Parched by Melanie Crowder Page B

buckled.
    And then he was sliding, tumbling through rocks and dirt and whipping tree roots. He was falling.
    Falling into darkness.
    Musa twisted in the air as he fell. Above, the sky was like a blue hole punched out of the earth. A hole in the shape of a ragged oval. A shape like the curve and flex of his mother’s hand closing over his own and lifting the dowsing sticks into place.

36
Sarel
    Sarel couldn’t take her eyes off Dingane’s leg, twisted beneath him. It looked so painful. She wanted to reach out and straighten it.
    A rumble shook the ground beneath her feet, and Sarel turned to see a giant cloud of dust boiling up into the air where the little hill had been.
    Nandi burst through the cloud, ears back, baying.
    â€œNo,” Sarel cried. “Nandi, get back—go!”
    But Nandi didn’t listen.
    A sob broke through Sarel’s lips and her grip on Ubali’s ruff slackened. He lunged at the man with the gun pointed at her.
    Crack.
    Ubali yelped. His body was flung backwards as a bullet sank into his chest. Sarel scrabbled to her knees, throwing her arms around Ubali’s limp form.
    â€œNo!” She was screaming now. “No—get back!”
    Crack.
    Buttu slumped at her feet, crying piteously as he gnawed at a bullet sunk into his hip. The rest of her pack swarmed in chaos, half snarling and circling the intruders, the other half whining, nudging warm, brown bodies that leaked hot blood onto the earth.
    Blood beat at Sarel’s temples and her hands clenched into fists. Her mouth opened in a rattling shriek. Sarel ran to the campfire and grabbed a flaming branch. She threw it. Threw it at the men who had come again, come with their guns and their anger and their blood-red flags. She hefted another branch in each hand and ran at them, swiping the flames through the tall grasses and hurling the fiery torches over her head.
    Sivo turned his gun on her then, raised it to his eye and sighted down the long black barrel.
    Crack.
    The bullet shot into the sky, the sound echoing through the smoky air.
    Sarel watched Sivo fall. Watched Nandi lunge from behind and sink her jaws into the skin at his throat. Watched her shake once in midair, snapping the life out of her prey in a single, powerful twist.
    A gust of wind fanned the grasses and swept the flames across the ground. One second, only a few clumps of grass burned, and the next, everything was smothered in smoke-belching fire. Hot winds whipped across the homestead, and the blades of the old windmill sliced through the black clouds.
    The Tandie turned and ran, sprinting to keep ahead of the surging flames. Sarel watched, backing away from the fire until she saw them fall. Backing up, waiting to be sure they didn’t get up again.
    â€œNandi! Come!” Sarel shrieked, choking on the smoke and fanning the air in front of her face. She ran, the dogs pressing close beside her. Halfway there, Buttu crumpled. Flames skipped from one clump of brown grass to another, inches from where he lay, yelping in pain. Nandi lunged back, grabbing Buttu’s ruff in her teeth and dragging him away from the fire.
    â€œNandi!” Sarel screamed as she ducked down the stairs. The dogs leaped down into the grotto, spinning to bark at the smoke that billowed down the stairs after them.
    Finally, Nandi backed down into the tiny room, her hind legs straining against the stones, her spine arched, her teeth still clamped into Buttu’s fur. A trail of blood followed them down the stone-studded stairs.
    â€œDown,” Sarel shouted. “Down!”
    She grabbed Nandi around the neck and pulled her to the floor. What was left of the pack huddled against the curved wall. The dogs lay with their bellies pressed to the ground, eyes watching the smoke sifting into the room, noses twitching and lips peeled back in rumbling growls.
    Sarel ducked her face under her arm and closed her eyes while the whole world above burned.

37
Sarel
    When the