Lonan takes his offered arm, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. It helps her keep balance as she treks after the intrepid Princess Kahle.