me later for losing our camels, but I wouldn’t let them be eaten. I dashed out, snipped their reins, and slapped them on their rumps.
“Hut hut!” I cried. “Go!”
Our campfire was just embers now, so I couldn’t light a torch to scare off the wolves. And there was nowhere to run. I’d have to stay and fight.
All I had was the scissors. They glowed, and for once, I was thankful. I set them against my tent’s coarse muslin, and they snipped and cut, aiding me as I braided and knotted furiously, fashioning a sturdy rope. I tossed it over the tree and clambered up, each touch of the dry bark scraping my skin. The low growls behind me grew louder and louder.
And then the wolves were upon me. In the moonlight I saw their black fur and bloodshot eyes, hungry. There were five, no, six of them.
I swallowed a scream. There’s food in the tent, I wanted to tell them. Part of me pitied their lean, scraggly figures. But then their eyes set on me. I was the prize.
The first wolf pounced. It caught my rope in its gleaming jaws and pulled. I let the rope go, wrapping my arms around a branch. The pack leapt at my dangling legs. I screamed, kicking and trying to haul myself higher.
Above me, the hawk returned, Edan’s red pouch in its beak. Down it swooped to strike the biggest wolf.
The hawk retreated, only to dive again. This time it sliced the leader behind the ears with its talon, then thrust the red pouch into the beast’s jaws. The wolf’s fangs snapped shut on the hawk’s wing, but it was I who let out a scream.
The wolf swung its head violently as the hawk batted its free wing to escape. I wanted to help, but the rest of the pack was still waiting for me at the bottom of the tree.
Then something strange happened. The leader snarled and turned on its pack, as if it were possessed. It let go of the hawk and lunged, tearing into one of its brothers instead. Soon I was forgotten as the wolves fought one another. The sight was gruesome, blood on fur on sand. I buried my face in my hands until the snarls became whimpers, then nothing.
My head was still buried in my hands when the hawk returned, perching on the branch above me. The tip of its wing brushed across my back, and I looked up. Its feathers were ink black, wings tipped milky white, and its eyes a bright, gleaming yellow—and curiously familiar.
Exhausted, I wrapped my arms around the tree, and I slept.
* * *
• • •
“Maia!”
The sound of my name jolted me awake. I squinted, seeing Edan’s tall, lean shape below me. Milk’s and Snowfoot’s, too.
I fumbled down the tree. “Where were you? I almost died.”
“I was retrieving the camels that you lost.”
How could he be so calm? “Did you not hear me?” I shouted. “I nearly died.” I pointed at our camels. “They nearly died. Where were you?”
Edan wouldn’t answer, which only angered me more.
“How are you supposed to protect me if you’re not even here?”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
I gave him a scathing look, then dusted sand from my pants. Everything was so dry. My mouth, my tongue, my throat. If Edan could make a spring appear out of thin air, this would be the time. But I didn’t want to hear another one of his lectures about conserving magic.
His lips were dry too. I noticed that he kept his right arm inside his cloak, and his left hand was bruised. Normally when he spoke, he gestured with his hands, so their stillness made me suspicious.
I poked his shoulder, and Edan let out a small cry. “What was that for?”
“You’re injured,” I confirmed.
Edan rolled his eyes. “I scraped myself.”
“Let me take a look.”
“No.” He shrank back. “I’ll heal myself.”
I glowered at him. “I thought you said magic was scarce in the desert.”
“It is. But I’ll heal. Eventually.”
“At least let me clean it.”
He jerked his arm away. “We need to get going.”
I stared again at his parched lips. “You should drink some water.”
Edan’s lip quirked upward. “Should I call you Mother now?”
I scowled at him and crossed my arms. “How far are we from the Temple of the Sun?”
“Not too far.”
“How come I’ve never heard of it?”
“Few have. It was abandoned hundreds of years ago, and most of it is buried in sand. But you’ll be able to catch