Need for Steed: Suravani's Oasis

[Breaker]

With Breaker perched on its broad back, the griffin stalked towards the mouth of the cave, where a low wind moaned against the opening. The great beast paused on the stony brink, ruffling its feathers.

"Hist, young deity," the griffin said, "be swift; there is a parcel meant for you concealed beneath my right wing. Reach for it now!"

Josh flattened himself against the beast's back as he had done during its hair-raising dives, and reached beneath a heavily muscled wing. His hand encountered a small leather satchel, bound shut with strips of canvas. His heart soared like a griffin riding the thermals. Sall'Ema had succeeded after all. Josh clutched the satchel in both hands and gripped the griffin's back with his knees.

"Thank you, my friend," he whispered next to the guardian's ear.

"I know not what you speak of, young deity," the griffin said, and plunged from the precipice.

The return flight was less enthralling without a gasping Sall'Ema pressed against Josh's body. The feeling of wind whipping by on all sides and the sight of Fallieni establishments far below felt comparatively dull. They winged through the night by the moon's silver light; despite the supplies stolen from Hybrid Isle, it seemed Suravani still blessed Breaker's passage. Perhaps she endeavored to meet him as much as he did her.

After what seemed a surprisingly short time, the griffin landed in a thud of scattered sand. Breaker slid down from its back, recognizing the nearby cactus grove and the small fire pit Sall'Ema had used to summon the mythical beast. The first creased brow lines of dawn were just peering over the dunes to the east, and the air smelled of fresh opportunities.

"Thank you," Josh said to the griffin, "for everything," he added, giving the sealed satchel a small shake.

"Thank you, Joshua Cronen, for my life." The griffin replied, reminding him that they had met by nearly killing one another. It bent its plumed forelegs in an elegant bow. Josh smiled and returned the gesture, keeping his eyes on the fearsome beak and talons.

"May I know your name?" He asked as he straightened his spine.

"I am merely a son of Suravani." The griffin clicked its beak and then broke into a shambling run and lifted off. In a cyclone of sand and a swirling of dawn colors, it vanished.

Breaker took a deep breath and heard a familiar noise. He looked to his left. The head of a horse, followed by the torso of the young Fallieni rider, crested a dune. He looked to his right. The next leather standard marking out the race's course flapped slightly in the growing wind. Josh hung the leather satchel across his shoulders and started to run.

[Breaker]

At first the morning sun provided a pleasant warming sensation after the cool night air. Josh fell into a steady rhythm of running, the satchel bouncing against his bare chest, his black metal boots backsliding a half step for every one he took forward in the sparkling sand. For the better part of an hour he maintained his short lead, and then the horse and rider began to make up ground. The animal's long strides seemed to devour distance, its unshod hooves steady and experienced in the sand. Rather than push himself Breaker slowed his pace and allowed the duo to draw even. A sideways glance showed a victorious gleam in the young rider's eye.

Good, Josh thought, he thinks this is the best I can do.

"What is your name?" Breaker gasped, allowing the fatigue he felt to creep into his voice. He powered around a particularly unstable section of sand, maintaining an even footing with the steed and rider.

"You wish to know who will defeat you in Suravani's Trial?" The Fallieni youth answered with a laugh, "I am Darius the Swift, and this is my steed, Sandthorne... together we have served as personal messenger to the the chief of all Deklans for several years. None can match our speed." He sat straight and proud as his horse crested the dune and bypassed a leather standard.

Only a half-step behind, Josh sprinted for a moment to draw even.

"Not even a griffin in flight?" He asked, and was rewarded with a look of surprise from Darius. "For I hear they can soar... like this!" Josh raced to the brink of the dune's downward slope and leaped off. For a moment he soared through the air, and then he impacted the dirt and rolled downhill like a log. Sand stuck to his bare chest, arms, neck and face, and invaded his breeches and boots. He came to a halt at the bottom of the dune and spat out grit, continuing onward on shaky legs, weaving slightly with dizziness. It was worth the effort; the mad maneuver had put him ahead by half the dune's length.

For the rest of the day the race continued in this way; Darius and Sandthorne would nearly catch Breaker as he crested a dune, and then the demigod would regain his lead by rolling down the far side. By the time the sun stood at its zenith Josh was caked from boots to hair in golden-brown sand.

