"Mara, there has been a disturbance," our new Patriarch, Salbin, enters the room in a huff, his eyes so wide the whites show all around.

"Patr-"

"Call me Salbin," he interrupts, by rote, now, after a week of telling me to not call him 'Patriarch.' I think the title doesn't sit well on his shoulders, yet.

"In the deserts. The rumors..."

"What rumors, Patriarch?" I say sharply. I have just scarcely recovered from the incident with Tafia's beast. All of the postites have been letting me rest, so whatever has Patriarch Salbin so agitated must be something dreadful.

"The First House has proclaimed that one week ago their Lord, Thane, ventured out to the deserts with six of his warriors. They have failed to return." Patriarch Salbin takes a breath while my blood turns from acid to ice.

"The First House finally admitted that they left to go to the Forgotten tombs," he hisses. Anger dances in his eyes. "They finally, after a week, told the Recondites. The Shadows sent two males out there, Mara. Mara... the tomb of one of the First House has been opened."

I blink at Patriarch blankly. Who? How? Why? And... what in the name of my father, Nateos, are we supposed to do?

"Has it risen?" I whisper.

Pale, the whites of his eyes showing, Patriarch Salbin shakes his head. "I don't know, Mara. The Recondites claim the body is still there... just that there is a disturbance."

---

I stare and stare at the tomb. The builders cleared sand away from the door and whoever opened it didn't bother to gather it and push it back, so the black mouth of the cairn is hovering over my head. A stick, a lever, one of the Recondites tells me, lies broken under the slab of the tomb. Torches, long since gone cold, are placed every so often around a campsite that the Recondites are picking through, looking for clues.

One of the hedgerow Recondites approaches me. Belen is his name, I remember. He was laughing that day, he is not right now. He looks as serious as... death. There is no light of laughter in his green cat-eyes.

"Recondite," I greet him.

"Lady," he replies quietly. "The corpse is intact and chained. There was a disturbance in the tomb, however."

I look at him blankly. Obviously there was a disturbance. The door didn't pry itself open.

The Recondite smirks slightly and I blush when I realize that I said that out loud.

"Apologies, warrior. I am merely... disturbed, myself." I bite back the hysterical giggle bubbling up.

Belen's next words make my laughter die immediately.

"Do you need to inspect the body?"

I suck in a deep lungful of the dry desert air. On the exhale, I reply, "yes."

Two Recondites, hovering nearby, shift their wings in a smooth motion and enter the maw of the tomb without any hesitation. I envy them for their flight. It would be a nice little trick to have.

As for my mundane, non-flying self, I use the ladder that Thane's group of males conveniently left behind.

Rung over rung I climb. At the top, one of the Recondites is waiting. His presence is comforting, to say the least. I am hesitant to step into the tomb. I am not a warrior. Carnage and rotting corpses are not part of my life. I deal with ghosts and bodies encased in flesh-eating acid sealed in tombs.

At the top of the ladder my gargoyles appear. I freeze at the top rung, watching my missing friends re-appear, crawling on all fours from every direction around the tomb.

Father had told me they were in the desert. I asked him everyday and everyday I received the same answer. I should have added this up and known that this is where they were for the past week.

My poor beasties. Wild-eyed, teeth bared, hissing and trembling. They are all covered in scratches. My sweet Harku looks like he has aged years in just a week. Alnue looks nearly the same. As far as I know, these two have never left the Temple in the past year.

"Lady, do you need help?" the Recondite is extending his hand down to me. I take his hand and finish climbing, immediately scooping up Alnue into my arms. He is sore, dark red welts and scabs cover his pebbled skin. Harku climbs under my robes, wrapping himself around my chest. Another gargoyle ducks under my robes to wrap around my legs. I have a feeling that's Momo. Mishu and Mushu gather themselves on my back, curling their faces into my hair. They are all shaking.

Fury scalds me. I don't even care that the two Recondites are looking at me curiously while I coo and pet my gargoyles. Let me look insane. I'll show them insane if I ever get my hands on whoever did this to my beasties.

