The Balborite Curse (Book 4) by Kristian Alva Page B

of a long-dead she-dragon lay inside, partially buried in the sand. The jaws were wide open in a silent scream. Near the skeleton, Tallin saw the remains of a ravaged nest: five tiny skeletons, their wing-bones still unfurled. These hatchlings were mere days old when they were slaughtered.
    “Not that one,” said Tallin quietly, stepping outside. Duskeye looked down at his feet and didn’t respond. They both knew the reason.
    Tallin walked into the second cave and breathed a sigh of relief. No bones, and the interior of the cave was spacious enough for them to sleep comfortably side-by-side. “This cave is clear,” he called out, and Duskeye followed him inside.
    The two relaxed in the sandy nook and settled down to sleep. Duskeye nodded off quickly, but Tallin remained awake. The image of the bones inside the first cave hung heavy on his mind. Tallin had discovered identical scenes many times, but it always left him feeling dejected and sad. When he finally fell asleep, his dreams were unpleasant.
    They awoke together in the early afternoon and took off again. The heat was suffocating, but they soon acclimated to the temperature. The southern desert was hotter than the north so there were fewer obvious signs of life, but within the caves and burrows there teemed a myriad of life: dune rabbits, lizards, snakes, and other creatures thrived here without any human interference.
    Shrub vegetation grew across the land, stubbornly laying deep roots despite the inhospitable heat. Large areas of bare soil competed with low vegetation cover. Here and there, a solitary palm offered meager shade. Tallin and Duskeye flew past an immense shield of black crystalline rock, hardened over the centuries, its surface radiating waves of heat, the evidence of some ancient catastrophe.
    A few days later, through a swirling cloud of dust, the Southern Oasis came into view. "Duskeye, will you look at that!” Tallin exclaimed. “The oasis has tripled in size. There’s even a small village.” The palm trees were quite dense now; the area was bursting with lush vegetation and flowering date palms. The oasis was occupied by nomads and their camel herds.
    Below them, brightly colored tents dotted the desert floor. From the sky, the tents looked like jewels upon the yellow sand. People milled around, building their campfires or working in small groups. In the center of the village, groups of women sat outside their tents, gossiping while they worked. One group prepared fresh dates for drying. Others shelled gyndi nuts, separating the greasy nut from the fibrous husk, setting it aside to use later. The nut fibers were stripped out for use in various handicrafts, including baskets, rope, hammocks, and clothing.
    Dark-skinned children laughed in the shade, playing near the sparkling pool water in the center. Date palms grew everywhere, their branches laden with ripened fruit. A ring of drought-resistant grass radiated outward from the oasis for several leagues, and camels grazed lazily.
    One of the tribesmen spotted Duskeye in the sky and shouted, “Sal-alima! Sal-alima!” which meant “dragon-rider.” Others began yelling and waving. Tallin recognized his friend, Sa’dun, signaling from the crowd below.
    “Let’s stop,” said Tallin. “I see my old friend, and I could use a bath and a hot meal.”
    Duskeye circled down and landed near a pool of clear water. Several muscled warriors guarded the oasis, their wrists, ankles, and necks tattooed with swooping runes. The nomads applied the runes during their manhood ceremony, and the markings doubled as protective wards. The guards stepped back, allowing Duskeye to drink from the spring, but they did not leave their posts. Tallin leaned down and drank a handful of water—it was cool and tasted mildly sweet.
    Tallin dismounted, feeling his feet sink into the warm sand. Young people immediately surrounded the two as they walked into the center of the village. A ring of gyndi nut trees circled the