"You look like a granite phantom," Darius jested as they climbed yet another knoll. The Fallieni youth unstopped his lone skin and took a short pull, swishing the life-giving water around inside his dry mouth. "Would you care for a drink?" He asked, holding the vessel out as he once again drew even with the demigod.

"My thanks," Josh responded, waving the container away, "but that is not within the rules of the contest. Perhaps you should share it with your mount. He is the one doing all the work!"

Darius laughed out loud and took another short drink before stowing the skin.

"Steeds from Suravani's Oasis can travel hard for three days without food or water," he boasted, patting Sandthorne's sleek white neck. The stallion snorted as if in agreement.

Breaker had nothing to say to that; he was impressed, and he could not help but think about what he could do on the battlefield with a hundred such horses and their hardy riders. With the ability to travel so lightly for so long, the Fallieni cavalry's movements would be all but impossible for an enemy commander to predict. Most companies of cavalry had to either stay close to food and water sources, or travel heavy with supplies. Breaker allowed Darius to gain a short lead as he pondered the possibilities of doing battle with Suravani's steeds under his command.

Only Breaker's innate regenerative abilities kept his skin from burning black as the sun descended to the west. The coating of sand sticking to his sweat provided some protection, but still his face and torso tanned a deep brown shade similar to that of the Fallieni folk. As the bottom of the raging sun began to slip below the horizon, Josh caught up with Darius once more. The Fallieni youth was busy striking flint against steel.

"Come share my fire," he called as Breaker crested the dune he had chosen as his camp, "perhaps you will keep Sandthorne and I safe from the harpies this night."

[Breaker]

Darius sparked a small flame that caught and grew on the tinder and dried wood he'd brought in his saddlebags. While the fire devoured the wood the youth unpacked two blankets, spreading the first over his mount's back and neck before sitting by the fire with the second wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He sipped sparingly from his skin and gazed at the next leather standard in the distance. His stomach growled.

Breaker sat across the fire from the Fallieni, still caked in sand, his hazel eyes watching the youth from beneath the layer of dirt. Although he longed for a drink, or to lay down and relax, he remained straight-backed and alert. He was waiting for something.

"With luck, we might catch a hare to cook before nightfall." Darius said.

"I suppose we could," Breaker replied.

"Are you not thirsty?" Darius asked, once again offering his water skin.

"Yes," Breaker said, and lifted a hand. In a wisp of fog an ornate icy vessel appeared, brimming with clean cold water. He took a short drink, enjoying the sensation of the frigid liquid on his parched throat, and then smiled. "Would you like me to refill your water skin?" He offered, extending a hand.

"That is not within the rules of our contest," Darius replied, cradling his skin protectively. "Where did you get that?" He asked suddenly, pointing at the small satchel hanging around Breaker's neck. "You did not have it when first we departed."

"It was a gift," Josh said simply, allowing his icy chalice to dissipate in a puff of steam. The last rays of sunlight slipped over the horizon, and the moon's brilliance grew.

"A... a g-gift from whom?" Darius demanded, clearly put off by the display of water magic.

"From Suravani herself." Josh smiled. His white teeth shone by the light of the moon, and his eyes glistened. The rest of his body remained so still and covered in sand, he blended with the top of the dune.

Darius' stomach growled again, and he realized his folly; he'd wasted the last of the sunlight in conversation. He hunkered down next to the small fire, pulling the blanket tightly about himself, and closed his eyes.

"I am for sleep," he muttered.

Josh leaned back and rested the palms of his hands on the coarse sand. Although his body felt baked and sore from two days of hard travel in the Fallieni sun, he had no need nor want for sleep. The short rest he'd received on Hybrid Isle had rejuvenated him considerably, for he possessed many times the endurance of any ordinary man. He let his thoughts slip back to Sall'Ema, and then to Am'aleh, and his eyes fell to gaze at the satchel still hanging around his neck. It had been badly battered throughout the day, but was still sealed tightly with strips of canvas. The temptation to open it seized him, but he knew he must not. He did not desire to meet Suravani until after he passed her trial in a way no mortal man could.

Neither the night chill nor the far-off cries of hunting harpies could force him to hunker down. As the hours passed Breaker sat stoically, leaning back slightly, gazing up at the moon.

