![]() The bone-thin teen had abandoned silent-stepping, racing as fast as he could toward the camel and Jaheje. Jaheje could see Shahib running toward him. Assuming the lookout wasn’t killed, the Xer’Sai would follow the camel away from the caravan and allow the lookout a safe path to retreat. Jaheje had to chase the camel away from the path of the caravan and toward the lookout. The boy who had sighted the Xer’Sai would now use the sounding bell to confuse the beast. At the edge of his visibility, he could see their three flags. The camel brayed, and Jaheje looked for the signal spears of the other boys in his crew. He had been so focused on looking for hidden burrows, he had forgotten to watch the horizon. Something was coming from behind them, to the east. When Jaheje heard the first gong of a sounding bell, it took him a moment to process what it meant. They crept away from the burrow, listening, waiting, scanning the horizon for any movement. “I have seen her.” But before Jaheje could ask about the famous beast, Shahib stood and told Jaheje to keep moving. Shahib chilled, his mood suddenly bitter. But he found himself asking “Does Rek’Sai exist?” ![]() Jaheje smiled, enjoying his mentor’s boast. “Last season I killed one the size of a jackal. Shahib scratched his chin, responding “Their skin gets harder with age.” Slowly, a grin appeared proudly. Jaheje looked back and asked Shahib “Can we kill a Xer’Sai that large?” Shahib sent one of the boys back to redirect the caravan. Its opening was no larger than a melon, but from it, the poisonous vapors of activity brewed. They approached the burrow cautiously and stopped a dozen yards from it. Jaheje found his first burrow on the second day, and waved his signal flag. It meant death lurked beneath the sand.ĭragging the old camel behind them, the team of boys left before dawn, a half day’s march ahead of the caravan. It meant the land was pockmarked with tunnels. Sai was the word the Laaji used for plains of sand and loosely packed rock, which were slow and painful to walk on. The Laaji tribes had never seen an ocean. Northerners called Sai Kahleek the “Bone Sea” but this was a mistranslation. Its bones meant they were entering the Sai Kahleek. No one knew what the monster had been when alive, but its huge ribs raked into the sky, each casting a shadow that engulfed the caravan as they passed. From the top of the dunes, Jaheje looked down at the skeleton of the dead god. He saw how Shahib’s eyes searched the desert in a pattern, over and over, stopping only when he closed them for sleep.Īfter the second moon, they arrived. He saw how Shahib retied the spear’s pendant every morning, making sure the flag’s cut-cloth always flowed like the leaves of a desert palm. He saw how Shahib rested with one foot raised and wrapped around the pendant spear. Longing as much for the older boy’s praise as the training he needed to survive, Jaheje soon followed him everywhere. Yes, this is how you survive Sai Kahleek.” Each step as soft as a mouse, each stride as long as a gazelle. Shahib laughed as he indicated it to the other boys. Shahib complimented him on his technique. By the fourth day, the pain was so intense, he used a bit of leather to bite down on. He practiced long after the caravan stopped and the ground cooled. Jaheje’s feet bled badly the first day he nearly fainted from the pain. You must be quiet, and you must be swift.” “If the camel walks too slowly, it will reveal our presence. Only then do you shift your weight from your rear foot.” He stood and demonstrated how to move with long, silent strides. “Start with your big toe, then roll outward until your whole foot touches down. He showed them how to cut the callouses from their feet. Shahib whistled and the other boys ran to his side. No one except Shahib, who had walked the Sai Kahleek for almost ten years. No one chose to do it after earning any money. Few boys survived crossing the desert for more than a couple seasons. A few small tufts of facial hair had sprouted on Shahib’s cheeks, and his voice no longer cracked when he spoke. Jaheje looked across the cooking fire at the older boy. Only the desperate would try crossing the Sai Kahleek, but those with any meager possessions bartered for Shahib. When Shahib offered him the work, Jaheje hadn’t eaten in days. Some were orphans and escaped slaves, but most were off casts - teenagers abandoned by families too poor to keep them. Six boys and a camel, and the boys were cheaper to replace.
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