I turn my eyes on corpse of the First. The First asshole, maybe. I may not know what he did to anger my father or if this male was just unlucky enough to be part of the wrong House. All I know is that the disgusting body on the altar hurt my gargoyles. Somehow, I know it was him.

I stomp over and, holding Alnue with one arm, I grasp the stake embedded in it's chest with my other hand. I twist it in the oozing, liquefying flesh. A groan echoes from the chest of the corpse.

Both Recondites leap backward, crashing into one another.

"Holy fuck, did you hear that?" one of them squeaks.

"Shit, shit, shit," the other curses over and over under his breath.

"Do either of you have a hammer?" I snap. Where did I leave mine? I stalk to the opening and shout down, "Patriarch! Did you bring the hammer?"

"By the gods, have mercy," one of the Recondites whispers behind me.

"Did it move?" I snap out.

"N-no, Lady," the first Recondite replies, recovering himself a bit. He is green around his mouth, his eyes look wide and horrified.

I march back and glare down at the corpse. He has Changed, partially shifted in his attempts at escape. He's also completely disgusting. A nightmare trying to come to life.

"Check the other tombs. All of them. Begin with the most recent. Any disturbances, any at all, and report them to me or to Patriarch Salbin."

"Yes, Lady," they reply. One of them says something out of the door. Two more Recondites crowd into the tomb, flying or climbing in and out depending on their ability to shift wings.

My mind is spinning, thinking, trying to recall every tidbit of information Patriarch Rimon gave me about the Forgotten. What should I do next?

"Watch for snakes," I call out. "Especially horned vipers."

"Yes, Lady," three male voices chime out. The Recondites have recovered, moving swiftly, assuredly.

"Do we seal the tomb, again, Lady?" One of the Recondites asks me.

I look at him. The dark male, Lier. He has the smallest bit of fear in his gaze, but also... trust. He trusts me to handle this.

Burn it

Tears prick my eyes. I haven't heard from my father since I entered the valley this morning, but I knew he was here, watching, silently fighting his own battle.

Burn it

I shake my head, sadly, gathering Alnue closer to me.

"Prepare a bonfire. Tonight we burn the corpse."

The Recondites pause before continuing their duties. Burning a body is sacrilege. The height of disrespect. A burned soul becomes trapped by the flames and becomes a demon in the Underworld... forever.

I'm more concerned that my father will have to put up with this soul for the rest of eternity than the damned himself.

I emerge from the tomb, walking the valley, whispering to Patriarch Salbin about the burning ritual. At the mouth of the valley I look out.

"What do you think happened to those males, Patriarch?" I ask softly. My Fated, for all that he is a betrayer, is missing in the sands. Lost, forever, for all I know.

He shakes his head. "Your father will tell us when it's time. For now, we must take care of this."

---

As night falls, the body is lit on fire. I can hear him screaming, yowls of fury as his soul is trapped by flame and soot.

I watch the flames. There is no sympathy in my heart and secretly I know it's because my Fated is lost because of this damned soul. I may not have the ability in my cold, somewhat-dead heart to ever forgive Thane for what he did to me, but to be lost in the sands...

The First House will have to answer to my father. And, whatever game the gods are playing, I know that this soul will never see the light of day again.

As the screams echoing in my head die out, my gargoyles leave my side for the first time in hours. They dance and cavort around the flames, looking as... well... demonic as possible, I suppose. If anyone else could see them they would know that these creatures came straight from the Underworld. Of course, Mushu pretending to urinate on the flames while Mishu and Momo try to stop him ruins the effect.

A hiss grabs my attention. A light-tan body, camouflaged almost perfectly with the sand, emerges from the shadows, snaking its way closer to the heat of the fire.

"Shall we kill it, Priestess?" Lier says in a careful monotone. Not one of the Recondites seems to be able to watch the fire for long.

