The ragars landed on a small sand hill. From her vantage point, Clara could make out the town nuzzled among a sprawl of sand dunes. Nazim was not protected by a concrete wall. It was ringed in tall poles positioned at regular intervals. In between the spaces was a glass shield that glistened like the surface of a lake. There were three gates, the outermost being the biggest and the other two, smaller in size. Each was carved in the shape of a ring.

Tamer guided the creatures towards a shed of trees. He ordered them to rest. Before they had left the forest, Clara had helped him hunt for rodents to feed the ragars. When she spotted the four figures standing watch in front of the gates, she swallowed.

More Homunculi guards.

She tightened her fingers over the straps of her backpack. It was dawn but the morning light was not strong enough to animate the world in colors. Everything appeared to be some shade of grey. But as they neared Nazim, the sky brightened and the stars and twin moons vanished.

“Do the Homunculi have free will?” she asked.

Tamer took out the sleeping Mecha from his pocket and poked it. “No. They never disobey orders. Homunculi are simple puppets to their masters. They feel no pain or joy, no love or hate.”

She’d seen Mikail, the guard in the gatehouse, smile at Tamer in Amarant. She remembered the knights standing in rows in the hall like lifeless sculptures, too silent and still, their cold black eyes following them. 

They could smile and frown and speak like living humans and if given the orders, she had no doubt, they could destroy and kill without pity or regret. The perfect soldiers, all soulless and emotionless.

Clara crossed her arms over her chest, feeling cold. Mecha chirruped a greeting at her. She responded with a half-hearted smile.

“You do not like the Homunculi,” Tamer said.

She nodded. “I find them unnerving.”

When they approached the circular gates, a Homunculi guard greeted them. Tamer explained their purpose of visit—that they were passing travelers in need of food and shelter. The sentry allowed them to pass.

 As they entered Nazim, Clara noted the sun riding high in the eastern sky, the clouds stained the color of gold. The street teemed with moving bodies. Men in long robes carried crates full of fresh bread. Women in embroidered veils sold the day’s produce behind wooden kiosks. Children in matching uniforms rushed to catch rolling carriages, and proud horses trotted along with small carts in tow.

“Nazim lies inside an oasis,” Tamer said. “Some call it The Desert Crown.”

A crown in the desert? She was reminded of the barrier surrounding the town of Nazim. The tall poles formed a circle and the ringed gates looked like a set of ornamental discs. It actually looked like a crown from a distance.

“Aha! I know why.” Clara raised a triumphant finger.

“Why is that?” His tone was playful.

She explained to him her findings.

He smiled.

She'd gotten it right. They strolled further into the boulevard. There were palm trees as tall as the buildings, bushy coconuts clustering beneath a crown of leaves. Clara paused to look up a giant statue in the shape of a man. It stood a good distance away, behind huddled houses and grand buildings with yellow domes.

The statue balanced a flat stone blade on its palms. Together with its hands, the blade served as a balcony bordered with banister rails. Lattice windows punctured its body. Green flags flowed down its neck, each decorated with a pink flower and three tear-shaped drops.

“Look.” She pointed at the giant building.

“That’s the headquarters of Nerium, the only other guild in Aurion.” Tamer regarded it with little interest.

“It’s bigger than the fortress of Amarant,” she said.

“You haven’t seen the full interior of the fortress,” he replied, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Clara heard the echo of clacking footsteps from an alley to their left. A petite woman sauntered out of the passage, sashaying her wide hips in graceful motions. She had a teal complexion with streaks of orange, red and yellow on her eyelids. There were markings on the smooth scalp to the forehead before narrowing down over her nose, resembling the spots of a leopard. A narrow pair of web-like crests jutted out of either side of her bald head.

A different race? Clara thought, observing her.

Gold loops dangled from her eyebrows and lower lip. The woman wore a black dress with a high neckline. It hugged her curves, showing less yet revealing more. The slit rose from the hem to her thigh, exposing her leg. She winked at Tamer while she passed them, swishing her tail from side to side.

A haze of jealousy squeezed Clara’s chest. Ridiculous as it was, she couldn’t help but feel furious at the woman’s blatant interest in Tamer.

“That was a Mirian,” Tamer said, thumb pointing over his shoulder.

She blinked, trying to clear her mind. “Rather bold, isn’t she?”

He cast her a sideway glance then shrugged. He guided her into a red tent nestled under a bridge. An old Zamari sat on top of a crate and next to him was a signboard with the image of a sun.

“Good morning. We need to use the telemagi,” Tamer said.

The man held up an iron tin that jingled when he shook it. “Five rasi for half an hour.”

Tamer dipped five silver coins into the tin.

“Go right in,” the Zamari said.