[Breaker]

Darius awoke as morning's first rays pierced the dark clouds which lurked over the Zaileya Mountains. The Fallieni rider sat up with his blanket still tucked in the folds of his arms, surprised to find his opponent sitting across the remains of the fire. The youth wasted little time; he sprang to his feet and set about packing his blanket and the one draped over his horse away in the saddlebags.

"I fought off a horde of harpies last night," Breaker commented, "you really should thank me." The demigod had a thoughtful expression on his face as he gazed up at the lightening sky. The moon still stood overhead, although she faded with every moment the sun rose.

"Did Sandthorne do nothing to help?" Darius responded with a smirk as he saddled the white stallion, "he is ordinarily quite handy in a fight!" The youth sprang lightly atop his steed's back and wheeled the horse about to face the next leather standard in the long, winding line. "Why did you not gain a lead while I slept?" Darius asked, his forehead creased and his long, wild hair blowing in the wind.

"It did not seem sporting," Josh replied. He stood up, still coated in sand from the previous day's racing, and flexed his shoulders. "Are you ready to go home and get some food, Darius?"

In answer the Fallieni youth let out a feral yell and dug his heels into his horse's flanks. Sandthorne leaped forward and cantered down the dune, kicking up grit in his wake.

Josh smiled and followed them at an easy jog, not trying to keep up, but settling for keeping the rider in sight. The course had yet to fully loop around, and he knew they had a long day's travel ahead. He endured it with inhuman stamina, slogging up embankments and rolling down hills until he felt battered and sore all over. As he watched Darius disappear over yet another sandy peak he increased his pace, sprinting up the next slope. The sun had ventured all the way across the blue sky while Breaker labored below. In a few hours night would fall, and before that Suravani's Trial would be finished.

"Oh no," Breaker breathed as he crested the dune. Below he could see Sandthorne thrashing in a pit, Darius struggling to find his feet at his steed's side. They were surrounded by harpies. The half woman, half vulture hybrids pecked and screeched, slashing with vicious claws at the Fallieni rider. Breaker raced down the slope, searching his mind for all he knew about harpies. They're child thieves, he remembered Phyr Sa'resh telling him, and they're incredibly vain. Reaching the edge of the lair-nest, Josh raised his arms and summoned water from the air in the form of snow. Flakes flew down among the harpies, distracting the carrion from their would-be prey.

"Hello ladies," Josh called in a rousing voice. Most of the harpies turned towards him, allowing Darius to seize Sandthorne's bridle and sneak toward the far side of the pit. Breaker allowed the snow flakes he'd created to melt and gathered the water in a great wave which washed over his body. It soaked his hair and his pants and scoured away the lion's share of the sand, revealing his tanned musculature. "May I say your are all looking ravishing. It must be this Fallieni sun that makes your golden hair sparkle so." Josh struck a pose with hands on hips, flexing his triceps, and it actually bloody well worked. With the harpies staring lustily at the demigod Darius was able to find a gentle enough slope to pull Sandthorne out of the nest.

"It was lovely to meet you all, ladies," Breaker said, walking quickly around the pit, "I'm sorry we interrupted your sleep, and yet I'm not sorry I got the chance to witness your beauty." The harpies had lost interest in him at that point, and were busy preening and fawning over themselves. Josh backed away from the pit slowly and nearly bumped into Sandthorne's side. He looked up at Darius. The youth sat in his saddle laughing silently at Breaker's antics.

"My thanks," Darius said, "we may not have escaped without you."

"Why did you not gallop away?" Josh asked, "you might have won by now."

"It did not seem sporting." Darius replied.

For a moment the two men locked eyes, and then rider and runner took off toward the final leather standard in a spray of sand.

[Breaker]

They passed the standard with Breaker and Sandthorne running shoulder to shoulder, and as they crested the next dune Suravani's Oasis appeared like a mirage. The palms bent beneath the breeze and the water shimmered in the dry air. Most of the people had turned out to watch the end of the race. Warriors, children, men and women, all stood about in varying states of unrest. As the competitors burst into sight cheers erupted from the onlookers. They were corralled into two groups either side of a long line drawn in the sand.

Breaker tried to put on a burst of speed, but his legs were taxed and the sliding sands resisted his efforts. His footsteps drummed the landscape in time with Sandthorne's headlong gallop.

