"I'm going to kill him." Was Abel's greeting to Zeinab when they woke to the morning sun. He was staring at Hakim's back as the other walked ahead of them, muttering to himself.

They were still trekking through the desert, five days after they'd left the desert city. The sand dunes had lessened, and desert grasses were growing everywhere , but it was still obvious they were in the desert. And they were two days longer than Hakim had predicted.

"I'm not an experienced traveler." Hakim shouted back. "You can't expect me to keep time to the exact hour."

"Hour?" Abel's eyes went so round in outrage, Zeinab was afraid they would fall out. "This is two days."

"I'm a lousy navigator." Hakim answered miserably. "Blame me."

"Oh I will." Abel muttered, clenching his fists.

Zeinab herself wasn't impressed with Hakim, but she wasn't going to say it out loud, even if it probably showed on her face. At least, they had crossed the border into Jimic; grasses didn't grow anywhere south in Parisia, whether mountain or desert.

"Trust me." Hakim's voice brightened. "This is the last day of our weary march."

"You said exactly that yesterday." Zeinab noted.

"Yesterday, I didn't notice footprints and cart trails in the sand." Hakim said.

"I don't see any trails." Abel said, his voice dryer that the desert around them.

"I might be a lousy navigator, but I'm an excellent tracker." Hakim tossed a frown over his shoulder at Abel. "Don't insult one of my few remaining skills."

Zeinab rolled her eyes at the sky and glanced back at Nari, who was trailing behind them, drowsy after a recent meal. Since they crossed into less hostile land, Nari had been finding enough animals to hunt and feed herself, occasionally bringing back meat for them.

It was a never-ending source of happiness for Hakim that she hunted for them now. All he had to do was roast the meat over the fire.

She sometimes wondered how the man, with all his almost lazy habits, could have been recruited into the army in the first place. Then she remembered the war, and how anyone fifteen seasons or older could be randomly picked and drafted into the army. It was simple luck that Hakim had not yet seen battle.

Or that if he'd seen, he made it out.

"Aha!" Hakim cried out.

Zeinab flinched, her attention snapping over to him as several scenarios that could have caused him to cry out ran through her mind in an instant. He stood frozen in place, staring down the dune he stood on. Zeinab felt a pulse of fear and worry ring through her.

"What is it?" She called, racing for him. Abel followed behind her, unsheathing the sword strapped to his back.

They reached the still frozen Hakim and followed his line of sight. It took Zeinab long seconds comprehend what Hakim had seen, and she had to blink in astonishment.

Instead of sand and grass, as had been for the past several miles, the desert suddenly ended at the foot of the dune they stood on in a flat rock floor. The rock stretched for miles in the distance, ending at the foot of the city ahead, glittering in the sunlight. The entire city seemed to punch out of the earth, a strange anomaly in the monotony of the desert.

"Welcome to Ka Has." Hakim said dramatically, spreading his arms to encompass the entire city. Zeinab ignored him, her attention on the city. Her chest constricted at the sight, tension rising like an explosion.

Great stone walls rose out of the earth, the eighty meters tall barriers surrounding the city in a great ring. Within those walls, brightly colored buildings stood close together, a huge sprawl stretching for the sky. From her vantage point, Zeinab could see great masses of people walking through the streets that winded between the buildings, so many people that they seemed to make up one living, writhing creature.

All the streets led to two large roads laid out in a cross in the center of the city,  leading to the large gates at the city walls. The four gates were wide open, and a multitude of people on foot, horses or carts, went in and out through them, walking down roads that disappeared into the dessert.

"Didn't I tell you it was nearly over?" Hakim asked smugly, watching the city with relaxed satisfaction and confidence, arms folded.

"You also forgot to tell us there were roads that would have made our journey shorter and much more pleasant." Abel turned to Hakim. His voice was a soft, far more dangerous than if he'd growled.

"Now, now, that is beside the point. The important thing is we're here now." Hakim replied, waving a nagging finger in reproach.

Zeinab sighed and glanced back at Nari. The regal dragon returned the look of long-suffering with surprising accuracy. Her eyes dimmed a moment later, though, and she slumped to the ground in a heap, curling her tail around her body. The message was clear

She wasn't coming with them to the city.