 Pushing the slit in the tent to provide entrance, Clara gasped when she smelled a familiar fragrance. She sniffed again, breathing in a mixture of sandalwood and masculine scent.

“Rai was here. I can smell him,” she said. “Should we look for him?”

“No need. We’ll meet him at the pub,” Tamer said.

It was warmer inside the tent.  There were two men fiddling with a device on a table. One had a necklace made of canine teeth and the other had a mask covering his face from nose to chin.

“Who are they?” Clara whispered to Tamer.

The men glanced at them.

“What do you want?” the one with the necklace asked.

Clara decided to name him Fang. She didn’t like their smug expressions. They seemed rude, the kind of brutes who would have no qualms bullying the weak.

“Oh, I know him,” the masked man said, cocking his head at Tamer. “This one is the best swordsman in Amarant. A Prima.”

“Really, now? How about this one?” Fang approached them, extending his hand to touch Clara.

Tamer pushed his hand away. “Don’t touch her.”

Fang sneered. “Why? Is she your little pet?”

Infuriated, Clara glared at him, hands fisting at her sides. She had done nothing wrong to deserve their insults. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, a curse bubbling up in her throat. She would treat fire with fire.

I mustn’t provoke them. That will only serve to entertain them.

Kindness would be a better tool. She smoothed her expression and flashed the men a sickly sweet smile. Clara noticed the confusion shining in Fang’s eyes before he crumpled his face in distaste.

Tugging at Tamer’s sleeve, she said.“Let’s go. We’ll find another telemagi.”

He didn’t move an inch. Mecha hopped off his shoulder, squeaking in fright. It had sensed his darkened mood. It settled on the back of her neck, its domed body shivering.

“I’m not leaving,” Tamer said.

“You should show more respect to us, swordsman,” said the man with the mask. “Our guild master is trying to save your pitiful guild.”

A muscle twitched in Tamer’s jaw.

So they were members of Nerium. From their attitude, Clara guessed the two guilds were in bad terms, perhaps due to competition or a past rift that had inevitably resulted in hostility among them.

“Let them be, Tamer.” She tugged at his shirt harder.

He turned around. They walked away from the brutes. Clara felt a shot of pain as someone pulled her hair hard. She span around, fingers curling into a tight fist. She hit Fang in the chest. He choked as air was thrust out of his lungs before doubling over with pain.

“You filthy little—”

“Lay one finger on her and I will slit your throat.”

Tamer’s scimitar was an inch away from the masked man’s throat. Snakes of black fire slithered along the length of the blade, traveling to the tip. Grunting in surprise, the man stumbled back, falling down on his rear.

Was he…protecting her? She glanced at Tamer. His expression was stern, his eyes a darker shade of gold. A grotesque shadow drifted over his face but it was gone when she blinked.

She saw the masked man’s eyes widen with fear as he backed away. The same fear she’d seen on Enki when he had been threatened by Tamer. She felt it too. A sudden jolt of dread building up in the pit of her stomach. Tamer looked enraged. Feral. Menacing.

Fang scrubbed his chest, snarling at them. “I’ll make sure our guild master hears of this!”

“What’s this noise I hear, eh?”

The old Zamari strode inside. Pointing at the two men, he said, “I don’t remember letting you in, you foul thieves! Get out!”

Trying to regain some sense of pride, the masked man shuffled to his feet and flicked his coat by the collar. “You’ll be seeing us again, Amarant dogs.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Tamer said.

The two men left the tent in a hurry. The Zamari apologized to them for the interruption before leaving. Clara rubbed her knuckles and flexed her fingers. She leaned on the table, pulling out Mecha from her neck. The mechanical bug shrieked at her. It soared to the top of the tent.

“You scared them,” Clara said.

“They insulted my guild.” Tamer returned his scimitar to its rightful place. “They attacked you.”

He did care about her. She wanted to hug him.

Tamer positioned the device to the center of the table. It was a mirror rimmed with metal moulded in the shape of a sun. He pressed a button. A hologram sparkled to existence. There were words, letters and numbers floating above the mirror but Tamer clicked on them too fast for her to read.

“I don’t see any message. I’m trying to send a signal to Umardt.” He frowned at the hologram. “He’s one of the guild members watching over Amarant.”

“Do you think Rai might have communicated with him?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him.” He sighed. “Umardt is not responding. I’ll relay him a message.” He tapped at the letters, forming words.

“I hope the barrier is falling,” Clara said.

“It will. Nerium’s guild master is as powerful as Lady Alora,” Tamer replied. “With the two of them working together, the barrier will be destroyed.”

When he had finished, they bid the old man farewell and wandered along the streets. Tamer bought dates and showed her how to eat them. Mecha wanted to have a taste as well but it spat the sweet fruit the moment Tamer popped it in its mouth. Clara laughed. Sulking, the bug squeaked at them before flying away.