Darius called encouragement to his steed, standing up in the stirrups and heeling the horse's flanks on every other step.

As they drew nearer Breaker saw the Deklan chieftain Sulatam, standing in her skirt and corset next to her masked and robed shaman. He heard voices screaming for Darius' victory, but also a fair few cheering on the Breaker. He smelled banked coals from fires and felt the fatigue rooted deep in his muscles from three days of hard travel. He pushed it all aside, ignoring everything but the approaching line in the sand. Each pounding breath brought him closer.

The mighty stallion from Suravani's Oasis refused to flag, and they neared the finishing mark with barely a needle's breath between them. And then, Sandthorne's pace seemed to decrease.

Breaker wanted to think he had put on a turn of speed, but his protesting muscles did not lie. Sandthorne had slowed slightly. Breaker buried his head and sprinted the last of the distance, crossing the line first by the length of his leg.

He had won. He had passed Suravani's Trial.

Josh doubled over, panting, the sandy plains seeming to spin around him. He had never exhausted his body quite so thoroughly. Sweat seeped from his pores, beading on his bare torso and soaking into his denim pants. As his breathing steadied and his vision solidified he felt a light hand on his shoulder.

Darius had climbed down from his saddle and thrown a congratulatory arm around the demigod.

"It seemed you slowed just at the end," Breaker muttered, slapping the Fallieni youth on the back.

"One of us had to win," Darius replied, "and I think Sandthorne has always wanted to see Corone." The rider's dark eyes flashed a knowing smile and then he was lost in the press of the crowd.

The Fallieni children surrounded Josh, reaching out sun-darkened hands to touch his muscles as if confirming that he were solid matter. A number of the warriors stepped up to congratulate him as well, doubtless intrigued by the idea of journeying to another land. And by the measure of a man who could outrun one of their own esteemed horses.

"Hold there," came a familiar, unnaturally amplified voice. The crowd thinned around Breaker until he stood in the middle of a small circle. The shaman stepped into the empty space with a flourish of his cloak.

"This man has cheated!" The shaman cried, voice reaching every ear present. "And therefore he has forfeited the race, and failed to pass Suravani's Trial."

[Breaker]

"Whoa there!" Josh cried, throwing up his hands as angry murmurs erupted throughout the crowd. "What evidence do you have that I cheated? I can tell you now you'll have none, because I did not. I would not disgrace the honor of Suravani's Trial."

"Phaw!" The shaman scoffed, "you are an outlander, what would you know of Suravani's honor? I have it on excellent authority that you deviated from the course during the race." Another wave of murmurs wafted through the crowd.

"What proof do you have?" Josh demanded over the hubbub.

"I do not need proof," the shaman said triumphantly, "we have a method for discovering the truth of these matters."

"If it's another race," Josh said flatly, "you'll need to let me rest first."

"There will be no rest!" The shaman cried, "nor will there be a race. A trial by combat shall determine your guilt."

Breaker perked up despite the fatigue weighing on his muscles. Before he'd become a demigod, before he met Am'aleh, before he learned any sort of magic, he'd been a fighter. And he'd never stopped training as a fighter. He liked to think he could fight better than most folk could walk. Even in his weakened state, a trial by combat sounded like a fine and fair idea.

"You will be matched against one of our finest warriors," the shaman continued, and Breaker brightened again. He could not remember the last time he'd lost a fight against a single opponent. And then the shaman finished his sentence; "me. To the fighting pit!" The masked man led a small stampede around the sandstone cliffs, to a part of the camp Breaker had yet to see. A large cubic pit dominated the area, perhaps twenty yards in length, depth, and width. Rope ladders had been staked to the ground alongside the pit, presumably thrown down to the winners. The bottom of the great trench was stained brown with blood old and new.

The shaman removed his hideous hound mask, revealing the scarred, surprisingly youthful face of a warrior. His nose, ears, and lips were all pierced with jewels studding the openings. He swept off his long cloak, displaying his lean, muscular body for the first time. Tattoos in the shapes of griffins, great hounds, and harpies decorated his back and chest. He snarled at Breaker and then took his gnarled driftwood staff from a second and leaped into the pit.