The dragon seemed to have read Zeinab's mind. She couldn't come with them, not without attracting unwanted attention. Besides, Zeinab could see no way that Nari could navigate the crowded streets without causing a major accident that would cause her to be forced into chains. According to Hakim, the city had a large port where all flying beasts could be perched, but none of them had the coin to pay for an indefinite time.

The only option was for her to remain outside the city.

She stared worriedly at the blue scaled dragon though, wondering whether it was safe to leave her all alone. Nari returned the look, her serpentine expression slowly morphing into one of resignment.

"She'll be fine." Hakim assured her, and she flinched in surprise. He stood beside her, watching her with an understanding look. "Not much out there is stupid enough to take on a dragon,and even fewer can actually manage to do it."

He was right, and she nodded in answer, givung Nari a final glance before turning away. She met Abel's eyes, and he gave her an encouraging smile.

Pulling on her store of will, she whispered a goodbye under her breath to the dragon, before she started down the sand dune towards Ka Has.

\\//\\//\\//\\//

"How do you find anything in a massive city like this?" Zeinab asked, frowning at the busy street before them.

They sat in an alley, relaxing in the shadows from the cool heat. It was where some of the residents of the street kept their garbage, but in Abel's opinion, it was far better than the hot desert.

"Maybe we put up a sign?" Hakim asked flatly from where he lay, on the remains of a dilapidated living room sofa. "Kidnappers wanted. Preferably those who wear black robes, and have job experience in kidnapping princes."

Zeinab glared balefully at him, but he only shrugged.

"What? I'm trying to help." Hakim asked, eyes wide in mock innocence. Abel forced himself to ignore the irritating parasite, turning back to the gold embroidered piece of black clothing in Zeinab's hand.

It was a piece of the abductor's clothing that Abel had managed to rip off in a weak attempt to stop him. Part of a black cloak belonging to the Prince's abductor. The clothing was the only lead they had to find him, and the Prince, but all they knew about it was what the kings sages had told them; that it had been made in Jimic, not Parisia or Kar.

Not much to go on. Almost nothing, really.

"It's been enchanted." Abel said, remembering how swords had rebounded off its owner when guards had attempted to cut him down. Whatever magic protected him had easily overwhelmed the guards, and their attempts to protect the Prince were useless.

"That narrows it down a bit." Hakim sat up, a thoughtful look on his face. "In fact, that narrows it down a lot. Enchanters often leave trademarks in the spells they create, so other enchanters who come across their work will recognize it as theirs."

"Yes, that makes it easier." Zeinab nodded. "Now we know to search for enchanters, not clothes makers."

"How do you know all that about enchanters?" Abel asked suspiciously, watching Hakim.

"Lay off, will you?" Hakim growled. "Why are you so suspicious of everyone?"

"Magic has been outlawed in Parisia, soldier. You knowing any of it makes me suspicious." Abel began to rise from his seat, hand twitching towards the sword on his back. "With all honesty, Hakim, I don't trust you. Something tells me you are more than just an ordinary soldier."

"Abel, that's enough." Zeinab's warning voice towered above the others, and the two immediately fell silent. Mostly in shock that she had raised her voice in the first place.

Her face was an angry, exhausted mask and her lips drew downwards in a fierce scowl, at odds with her usual calm character. Abel could feel the anger pouring off her. 

He reflexively cringed as he waited for a brutal rebuke.

"We are not in a place where calling attention is wise, so I suggest you keep your voice down." She hissed the last words angrily. "Abel, you might not trust or like Hakim, but you need him, and until you no longer do, you will keep your accusations and suspicions to yourself. Is that clear?"

Abel found himself nodding vigorously in answer before he caught himself. "I understand."

"And you." Zeinab immediately whirled on Hakim. "One more thinly veiled insult at Abel and Nari is going to be doing more than growling at you."

Hakim visibly paled and nodded weakly, glancing at the sky as though expecting to see the dragon swooping down on him. His fear was palpable, before he hid it under an air of casual indifference.

"Good." Zeinab declared, her face smoothing back into a pleasant expression. Her voice lost its hardness and she seemed to return to her former self. The sudden change back and forth was jarring, reminding Abel that he didn't truly know her, and assigning her the label 'calm' was probably a mistake.

