Brian Anderson - Shadow of the Gods

The day of their arrival Gewey gathered his belongings and went on deck to wait for Aaliyah. He had decided to wear his elf clothing. It was cool and he hoped it would keep the sun at bay. It was just before nightfall and the air was unusually mild. He had hoped some of the crew would be joining them — the idea just the two of them braving the desert sands unsettled his nerves — but Aaliyah had explained that the crew’s place was aboard ship. Should they need help, she could certainly call them.

The small boat they arrived in had already been lowered into the water. The sea was calm and had a pale green tint, unlike the deep, rich blues he had seen before. The crew took turns bidding him farewell and good luck. He knew he would miss their good humor in the days to come, especially if what he had heard of the desert was true.

Gewey saw Aaliyah approaching from the main cabin. She was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting tan trousers and tunic, and she wore a pair of short leather boots. On her belt were two long daggers. Her hair was tied in a tight braid that danced to and fro as she moved. One of the crew followed close behind, carrying her pack.

“Are you prepared?” she asked, taking her pack and slinging it across her shoulders.

Gewey nodded and they climbed down the ladder, into the boat. As before, Aaliyah channeled the flow, and the craft sped forward. It wasn't long before Gewey could make out the dunes just beyond the shoreline. Even from so far away he could see that they were massive, and tried not to think about how hard it would be to walk them. Soon they were to the beach. The waves lapped curiously against the small boat as the craft slid ashore. They gathered their packs and Gewey checked his sword. There was no driftwood about, so they pulled the boat to the base of the dunes.

“With luck, the tide will not rise this high,” said Aaliyah, “or we may be forced to swim back to the ship.”

“What do you-” he started, but saw Aaliyah's mischievous grin. “You're funny.” He looked up at the dunes and sighed. “I assume you know where to go from here.”

“I know what direction to take,” she replied, “but not the exact whereabouts of our destination.” She stiffened and her hands shot to her daggers.

Gewey instinctively drew in the flow of the earth. At once he knew what had alarmed her. On the other side of the dune, he could sense at least fifty humans. He could feel them moving up the side of the dune and heard swords being drawn and arrows notched. “Nomads,” he whispered. “My father told me stories about them.”

Aaliyah drew her daggers. “Whoever they are, they intend us harm.”

How she could tell that, Gewey had no idea, but he was not about to question her. He freed his sword and let the flow rage through him. He could feel it flowing through Aaliyah, but could not tell if she drew from earth or air.

“Pay heed, and do not lose focus,” she commanded. This brought Gewey back to attention. “When they crest the dune, follow me.”

Gewey crouched ready to spring, his knuckles white around his sword. Then, from a hundred yards to their left he heard the snap and twang of a bowstring, and the thin whistle of arrows flying. He looked skyward, fearing that a shower of arrows was about to rain down on them. But they were not the target. A dozen nomads screamed out in agony as the arrows struck home. Gewey reached out to find the source, but could sense nothing. Another volley zipped through the air, and more men fell.

“What should we do?” asked Gewey.

“We hope that whoever aids us is not doing so to keep spoils for themselves,” she replied. “I cannot tell who or what they are.”

He shook his head. “Nor can I.”

The nomads were scattering like ants, some dragging the wounded, others in a full run down the dune, completely abandoning the attack. After a few minutes there was only the sound of the sea and rustle of the wind.

Aaliyah tapped Gewey's shoulder. “Should we be attacked, drag the boat to the water.”

“What will you do?” he asked. He was not about to let her fight alone.

She held out her palm and a tiny ball of flame appeared above it. “I will be showing them that arrows are of little use.”

It was then a thin figure appeared atop a dune one-hundred yards to their north. In its right hand it held up a bow, and in its left a quiver. Gewey could hardly believe his eyes.

“Elves,” he whispered. “Here in the desert.” For the first time Aaliyah looked surprised and uncertain. “You didn't know?”

“That there were elves here?” She shook her head slowly. “I did not. But I am grateful to see them. Unless I am wrong, that is not a gesture of aggression.” She raised her hand, returning the greeting. “Still, mind what you say. Do not tell them who I am or, more importantly, who you are. If they are like the other elves of this land, being human may be enough to anger them.”

The elf made his way deftly down the dune, slinging the quiver over his back as he descended. He was dressed in white trousers and shirt, and high boots made from a material Gewey had never seen. Like leather in its thickness, but clung like cloth, and was as pliable. At his side hung a long, curved saber attached to a thick tan belt. His short cropped, blond hair was shaved to the skin on either side of his head. His face was obscured by a thin piece of cloth wrapped just below the tip of his nose, and around his forehead, but Gewey could see that the skin around his eyes was pale white.

“Have you ever seen an elf like this?” asked Gewey.

It took a moment for her to answer. “You have more experience with elves than I. I only know those of my own land, and none are like this one.”

He strode up with amazing grace and speed, seemingly unaffected by the deep sand. “How lucky you are,” he called, when he was a few yards away. “Had we not been aware that the Soufis were near, you would be slaves…or worse.” He removed his covering, revealing a broad smile. He looked young, though Gewey knew that when it came to elves, looks could be deceiving. “I was not aware elves from the west journeyed to the desert.” He laughed. “Or that they preferred the company of humans.”

Aaliyah stepped forward. “I am Aaliyah. This is…Gewey.” It was the first time Gewey had heard her use his name. He cracked a smile. “If we have trespassed-”

The elf held up his hand. “One cannot trespass in the desert. They can only step unwisely, as you have done.” He turned his head and let out a high pitched whistle. “But fortune smiles on you. Now you are our guests, rather than Soufis slaves.”

Twelve more elves appeared atop the dune.

“We thank you for your assistance,” Aaliyah said, bowing. “And would be grateful for your hospitality. We have traveled far.”

“Though not alone.” He glanced at the boat. “You did not come here in that. Will the rest not join us? We have never seen elves from the west and would enjoy knowing them. We have heard of their hatred of humans; a tale clearly not true. We would be pleased to have as many of your comrades as care to come.”

“You don't hate humans?” asked Gewey.

He threw his head back in laughter. “Hate? We have few dealing with humans. Why would we hate them? They do not trouble us. Most beyond the heart of the desert do not even know we are here. The humans that choose desert life keep to their own ways, and we have respect for one another.” He glanced at the dead Soufis. “Well, there are some that we are not fond of.” He placed his hand on his chest. “I am Pali. And I welcome you.” He spun around. “Come. The nights are cold and my belly is empty. Our camp is not far.” He paused. “That is unless you would rather brave the night alone.”