Breaker spread his bare hands wide and rotated slowly, showing the entire crowd he bore no weapons. He jumped down into the pit with a thud, brown sand crunching beneath his black metal boots. He squared off in a deep fighting stance and waited, breath flowing lightly, muscles already tired but willing to push some more.

"And now," the shaman shouted, his voice sounding strangely hollow without the amplifying mask, "we discover Suravani's true will!" He uttered a few words of power and smashed the butt of his staff down in the sand.

A distant baying erupted from all directions, growing louder rapidly. Four hounds the size of griffins slid to a stop at the edges of the pit, looking down at Breaker with dripping fangs bared. And then, as one body, they pounced.

[Breaker]

Breaker clapped his hands forcefully, sending a gust of wind throughout the pit. It raised a cloud of sand and silt, just as the great hounds pounced. Safe beneath the curtain of swirling grit, Josh rolled to one of the corners of the pit. He became cloaked in grime once more, the silt sticking to his sweaty body. He heard the hounds growling from the center of the ring, and knew that they would use his scent to pursue him. He heard the shaman chuckling and shouting to his followers, who cheered from the embankment. Josh clapped his hands again and the dust cloud became denser still as another gust of wind riled the sand.

"Settle!" The shaman commanded, using a native form of Fallieni magic. Suddenly the dust cloud shrank back to the floor of the pit. It revealed Breaker, caked in grit and standing over the bodies of all four hounds. Their snouts stuck out at sharp angles, their necks brutally broken.

"It's the Granite Phantom!" Darius cried, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. "No matter the challenge we set before him, he always succeeds! Granite Phantom!" He stomped his feet and clapped his hands, and the chant caught on. "Granite Phantom, Granite Phantom!"

Josh leaped over the corpses of the hounds and stalked toward the shaman. The muscular Fallieni whirled his stave and lunged forward, striking at Breaker's head. The Coronian swayed backwards, allowing the butt of the staff to pass within an inch of his nose. He swept forward like a striking snake, grabbing the shaman's shoulders and driving him back across the pit and into the dirt wall. Raucous cheers from above energized him as he slid a scarred forearm across the shaman's throat, slowly choking the life out of him. The shaman struck at Josh's exposed legs and body with his staff, but in the cramped quarters he could find no room to generate power.

"Part!" The shaman croaked a word of power, and the sand beneath Josh opened up, becoming an ensnaring mud pit. Breaker went limp and rolled away, narrowly avoiding being caught in the quicksand. He spun to his feet just in time to duck another swing from the shaman's staff, and absorb a follow up blow to the body. He caught the stave against his abdominal muscles and broke it with a sudden twist of his torso. His hand lashed out, striking the shaman full in the face with a flexed palm. The muscular man stumbled backwards and then fell, landing with a spell-lunk in his own pool of quicksand.

Josh raised his arms and turned in a slow circle. Cheers washed over him like the tears of angels. There were yells of Granite Phantom and Breaker, and a steadily rising chant of kill, kill, kill, kill! The crowd parted as the clan's chieftain Sulatam stepped forward. She looked down on the warriors, as still as a porcelain doll.

"You have bested my shaman in battle," she said, "and proven your innocence, and your good intentions, before Suravani and us all." She gestured around at her followers amid general mutters of agreement. "I ask only now that you spare my shaman. He is an important spiritual guide to us all, an integral part of the Deklans."

Josh looked down at the shaman, who struggled in vain against the clutches of the quicksand. A single stomp from his black metal boot would be enough to end the hateful man. Josh breathed in, and then out. Suravani is watching, he reminded himself. He bent down and grasped the shaman's hand and pulled him out of the mire.

[Breaker]

The fatigue finally caught up with Breaker as he climbed the rope ladder. His arms sagged as he reached the ground and he had to worm his body the rest of the way out. Many sun-darkened hands lifted him to his feet, some patting him on the back and shoulders. The Fallieni folk finally greeted him as one of their own, smiling and speaking too quickly for him to follow as he passed them by. The small satchel still swung around his neck, and he caught Darius pointing at it and whispering to a few women. It was a gift from Suravani, he'd told the young man.

"You fight with the strength of many men, Breaker of Corone," the chieftain said as he arrived before her. She looked up at the sand-encrusted warrior, one eyebrow raised, "or should I call you Granite Phantom?"