"Hakim, we are not in a good mood after so long in traveling, and we are hungry. Find us lodgings and get us all a meal." Zeinab said, tossing him a small pouch. It jingled as Hakim caught it, confirming Abel's suspicions that it was full of coins.

He started to question the wisdom of putting so much money in Hakim's hand, but he remembered Zeinab's warning at the last moment and held himself back. He was going to have to watch himself if he didn't want repeats of what just happened.

Zeinab herself just got up from the large bin she sat on, brushing her clothes. She pocketed the fabric carefully, setting it in her pocket as though it was a precious gem. "Abel and I will go searching enchanters to question on the cloak. Meet us at the north end of the market."

Hakim nodded and turned around to walk out of the alley.

"And don't spend on anything besides our lodgings and a meal." Zeinab warned, and Abel was glad to see she wisely had not put all trust in Hakim. Something about the man struck Abel, and not really in a good way, even though it only showed at times.

"And if hard drink is part of the meal to be bought?" Hakim asked, glancing back at her with eyes wide in sudden, almost desperate panic.

"I don't drink." Zeinab answered flatly.

"Neither do I." Abel added helpfully.

Hakim sighed mournfully, shaking his head. "Of course you don't. I cannot expect mere children to." He muttered as he left the alley, disappearing as he continued down the street.

"You're about our age, you jester." Abel grumbled, watching him dissapear among the sea of people moving along the dusty street. The sudden quiet that accompanied his absence was troubling. Was he actually getting used to the loudmouth soldier?

Let's move on, Abel." Zeinab said, hiding their bags beneath sufficient trash before marching out the alley. "We have an enchanter to find."

\\//\\//\\//\\//

The first sign that finding an enchanter was going to be hard was the size of the market. Hundreds upon hundreds of tents stretched out in the distance, chaotic paths twisting between them.

Ka Has was a trading city, and its markets were one of the largest on the continent. People from everywhere selling everything and providing all kinds of services had set themselves up; from Tanir from the southwest, selling agricultural produce, to the coastal cities of Afraki and their rare gems; impossibly resplendent citizens of the Southern Empire, displaying their elegant silks and fine bred steeds. She even saw a pale man from the frozen wastes to the far north, selling ice sculptures that lasted for several days, even in the desert heat, thanks to magic.

"Would help if they put up road signs." Zeinab murmured under her breath as she passed by a large shop with desert traveling equipment on display. Not what she was looking for, though it would have been a blessing days ago.

There was something she was missing, she was sure; some order to the chaos she couldn't see. The traders and shop owners couldn't expect buyers to spend their entire day navigating the market.

Hakim or Abel might have figured it out, but they were all separated, Hakim finding lodgings and food, and Abel searching another part of the market for Enchanter stands. Which left her alone to figure it out.

She stopped at a fruit shop, eyeing the juicy looking produces. The shopkeeper noticed her staring and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Zeinab forced herself to turn away, continuing deeper into the market. Her stomach wrapped itself around her spine, crying in protest but she ignored it. That wasn't why she was here.

It took several more hours and a lot of backtracking through the network of roads before she eventually began to see signs that she was where she needed to be.

There were less people, and most of these looked scholarly and affluent, walking in and out of tents with servants in tow. The minority of them were older people clutching staffs with glowing gems embedded in the wood, or younger individuals hurrying between shops with crates in their hands.

The tents themselves showed unnatural signs; overly bright colors without any spot of dust, strange goods on display that moved on their own and important looking men manning the stands.

On a whim, Zeinab turned into a weapons shop, hoping she wasn't making a mistake.

"Good evening, good man." She said confidently, stopping before the table where the young attendant stood.

He looked up from the arrowhead he was closely examining, nodding in greeting. "How can I help you?"

"I wish to purchase an easily concealable weapon." She answered, glancing at the shining weapons hanging on a shelf behind the attendant.

He studied her for a few long seconds before turning around and pulling a display set with a glass face from the lower part of the shelf. He set it on the table between them, returning his attention to the arrowhead he examined under dull lamplight.

The display box was full of all kinds of hand blades, short and long, curved and straight. Some had runes engraved in, while others had hardened edges. Zeinab was sure they all had names, but she could not for the life of her figure out how anyone would remember so many of them.

