Eirik sat on an undamaged stool and stared into the fire Hataya had kindled in the kitchen hearth. The sun had already set and the decision had been made to spend the night at the shrine before deciding what to do next. After a frugal meal from their dwindling supplies, he and Ruefin had worked their way throughout the shrine and transported the mortal remains of the priests to the indoor garden. Hataya had them lay the bones on the bare earth that had once brought forth crops and knelt beside the pile, muttering under her breath. The familiar green light passed from her hands into what remained of the priests of Tsumaqui, wrapping around the old bones like supple, pliant vines. As the light filtered down to the earth, the bones began to crumble and disintegrate until nothing remained but a coat of white dust.

  A decent enough ending, Eirik thought as he sat by the fire and sipped from his canteen. Whether they could put things right was another matter entirely. It was one thing to confirm that the Umriah had taken the ewer, but finding out where they’d taken it was quite another. He knew little of the eastern realms of Divarim other than what he’d seen on the map and heard spoken in the taverns of the south. The Umriah didn’t feature in the stories or on the map, and he had no idea where to start.

  Yadiru wandered into the kitchen and stood beside Eirik, the flickering flames reflected in his orange eyes. On impulse, Eirik grabbed a dusty rug and laid it in front of the hearth. The dog licked the back of his hand then lay down on the rug with his tail gently beating the floor.

  “You know, you do a really good impersonation of a dog,” Eirik said with a smirk. Yadiru put his head on one side and looked at him askance before resting his narrow muzzle on his front paws.

  “Beds are made,” Ruefin said, sweeping into the room and pulling up another stall. “I expected it to feel creepy in here after what happened, but I have to say it’s quite welcoming now. Should sleep like a baby tonight.” Ruefin rummaged in his bag and pulled out a dusty-looking date.

  “Yeah, the atmosphere’s definitely changed. Maybe we made a friend today.” Eirik chewed a strip of dried goat and pulled out the map, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “I’ve a feeling we’re not going to find many friends where we’re going.”

  Ruefin leaned over and scanned the map before shrugging and shaking his head.

  “That’s the real question, isn’t it? Where are we going? Tracking down this ewer is going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “Well, since it’s so important, it must have been taken somewhere importance,” Eirik replied, resorting to simple logic. “There’s a number of settlements marked on the north road. Maybe we should head that way and see what we see?” Eirik dropped the map on the table and yawned widely. “I’m going to get some sleep. Hopefully I’ll dream up a plan.”

  The dusty straw mattress hadn’t looked like the most comfortable he’d ever seen, but Eirik awoke from one of the best night’s sleep he’d had since leaving the Yeshmari. Rolling over, he saw Hataya’s bed was already empty. A long, echoing fart from the other side indicated that Ruefin had yet to rise.

  Eirik stretched and sat on the edge of the mattress while shaking out his boots and stuffing his unwashed feet into them. He yawned again and scratched his balls until the demands of his bladder drove him towards the main entrance.

  The sconces in the main chamber still burned and, as he followed the outer path, he saw Hataya knelt before the idol in the centre. A faint green light surrounded her and he gathered she was communing with Tsumaqui. It could have been a trick of the light but, as he left the chamber, he could have sworn the statue had cocked its head as it listened.

  A shroud of mist lingered over the foothills and faded gradually into the scrubland. In the far distance, the outskirts of the Breskir-Hai formed a wavering yellow blur on the horizon. Eirik turned his attention north and felt relief that the desert didn’t extend that far. A ridge of mountains wound its way into the distance, the foothills spreading out in a green skirt across the land. Recalling the provisions issue, he was optimistic that the forests might provide some decent game. Dates and yogurt had begun to bore him.

  Back inside, Ruefin and Hataya had finished packing their equipment and now stood at a table in the old refectory scrutinising the map.

  “Do we have a plan?” he said, pointedly ignoring the bag of dates despite the growling of his stomach.

  “I spoke with Tsumaqui,” Hataya began, her eyes never leaving the map, “and we should head north. He doesn’t know where the ewer is, but he does know it’s in the hands of another spirit.”

  “That doesn’t sound good. Which one?” Eirik winced at the prospect of stealing from a giant animated statue.