"You may call me what you please," Josh said, his head spinning slightly, "so long as you give me a place to lay down and sleep awhile." The chieftain nodded and signaled to one of her warriors, who led Josh back around the sandstone cliffs, to the very tent he'd rested in before the trial took place. Breaker thanked the warrior, stumbled through the tent flap, and collapsed on the pile of cushions. As the west wall of the tent glowed crimson with the day's dying light, the demigod fell into a deep sleep.

He awakened some hours later, in the cool of late night. He sat up, hearing little but the creak of the palm trees swaying in the breeze, and the odd snuffle from sleeping horses. The Deklans were dead to the world, most likely having feasted in his honor despite his absence. Soon they would be exploring a new continent, and deserved such celebrations. Breaker did not require such sustenance, so long as he had the love of his goddess.

Thinking of Am'aleh reminded him of the task she'd passed along in his dream on Hybrid Isle. He removed the satchel from around his neck and stripped away the canvas holding it shut. Within he found a small sealed jar, only the size of the ball of his thumb, and a rolled scrap of parchment. Even his eyes could not make out the writing in the shadowy tent, so he stood and stumbled out beneath the moonlight.

My dear Breaker, Sall'Ema's writing crossed the page boldly, I could not find all the things you would need to summon Suravani. I am sorry. Here instead is a vial meant for summoning a griffin, in case you are ever in need of flight. Pour its contents over any flame. Until we meet again, farewell.

Josh fell to his knees in the soft sand, stricken with grief. He had been so confident in Sall'Ema's concoction, so certain that he would succeed in both of his tasks. He crumpled the note in one fist, squeezing the vial lightly in his other hand. The ability to summon a griffin would do him little good, and yet he knew it would be unwise to waste such a gift. He placed the tiny jar in the back pocket of his pants, and then rose and paced toward the oasis pool.

Again he left his boots on the shore and stepped into the water with sand squishing between his toes. He waded out up to his waist and then crouched, scrubbing the dirt energetically from his bare chest, shoulders, and back. He scoured sand from the legs of his pants with his fingernails, and dipped his head beneath the surface briefly to rinse out his hair.

As he rose to his full height, droplets cascading down his brow and over his eyes, a figure rose from the water with him. It took the shape of a woman, a petite woman with long flowing hair. She looked up at him, her skin shimmering in the moonlight.

"Am'aleh?" He breathed, "no, it cannot be... this is not the sea..."

"No, it is not," the woman of water replied, and her pulsating shape solidified into that of a flesh-and-blood woman. She had flowing dark hair and darker eyes, tanned skin, though not so tanned as the Deklans, and long amber enameled fingernails. She pointed one at him and waggled it reproachfully.

"You dare to bathe in my oasis?"

[Breaker]

"Suravani?" Josh said, and the single word stole all of his breath. He felt empty before the goddess. He felt like he should kneel, or bow, but the water rising around his waist seemed to hold him in a smothering embrace.

"It is I," the goddess said, sounding almost bored. She steepled her short fingers, the long nails clicking together, and looked into his hazel eyes with her dark, penetrating stare. "Have you not sought an audience? There's no sense in denying it, I know that you have."

"I have," Josh admitted freely, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. Suddenly he felt the chill of night on his sodden skin. "But now that I meet you here... I find myself lost for words. Your beauty is as breathtaking as the stories say... I see the moon in your wide eyes, and your cheeks glow with her luster."

The goddess did not blush, but she deigned to smile. "Flattery is for mortals, Breaker. Tell me why you sought an audience before I grow bored and leave you alone."

"My patron, Am'aleh of the Sea, has asked that I entreat you to an alliance." The words suddenly flowed easily, like a river finding its path to the ocean. "She considers you a deity of great power and wisdom, and believes you both could stand to gain from such a relationship."

"And what is to be our... relationship?" Suravani asked. She waved one amber-enameled fingernail and the water around them pressed back, leaving them standing in an empty circle atop wet sand. She crossed the distance between them and pressed one long fingernail into the flesh of his chest, scraping a white line along the solid muscle. "I saw you pass my trial," she said, raising one eyebrow while her pupils drank him in. "You are... a most impressive stallion."