She chose an identical set of silver handled blades.

"The silver twins." She looked back up at the attendant. "Have they had a former owner?"

"Those are new blades, lady. None has held them since they were forged." The attendant answered, his voice empty of enthusiasm. Zeinab excused it on the assumption that he had a harrying day.

"What are they worth?" She asked, pulling out her money pouch.

"A hundred silver coins." He said, pulling the blades out of the display and sliding them into leather sheaths.

Zeinab set ten gold coins on the table and accepted the blades from him. He swept the coins into a pouch and set it on the table. As she watched, it shimmered and disappeared, as though it had been an image all along.

She had to control her expression not to reveal her awe, or how unnerved she was. The attendant had done that without even an expression of effort.

"Should I want to enchant the blade, who should I see?" She asked, tying the sheath straps to her belt. She relaxed in relief when her tunic easily concealed them. They were light and she barely felt them on her.

"The master of the shop is an enchanter." The attendant answered. "But he is not around. You will have to come back tomorrow."

Zeinab noticed his gaze shift to her side, where she hung her money pouch. She had to hide her irritation. She pulled a gold coin from the pouch and tossed in the air.

It spun for a long second before the attendant caught it and examined it for a long second. "I suppose I could find his whereabouts."

He pocketed the coin and turned around, parting one of the curtains that covered up an inner room in the tent. He stepped in and the curtain fell behind him, leaving Zeinab alone in the small shop.

A minute later, the curtain parted, and a different person stepped out. He was older, and he had silky white hair fell down past his shoulders. A white scar ran across his left eye, stretching down his face and disappearing into the collar of his robe.

He exuded an ancient air and Zeinab suppressed a shudder as his cold blue eye examined her. Even though she had no magic of her own, she could sense he was... more than normal.

"I presume you are the master of this shop?" She asked. Why did her voice suddenly sound so tiny?

"You presume correctly." He answered, his voice quiet.

"Your apprentice mentioned you were an expert in enchantments." She pulled the folded fabric from her pocket and held it up. "This has a protective spell on it that I would like professional analysis on."

He took the cloth from her and studied it intently, as though trying to see the individual threads that made it. He whispered indecipherable words under his breath and Zeinab felt herself cringing as the atmosphere became charged, the air turning stifling.

The Enchanter gave a grunt of surprise several seconds later and the nervous energy in the room dissipated.

"This has been marked by two makers." He said, almost as though speaking to himself.

"Pardon?" Zeinab blinked in slight consternation.

"A simple interlock spell and enhanced strength of the cloth fibers." He said, looking up at her. "Both done by two different practitioners, but the harmony of the spells imply they enchanted their work at the same time. That or they did it with knowledge that another would do so also."

"Can you recognize the marks?" Zeinab asked, grasping at the only thing she truly understood in his explanation.

The Enchanter shook his head and handed back the cloth to her. "Only one of them is familiar to me, and the other mark has the appearances of a civilian's work."

Zeinab's hope rose at the first half of his answer, and then rapidly detoriated. If he only recognized one of the enchanter's mark, then they could only hunt down one of the enchanters. He or she might not know anything that might lead them to the Prince's abductor.

At least they had one of the enchanters.

"Can you tell the name of the first enchanter?" She asked, pocketing the fabric.

"The one who created the interlocking spell? Dauphine Kabiri. She comes to the market in two days and sets up shop at the north end of the market." The Enchanter stooped to arrange something in the depths of the table's drawers.

"That is a strange name." Zeinab blinked in surprise.

"You don't choose the name you're born with. Your bill is a hundred silvers." He gave her a cold glance and she immediately regretted her comment. His eyes seemed to grow sharper, and she felt as though his gaze alone could cut her.

Zeinab swallowed as she set down the coins on the table, watching as he swept them up into that purse that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared again. It was investment into her debts, but she still cringed to see so much money spent at once.

She thanked the Enchanter and stepped out of the tent, happily gulping down the fresh air of the night.

The sun had set minutes before and the sky was a dark blue studded with brilliant stars. Hundreds of braziers secured on poles were set beside paths, brightening the tents and the few people still wandering the market.

There were still patches of dark where anything and anyone could hide, and Zeinab suddenly felt glad for the twin blades on her.