  “He doesn’t know. For the ewer to bring forth water, it needs to be paced in a shrine where people pay their respects, just like this one. It must be an active shrine, not a disused one.”

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  “That’ll narrow it down,” Ruefin said, running a hand through his dusty hair. “An Umriah settlement with a shrine. The north road runs through their territory, so if we check out the towns along the way and ask the right questions, we should find what we’re looking for sooner or later.”

  “Or get strung up for asking questions we shouldn’t,” Eriik replied. Ruefin opened his mouth to speak but Eirik waved a hand to cut him off. “I know, I know, we have to start somewhere, but we still need to be careful. Remember all this happened at least two years ago, and there’s no reason it would have been common knowledge at the time. A group of strangers showing up and asking questions about something people have never heard of is going to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

  “I have to agree,” Hataya said, shifting her attention from the map to the two of them, “so we must take care. From what I know of the towns in these territories they’re a mix of different culture, but we should assume that you two will still stand out.”

  “Especially you, blondie,” Ruefin cut in, pointing at Eirik’s sun-bleached shoulder-length hair.

  Eirik resisted the urge to tell Ruefin to fuck off, and kept his attention on Hataya.

  “A headscarf will do until we see how diverse the population is,” Hataya continued, ignoring Ruefin’s smirk and Eirik’s scowl. “There shouldn’t be any harm in asking about local shrines. Many travellers make offerings to the spirits to ensure a safe journey, so no-one will think it’s an odd question. If we don’t find what we’re looking for, we move on.”

  They stood in silence for a moment until Eirik reached for his pack and took a deep breath.

  “It’s as good a plan as any. Let’s make a move – we should make it back to the camels in good time now we haven;t got to be sneaky.”

  “Hope they didn’t get eaten by anything hungry,” Ruefin muttered, following Eirik and Hataya through the shrine.

  In any event, Ruefin needn’t have worried. The trek back down the mountain passed quickly and they reached the ravine by mid-afternoon. The first thing they saw was Lady Latrine quietly chewing the cud with the flattened body of a wildcat at her feet. The broken reins hung from her halter and swayed in time with her vigorous chewing motion. Her ears twitched at the sound of Eirik’s voice and she raised her head, bleating softly.

  “I guessed you’d look after yourself,” he said, rubbing his hand under her chin. Still tethered, the other camels looked on with mild disinterest and continued their assault on the local greenery. “Looks like everyone’s here and stuffed silly. Wont need to worry about feeding them for a while.” He nudged the furry body lying in the grass and dislodged a host of carrion flies. Underneath the corpse was a compacted outline in the earth, and Eirik couldn’t disguise his grin. “You utter savage,” he whispered, knotting the broken reins and patting Lady Latrine on the flank. She rumbled softly and lowered herself to allow him back into the saddle.

  “We should make it back to campsite before dark if we get a move on,” Hataya said, guiding her mount to the front of the line. “As you said, we’re not hiding anymore so we can move as fast as the trail allows.”

  “You really want to get out of here, don’t you?” Eirik said, encouraging Lady Latrine into a trot to keep up with the departing Hataya.

  “This land isn’t what it used to be. The forest may look lush on the surface but without the water Tsmaqui brings, it will wither and die. I can feel its suffering, its sadness, and it weighs on me. I don’t want to set foot here again unless I have the ewer in my hands.”

  Eirik didn’t need to see her face to know that the shadow of her earlier anger had returned. He admired her passion for her land, her home, and knew her anger would drive her onward.

  For the first time in who knew how long, Eirik thought of his home back in Solendura and wondered what it was like now. It had been nine years since he’d left the mining town of Dalesford to join the army, a lanky seventeen year old with a hankering for adventure. Anything would have been better than the quiet life of the smith his father was training him to be. In the intervening years he hadn’t been anywhere near Dalesford and, if he was being honest, had barely given the place a thought. Occasionally he’d considered sending a letter home but he’d never gotten around to it. Besides, it wasn’t as if they could write back when he was moving around with his unit. What would his father want to say? More expressions of disappointment? His mother would simply beg him to come home, and doubtless his sister would complain that he’d missed her wedding or the birth of her first child.

  Mentally, he shook himself and the memory of Dalesford retreated without protest. It was for the best. The last thing he needed right now was extra baggage.