The Third Apprentice by Lana Axe Page B

asked.
    “What about me?” Zamna replied.
    “You know quite a bit about me,” he said. “But I
know so little of you or your people. I hadn’t even heard of La’kerta before I
met you.”
    “Maybe you should look at a map once in a while,”
Zamna said.
    “Tell me about your tail,” Taren said boldly.
Maybe if he asked a specific question, his friend would open up and talk.
    “My tail?” Zamna asked, laughing. “You like it?”
He stood and turned so Taren could have a better look.
    “I’m sure it’s quite nice,” Taren replied. “Why is
it so short? It looks like part of it is missing.” At least the La’kertan was
laughing. That should take some of the rudeness out of the question.
    Zamna hissed with laughter and took a seat on his
bedroll. “It’s not much of a story, really,” he began. “I wasn’t much more than
a hatchling when an eagle decided he wanted to see what I tasted like. He
snatched me up, but his sharp talons cut straight through my tail, and I fell
back to the soft nest I was born in. He got away with the end of my tail, but I
avoided being eaten. Not a bad day, really.”
    Taren gaped open-mouthed at his companion. Was he
serious? Not only had he offered up an explanation for his nub of a tail, he
had also answered one of Taren’s earlier questions. His species was in fact
hatched from eggs. Assuming he was telling the truth, that is. “Are you making
that up?” he asked. “I’ve never heard anything so outlandish!”
    Zamna hissed with laughter, doubling over and
holding his sides. “You humans have no idea about the people around you,” he
managed to say between laughs. Once he had composed himself, he held his hand
over his heart. “I swear that every word I have spoken is true.”
    Taren shook his head in disbelief. “Incredible,”
he said. “That has to be the best story I’ve ever heard.” With Zamna’s pledge
that the story was true, Taren no longer doubted him. What an amazing place
La’kerta must be. Taren found himself eager to know more about the land and his
unique companion. “Why did you leave La’kerta?” he wondered. “Is your family
still there?”
    The humor drained for Zamna’s face, and he stared
off into the distance. “We should probably get some rest,” he said. With those
words, he rolled over on his side, facing away from Taren.
    With the lighthearted conversation at an end,
Taren stretched himself out on his bed. Maybe Zamna would be willing to say
more another day. For now, he would leave his friend in peace and not press him
for information. The La’kertan was obviously a private man, and Taren didn’t
mean to pry. He wished he had brought along some books to keep him company when
his companion didn’t wish to talk. Instead, he resigned himself to the silence
and looked out at the stars until his fatigue finally caught up with him.

Chapter 9
     
    M orning in the
Red Desert brought a vicious sandstorm tearing its way through the land. The
pair could only stay low in their mud-brick shelter and wait it out. Nibbling
at rations for breakfast, Taren stared out at the raging storm. There was no
visibility beyond the opening to the hut. All was shrouded in darkness, the
sound of the sand swirling and scraping against the walls filled the silence
between the two companions.
    Zamna ate more
cactus, wondering how long the storm would last. He was anxious to get moving,
though leaving this shelter behind was regrettable. They had no choice but to
press on, but it was unlikely they would find such a perfect place to sleep in
the days to come. Leaning back against the wall of the hut, he closed his eyes
and let the sound of the wind lull him back to sleep. It was impossible to move
forward, so they might as well rest.
    The storm ended in
late morning, allowing the pair to pack up and resume their march. Taren had drunk
only one waterskin so far. Zamna had not had a sip of water since leaving the Sisters.
    Taking a small sip
of water, Taren