“Won’t it get lost?” she asked.

“Mecha always finds her way to me,” Tamer said. His lips edged into a slow smile. “I saw what you did to that Nerium fool. Where did you learn to hit like that?”

Clara chuckled. “Timothy taught me.”

“What else do you know?”

 “I can show you if you teach me how to fight with a sword,” she replied.

He shook his head. “Swordsmanship takes years of practice.”

“I have time.”

“How long?” His tone neared calm but she caught the note of bitterness hiding in his words.  

She opened her mouth to speak, shutting it when she came up with no answer. How much time did she have before she was whisked away to Earth? They only needed to save two more seals. Two more seals and she would have no more purpose in Aurion. Why else would Naaji’s entity keep her in Findora? There was no other reason.

Mecha returned a few minutes later. It played with her hair, trying to lighten the mood. Clara stroked its head. Tamer asked a few men for a recommendation. They pointed him in the direction of a building sandwiched between an apothecary and a restaurant. It was an inn by the name of The Cheshire’s Paw.

They stepped inside. Firewood burned in the hearth and yellow flames licked at the bottom of a boiling pot. The innkeeper at the desk was a rotund man with a felt hat shaped like a truncated cone. After Tamer had slid a few notes towards him, he handed them a key to room number twenty.

Clara dropped her bag. “It’s quiet here.”

“The rooms are fitted with a Mute Spell. It muffles the noises from outside,” Tamer said. Leaving Mecha with her, he turned the door knob. “I’ll be right back.”

She rushed to the bathroom and by the time he returned, she had showered and dressed in clean clothes.

Tamer lowered himself to the bed and stretched out. “I’m taking a nap.”

Clara removed a shard of crystal aether from her backpack. “What about the pub?”

“It’s closed. The innkeeper said most shops will not be open until after dusk. There will be a parade in the evening.” Tamer closed his eyes, half of his face sunk into the pillow.

“A parade?”

“Kaaf’s Vanguard will pass through Nazim,” he said. “He’ll have a convoy.”

A spark of excitement sprinted through her body. She wanted to see the Vanguard. Would he be as strong as she had imagined Vanguards would be? Would he be a mage, an alchemist or an Untouched, great enough to break through the shackles of biological limitations?

She narrowed her eyes at Tamer. He might have seen the Vanguard in the palace. A king would have to meet with Vanguards and it would only make sense for a prince to be acquainted with them as well.

 “Have you met him?” She broke off a piece of the crystal and fed Mecha.

“No. He became a Vanguard after I ran away,” he said.

“Have you met the others?”

“Yes.”

Clara waited for him to elaborate but he turned so that he was resting on his back. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes and interlocked his fingers behind his head.

“Tamer?” she called.

He hummed.

“Tell me about the Vanguards.”

“Some other time.”

Mecha hopped off the nightstand, standing on Tamer’s bedpost. Clara toyed with the purple shard in her hand. This wouldn’t be the end of the conversation on Vanguards. She would ask him later.

She listened to the soft rhythmic breathing of Tamer, and saw his chest rise and fall in smooth movements. His long legs crossed over the edge of the mattress at the ankles. The bed was too small for him. She stifled a laugh.

“Rest, Clara,” he said.

She stared at him as if she were a brass gong struck by a hammer. Had he known she had been watching him? She had thought he had fallen asleep. Pocketing the crystal, Clara lay down on her own bed. She huddled under the thin blankets, the faint scent of incense cocooning her.

Images of spider hybrids, bloody pools, breathing walls, slithering tentacles and cloaked figures hovered before her closed eyes, coalescing into a horde of ghastly creatures. She would have nightmares if she couldn’t rid them from her thoughts. She would fight them on her own.

Clara visualized her magic, a white light forming a barrier over the images, compressing them together, turning them to dust. It worked better than counting sheep.

The spinning fan on the ceiling hummed, the palm fronds outside the inn swooshing in the breeze. She relaxed her mind, letting the chorus of whispered sounds induce her to sleep.

Several hours later, Clara woke to the faint clanging of bells. The noise had pierced through the Mute Spell. She peered through the window. Through the slits between the palm leaves, she could see a gathering of people on the boulevard. Round lanterns glided over the buildings, glowing bright despite the glare of the sun.

She crossed the room and stood in front of the basin in the bathroom. Clara turned on the cold water, bent forward and splashed it on her face. Closing the tap, she stared at her reflection. Mecha fluttered to the mirror.

“Would you like to see the Vanguard too?” she asked.

It squealed.

“Follow me.”

 Back in the room, Tamer was still asleep.

 “I’m going out.” She gave his ankle a light squeeze.

She went downstairs, the soft rumble of noises switching to loud cheering and lively murmurings. Slipping out the front door, Clara joined the crowd of onlookers.