Free Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series by E.M. Sinclair Page A

stared back
down, into the deep Valley. The rising sun was just gilding the
tops of the three great Domes even as Kirat appeared over the edge
of the plateau. He dismounted and loosened his saddle.
    ‘We will stop only long
enough for a quick meal,’ he called to the other riders. ‘We must
make as good time as we can today.’
    Pallin joined the gijan
by the fire and produced two kettles. Why were armsmen so devoted
to their tea, Tika wondered absently? When Kirat and his brothers
joined the group round the fire, she noticed all three gijan drew
closer to Sket, leaving a considerable space between themselves and
the Qwah. She met Ren’s eyes and knew the Offering had also noticed
the behaviour of the gijan.
     
    The Dragons flew slowly
on, holding back while the horsemen below negotiated a torturous
pass and a perilously steep descent the other side. Once through
the pass, the earthbound group could see what the Dragons had
already noted: endlessly arid desert lands again. Maressa was
relieved to find how effective the white cloaks were as the sun
climbed to its highest point. While by no means comfortable, she
was not tortured by the blazing heat as she had been on her
previous experience of desert travel.
    ‘Kirat says we will
halt soon,’ Ren bespoke Tika, and she looked down to see the horses
were at last picking their way along a flatter path.
    With Farn spiralling
lower Tika stared back at the line of mountains marching from
horizon to horizon. Who would believe such a fertile, populous
Valley could possibly exist behind those forbidding
ramparts?
    They camped amid vast
slabs of rock, some sharply edged as though sliced from the
mountainsides in some distant past. Large awnings were stretched
between such rocks, offering shade to people and animals alike.
Warned by their earlier journey, Seela insisted that Farn and Storm
take refuge from the heat beneath the awnings.
    The dryness of the air
seemed to steal away any drop of moisture, even from their mouths
and eyes. No one wanted food yet, only a few swallows of water,
before lying down and trying to sleep. Tika drowsed against Farn,
only vaguely aware of the gijan curled against Storm, well away
from the Qwah.
    She woke suddenly and
felt Farn’s steady breathing under her cheek. Moving her head a
little, she saw three small shapes silhouetted against a sky
streaked with sunset ribbons of high cloud. She blinked, her eyes
sore from sand grits. The gijan were hunched close around her but
she could see their dark eyes regarding her. Carefully, Tika pushed
herself up to a sitting position, never taking her own gaze from
the gijan. She tilted her head to one side and held out a hand
questioningly. What did they want?
    One gijan shuffled
closer and a tiny three fingered hand rested on hers. He looked at
their lightly joined hands then lifted his other hand and pointed
to her chest. Tika’s mind whirled with speculation while with her
free hand she reached inside her shirt, tugging the oval pendant
out into sight. The chain was warm against her neck and she let the
amber fronted, gold backed egg swing gently. The gijan hand in hers
suddenly tightened its grip as breath hissed from all three of
them. Without warning, they all dropped forward, foreheads pressed
to the ground. Then they were gone, back behind Storm’s still
sleeping body.
    From first twilight
they travelled relentlessly, stopping only for brief halts for the
horses to be given a little water and to have their feet and legs
checked for damage. The sky to their left was beginning to lighten
before Kirat let them stop again. They were still among the residue
of the mountains and Kirat chose a place where slabs of stone had
fallen across others, making half caves which would help them
shelter through the day.
    This time Pallin and
Hadjay cooked a substantial meal which Kirat insisted all partake
of. Sirak disappeared for a while and returned with several sand
swimmers, the large lizards he’d found for the