I look at my companions and shrugged. Clothis looked angry, her arms crossed and a deep scowl on her face. I could tell the last thing she wanted to do was be lead by an insane man through the desert. Jakob, on the other hand, was intrigued. He had already taken a few steps after Will before he realized no one else was following. Fynn’s face was expressionless and his eyes fixed on me. The desert was taking its toll on all of them, their faces shiny with perspiration, but Fynn seemed to be reacting the worst. He still stood tall and proud, as he always had, but the weariness in his eyes was more pronounced. I was starting to worry.
“Come!” Will insisted. “The birds won’t fly for long! I can’t hold them!”
He motioned with his hand for me to hurry, and I scrambled up the sand to reach him. He smiled widely, his face lighting up under all his hair. Jakob was only a few steps behind me, with Fynn and Clothis following behind. Clothis was muttering under her breath, but I could not hear what she was saying.
Will put an imaginary trumpet to his lips and sounded a charge. Raising his hand as if he held a sword, he toppled down the sand dune. I reached out to catch him, but he slipped through my fingers and rolled to the bottom. Quickly, I slid down after him, worried he may be hurt, only to find him lying on his back and laughing at something only he could see.
“This is going to be a long walk,” Jakob sighed as he reached my side.
Will sat up quickly and shook a finger at Jakob. “My walks are never long. My legs are long, and it’s been a long time since they’ve left the house.”
He scrambled back to his feet and marched off again, singing at the top of his lungs as he moved. Clothis winced at his song and looked sharply to me.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked. “If there is anything dangerous in this desert, it knows where we are now.”
“If he saw travelers, there must be a city nearby,” I told her. “We all need a rest.”
“Hey!” Will yelled back at us. “Are you camels going to wait for the goats all day? Hurry! We’ll miss the rising cheese!”
Clothis shook her head. “He’s insane. And I’m insane for following him.”
I smiled at her and headed off after Will again. We walked for the rest of the afternoon in relative silence; my companions and I lost in thought and Will singing songs of his own creation. As the sun began to set and the chill of the desert night crept upon us, Will was suddenly quiet. He put a finger to his lips and pointed across the sand.
The dunes had vanished, leaving a hard plain of cracked sand beneath our feet. Ahead of us were the remains of a tall fortress, its walls crumbled and towers fallen. It sat on a small rise, overlooking the entire desert. I stared at it with a slack jaw as my friends gathered around me.
“What is that?” I asked.
“A Tyrzel fortress,” Jakob spat the name. “When the Huryl tribe conquered this land, the Tyrzel held the desert for countless months. It is said that the ghosts of the slaughtered Tyrzel still roam through the desert, looking for members of the Huryl tribe.”
I shivered. Clothis rolled her eyes.
“Ghosts aren’t the only things in this desert,” Will said with surprising clarity. He looked at Fynn and held out his hand. “Give me your dagger, for protection.”
Fynn hesitated a moment, then drew the blade. The desert was eerily silent except for the sound of the wind. I could feel the laughter bubbling in my throat, and I swallowed it hard. The voices whispered in my head, but I knew this was not the time to lose control. Will was staring at the sky without moving. His face was serious, with no sign of the madness that seemed to plague him. I wondered, not for the first time, what his story was and how he had come to be chained to a stone in the middle of the desert.
“It comes!” he hissed.
A terrible screaming sound filled the air, and I clasped my hands over my ears to block it. Jakob and Clothis drew their swords, and Fynn put an arrow to his bow. Will tightened his grip on the dagger and waited. A shadow swooped down from the darkening sky, and I ducked reflexively. It was a massive bird, with a wingspan longer than I had ever seen and a beak lined with pointed teeth. Its beady eyes spotted us, standing exposed on the desert plain, and it spun around in the air for another try at a quick meal.
Fynn fired an arrow at it, striking it in the leg. The bird squealed in pain and flapped higher into the air, making a quick escape. Fynn shot again, but missed as the bird winged out of range and disappeared into the distance.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Roc,” Fynn replied. “They don’t usually come out of the mountains.”
“It feeds on those who linger in the waste,” Will said. “The souls of the dead call to it. They know we’re here.”
Jakob seemed to pale a bit as he sheathed his sword. He moved to stand closer to me, and I reached out to take his hand reassuringly. I was surprised at how cold it felt in my own.
“Come,” Will said in a singsong voice, his clarity retreating with the roc, “the way is clear, the path is here, journey on, brave soldiers trala!”
He took off at a run towards the ruined fortress. Releasing Jakob, I followed after him, catching up with him easily as he zigzagged across the sand, laughing like a child.
“Is this where the travelers go?” I asked him.
“No, no,” he replied. “No travelers come here, but the ghosts welcome us. We are like them, you and I. They will not harm us!”
He dashed off again and I slowed to a walk. The ghosts won’t harm us, but what about the others? I glanced over my shoulder at the friends who had seen me through so much. Would they be safe from the ghosts Will spoke of?
They caught up to me easily and we watched Will running around in front of the ruins. Close up, the fortress was more massive than anything I had ever seen, even with the crumbling walls.
“There will be a well inside,” Jakob said. “Fresh water will do us all some good.”
I held out my hand to stop him as he tried to walk passed me.
“Maybe we should stay out here tonight,” I suggested.
“With the roc?” Clothis asked.
“But Will said there were ghosts inside.”
“Better imaginary ghosts than a real, live bird,” the Dyrel said.
I was still full of doubts. My friends could defend themselves against a real, live bird, but I had no idea how they would handle a fortress of ghosts that wanted them dead. Would Will and I truly be safe? For the first time, I began to question the idea of following him into the desert. Would he lead us to the travelers he had mentioned, or was everything he said a construct of his madness?