Breaker cleared his throat, fighting the urge to shiver at her touch. She smelled of power and desire. "My lady said to entreat you," he repeated, "she did not say how." He reached out a callused hand and cupped her chin, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with a long finger. "I am to broker this alliance to the best of my abilities."

She leaned forward, lips opening softly as if for a kiss, but she stopped short. A small tremor rolled up her spine and blossomed from her lips in a musical laugh. She stroked his scarred, stubbled face with soft hands, and shook her head.

"I am not so easily swayed," she said, "I do find you... intriguing, but my interests lie in devotion everlasting... not in simple trysts."

"Speak plainly," Josh said, stroking the skin beneath her lower lip.

"I will allow you to take soldiers away from my oasis," she said kindly with a delicate nod, "that much you have earned in the realm of men. But if I am to align myself with your Am'aleh... I should want you to stay by my side. Here, in Fallien. As an ambassador, you may say."

"How am I to take your soldiers away, if I remain here?" He asked, running fingers through her silken hair.

She pressed her petite form against his front. "I should think a man who can conquer a griffin, outrun an oasis steed, and overcome a shaman in single combat, should be able to figure that out." She trailed her fingernails down his chest and let her hands rest lightly there.

Josh chuckled. "You are right," he said, and took a deep breath, "I will stay here with you for as long is it please the Mistress of the Moon."

"Good," she growled, digging her claws into his sun-darkened skin, "for I grow fond of you already."

[Breaker]

The portal opened in the same place it had winked shut a week earlier. Between a small patch of cacti and an uncanny rocky outcrop the air shimmered as moisture poured through from the woodlands near Underwood. The harsh Fallieni sun, still rising over the Zaileyah mountains, dispersed the cool air rapidly.

Two hundred riders stood next to two hundred horses in a long line that snaked around a large dune. They carried weapons on their hips and shoulders or in callused hands, and their saddlebags contained what little they needed to survive. Their tanned, tattooed faces looked at the pulsating portal with a combination of apprehension and anticipation. A clear rift divided the group in two, for half of their number had come from the Esseker clan. At Breaker's request Chieftain Sulatam had sent envoys to the Essekers, telling of his deeds and his wish to harness the strongest cavalry in all of Althanas. As he'd hoped, the Esseker chieftain had demanded the right to provide a number of soldiers equal to Deklans to accompany Breaker on his quest.

Darius the Swift stood next to Sandthorne at the head of the line, dark eyes glistening expectantly. He carried a scroll containing a letter in Josh's hand, addressed to his friend Phyr Sa'resh.

It would be easier for Josh not to step through the portal at all... and in any case, he had promised Suravani he would stay, not go and come back. Phyr would assemble the army and, if necessary, take Josh's spot in the Gisela. As much as he had looked forward to the tournament, the Gisela was a contest for mortals. Breaker had loftier goals in mind, and if staying in Fallien would please both Am'aleh and Suravani... then he would stay.

"Take good care of your riders," Josh told Darius. The Fallieni man gave a nod and smile and then took a deep breath and led Sandthorne through the portal. The line surged forward, with riders preceding their steeds. It must have taken a half hour for all of them to disappear, but Breaker felt as if he blinked and found himself alone in the desert, surrounded by boot and hoof prints. The wind tugged at the ends of his red belt and sand tumbled down the dunes. He had become habituated to the hot sun, although he still yearned for the darkness of night, when the moon smiled so bright. He could see her faintly in the clear blue sky, always watching him.

Breaker rolled his shoulders and walked toward the Zaileya Mountains. Suravani had whispered the name of a cavern to him the night they'd met at the oasis, a cavern that lay at the foot of the spiny range. The demigod strode energetically up the first dune. He could scarcely wait to taste Suravani's embrace.

~*~

Josh heard the cavern before he saw it. The rowdy sounds of men fighting and others cheering them on carried over the sunset-kissed dunes. He approached warily. It seems Suravani is true to her word. She does not desire a tryst... rather evidence of devotion everlasting. She wanted to see the same Breaker who had attracted Am'aleh so many years ago. The battered, bruised prizefighter who walked along the bottom of the ocean in his enchanted metal boots, only to meet the Patron of the Sea. The man who became more, who would journey across the ocean to please its mistress. The demigod who would pluck the moon out of the sky and hold her in his arms.

The Granite Phantom would fight again... in as many of Fallien's pits as proved necessary.