Alnue strokes the head of the horned viper. I laugh softly. "Let the little creature warm itself, Recondite. Just keep clear of the fire."

"Not a problem, there," he mutters.

"Captain, there are nomads here. They're watching," Belen appears out of the shadows, his body covered in fur, fangs and claws descended. I can see now that he isn't a cat, maybe some sort of dog.

"Did they approach anyone? We'll have to ask them if they've seen anything," Lier replies.

"Aye, they spoke with Nantan. Told him that the wrong is being righted."

"Did they see where our missing friends disappeared to?" Lier asks.

The other Recondite snorts in derision. I listen, closely, to the reply. "Not a sign, anywhere. Said something about Death will provide for his daughter. When he pressed, they said 'what won't he provide, even warriors?'" he mimics with a grumble.

Both males turn their gazes on me. I raise an eyebrow. I have no idea what the nomads are talking about.

"We are the warriors," Lier states.

My lips twitch slightly. He sounds offended.

"Is your father going to start a war?" Belen asks me, suddenly.

My father is laughing, which makes me slightly uneasy. Is my father sending me soldiers to fight in the war that Priestess Deanna mentioned? Will the Recondites turn from friend to foe? They are frightening, these males. Unlike the warriors of the Houses, they are diverse in every way, but their dedication to each other and to serve the gods. Why would my father start a war with them if they serve him, in a way?

The laughter grows. I have this sudden image of the god, my father, bending over, slapping his knee and rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"Oh, Nateos, I wish you would just... tell me what your plan is," I snap out loud.

Another chortle is my answer.

"I'm on her side," Belen states suddenly. A clawed finger points at me. "The Flame's side. Yes, that's right, I said it."

Lier rolls his eyes as I watch them. "Only because she's a pretty female," he says slowly.

I blush.

"Aww, she's blushin-"

A crack echoes through the valley. Both Recondites leap into action, their body's synchronized as they surround me protectively.

"What is it?" Lier shouts.

"The tomb door snapped," another voice calls back, "right in half!"

Patriarch Salbin, silently standing by, snickers. "Don't flirt with the Daughter of Nateos."

Belen steps back, both hands in the air. "Point taken. I'm, ah, just going to walk over there and check... something. Over there."

Now I laugh, but my father is sullen and quiet.

---

Early in the morning I hear the voices. Whispers of grief, soft, muted. I open my eyes. It was too late to head back to the city last night, so we camped in the valley. Patriarch Salbin said that we couldn't be safer, surrounded by a dozen Recondites.

There is no threat in this valley. The corpse was burned to ash and he was what frightened me.

I kick off my thin blanket and swing my legs over the elevated cot. It's so high my toes just barely brush the sand below. It keeps out scorpions and snakes this way.

I slid to the ground, smiling at the mound of gargoyles still on the cot. Momo wakes up first, blinking his round, orange eyes at me sleepily. In the bright light I can see his black eye.

"Poor Momo," I murmur, kissing his head softly. "What happened to you?"

He hisses and flashed his teeth at the tomb of Arim of the First. It is sealed. Nothing to suggest it has been disturbed in any way. I inspected it as well as with the other remaining intact cairn from the First House. Everything was as it should be... for now.

I nod. "He is gone, now, Momo. But what of the males from the First House? Are they really lost out there?"

I tuck Momo in my arms. He settles in and looks out over the shimmering sands. Some of the Recondites are awake. Others are missing, on patrol, I assume.

"What is out there, stealing souls?" I ask. My eyes are fixed on the tomb of Arim the First. Did Thane mean to free his grandfather and mistake the other male for him? It is hard to tell dead, rotting corpses apart.

"That is a question for you to answer, Princess."

I spin around to meet blue eyes whitened from cataracts. A dark-skinned elderly female, a nomad by her eclectic dress and ropes of grey hair decorated with colorful beads and bits of bone.

"Good Morning," I say, inanely. I sound dumb, but I can tell right away that she is one of the most interesting shifters I have ever met in my life.

