Was this it? Had I come all this way just to perish? I shook my head, determined to drive such thoughts away. Mirages swam on the horizon; I thought I saw Gray, reaching out to me.
Or was that really him? I could swear I felt his hand on mine. He was murmuring in my ear. “Don’t do this, Avari. Don’t die.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” The words barely equated to a whisper.
Gray didn’t answer. Instead I think he slung me over his shoulder. Maybe I fell asleep, because the next thing I felt was a straw mattress. A dozen earthy scents wafted around me.
“Are you back with us?”
“Gray… Where are we?”
He laughed. “What were you doing in the desert, friend?”
I squinted up at him. “Running from slavers; what did you think?”
“You never change.” Stepping away from the bed, he added, “What do you think of my house?”
The place was rough but clean. Four earth walls bounded a space free of clutter, its only furniture the bed I occupied and a low wooden stool. In one corner a kettle sang to itself over a small fire.
With Gray’s help I sat up. He went to the kettle, limping only slightly.
