The Third Apprentice by Lana Axe

sand.
    After a few hours, Taren was begging to stop for a
rest. “I need a few minutes,” he said. “This sand is horrible.” Not only had it
climbed inside his boots, it had also made its way inside his clothes,
scratching at his neck, chest, and thighs.
    They paused to take in their surroundings. Zamna
pointed to a spot a few yards to their left. “There’s a boulder there that
might block wind for a time. Maybe the sand isn’t as thick over there.” He
didn’t sound too hopeful about the latter.
    As they reached the red boulder, Taren tossed his
bag to the ground and plopped himself on the sand. It was just as deep here as
anywhere else. With a sigh, he removed his boots and dumped the sand that had
piled inside. His feet were raw with blisters that ached more when exposed to
the air.
    Zamna grimaced upon seeing his companion’s feet.
“Scales really are the way to go,” he joked with a hiss.
    Digging through his shoulder bag, Taren produced a
small vial of orange liquid. Pulling out the stopper, he wrinkled his nose at
the pungent odor of the liniment inside. Giving the bottom of the bottle a
whack, he poured the thick liquid into his palm and rubbed his hands together.
When applied to his feet, the potion removed all traces of redness from his
skin. The relief was instant, the burning sensation being completely
obliterated by the potion’s healing effects.
    “Not bad,” Zamna commented. “Will it prevent
future blisters?”
    “It will provide something of a protective
barrier,” Taren replied. “But it can do only so much.”
    Zamna reached into his pack and pulled out the
robe the Sisters had given him. “I don’t plan to wear this,” he said. “Maybe if
you wrap your feet with it, they won’t get so sore.”
    “That’s an excellent idea,” Taren said. “Thank
you.” He gladly took the robe and began tearing the bottom of it into small
strips. Wrapping them around his feet, he tested to be sure his foot could
still flex before shoving it back inside his boot.
    Zamna stood to investigate the area behind the
boulder. To his surprise, a few small cactuses were blooming with yellow
flowers. Pulling out a dagger, he sliced off a segment and tasted it. The taste
was palatable, so he cut off a few more and returned to his companion.
    Taren took a piece and inspected it. “This is
poisonous,” he declared. “You can tell by the milky liquid inside it.”
    Zamna took another bite and chewed it. “Poisonous
to humans maybe.” He took the slice back from Taren. “It suits me just fine.
You’re welcome to my share of the rations.”
    Taren snacked on pieces of dried fruit and took a
few sips of water. With luck, they would come by an oasis in a day or two. He
had yet to experience the ravages of the desert sun, and he didn’t wish to
drink too much of his water in case it became scarce.
    Storing the extra cactuses in his bag, Zamna
asked, “Are we ready to move on.”
    “Might as well,” Taren replied. For now, at least,
his feet were in walking condition.
    They trudged on for hours, not stopping again
until well after nightfall. The coolness of the night air was a welcome relief,
and Taren dreaded the thought of tomorrow’s journey. They would be spending
their first full day in the desert sand, and it might be difficult to find
shelter from the blazing sun.
    Before them in the distance lay the remnants of an
abandoned city. Rows of square houses constructed of dried mud bricks rose high
into the sky, some of them collapsing in on themselves. There was no sign of
movement within, their inhabitants having long since vanished from this land.
    “Looks like we’ve found a place for the night,”
Zamna said, leading the way into the ruined village.
    The sand was not as deep as they reached what had
been the center of the ancient town. At one time, this had been a hub of
activity. Now, it lay dormant and uncared for in the middle of a wasteland.
    “I wonder who lived here,” Taren said.