She cracks a smile, revealing pearly white teeth, the left canine missing. "Good Morn to you, too, Princess."

The voices have stopped speaking. There is nothing in my ears, not even the wind.

She looks around, smiling. I follow her gaze. There is nothing, no tombs, no valley, no Recondites or postites or gargoyles. Only me... and this elder nomad. I should be afraid. I should be terrified. But I feel nothing but a burning curiosity in my soul.

"Where am I?" I ask her. My voice sounds a bit hollow.

"You are in the Sands. Before shifters came here. Before the forests across the sea grew. Before the fish swam in the ocean. Before the city was built. Before the first demons and wild things were harnessed by the gods and paired with your people."

"Why did you bring me here?" I ask her.

"I bring a lesson to you, Princess, from the Mother."

My heart sinks. "A message about the war?"

She chuckles. "A lesson, Princess. Nothing to be afraid of. Just a lesson. A story, if you will."

"Alright," I say, reluctantly. There is something in the unnatural silence of the sands that makes me feel tired, as if I could lie down and fall asleep... forever.

"Stay awake, Princess Mara."

"I am," I whisper.

Her smile stretches wider. "Long ago, my dear, there were no living creatures. Nothing but these four things; the Sand, the Sky, the Sea, and the Below. Forever the Sand and Sea stretched on and on, with the Sky above and the Below underneath. They were lonely."

I nod my head, slowly.

"They made children. The Sky made a bird, the Father god. The Sand made a turtle, the Mother goddess. The Sea made a fish, the Water god. The Below made a demon, your father. "

I smile happily. Nateos is Below, then. And a demon is so much better than a bird or turtle or fish. We eat those. My father is amazing.

"The children made more children. The Tasuri, the Acera, the shifters and the skinwalkers. The new children needed food. They needed water. They needed homes and finally, they needed mates."

I cringe a little.

The elder nomad continues, "Love came into being. And, finally, War. Urto is the youngest god, but he is not as foolish as his elders believe him to be."

I press my fingers together, trying to wake them up. Numbness is stealing across my limbs. I feel tired.

"There are other gods, lesser beings, perhaps, but those six are whom your city is built around. Other creatures, far away, worship other gods and goddesses. Ones who have created their own children in their own corners of the world."

I look across the Sands eagerly, wondering if I can see them, those other creatures. Almost immediately, the languid feeling of exhaustion rolls over me again.

A soft chuckle greets my ears. "Now, my child. The Sands... the Sea and the Fire of Below, oh, and the Wind of the Sky. They are... entities. They do not need to be worshipped. They do not feel the same way we do. They are not gods or goddesses. They are much more and far less."

Her face is wavering, the bright light of the sands making me blink. Every time I close my eyes, it takes a little more effort to open them again.

"Fate is also such a thing. The strands of fate are plucked and pulled by the gods and goddesses, sometimes even by us lesser creatures. But remember, Princess, always remember, that Fate is something greater than all of us. You must make the decision to allow her strands to strengthen, or fade away. It is your choice. Remember this, Princess."

I blink my eyes sleepily. "Remember," I murmur.

"You choose the strands, Princess Mara. You decide which strands of Fate you desire."

---

I awaken on the cot. The voices, the rushing wind across the desert sand, the low murmur of male voices, returns. I suck in a deep breath. My gargoyles are still curled up on top of me.

"Well, there you are, sleepyhead," Patriarch Salbin smiles at me. "I thought we would have to pitch camp here again tonight, if you didn't awaken soon."

"Sorry," I say in a raspy voice.

"There, child. No harm done. It was... tiresome, yesterday." Patriarch pushes a mug of cool water into my hands.

"Are the nomads still here?" I ask after taking a sip.

Patriarch Salbin's smile fades. "No, they left, just after breakfast, actually."

"What's wrong?" I ask. He looks more stressed than usual.

"The Recondite Captain Lier was bitten last night. By three horned vipers. He did not survive."

I swallow down the guilt burning in m throat.