SOLAR KNIGHT

Once they were properly on their way through the wastes, it became clear why a guide was necessary. After a millennium of silence, the Centre Waste's open plains were now wracked by wind and dust storms. The inhabited areas were less susceptible to this on account of the diligently cultivated vegetation, but these accounted for only a paltry splatter of oases on a roiling dusty canvas.

"Wind's picking up," observed Kaellatch. Grit and sand were already filling the air, battering the party as it infiltrated every crease and crevice.

"Arancalen's only a little further," said Micaiah. "We should be able to reach shelter before it gets really bad."

Kaellatch shot Micaiah a glare and touched the wooden stock of her crossbow with her palm.

Azinax quietly wondered what 'really bad' looked like if this wasn't it, but restrained herself from asking. If Dain went missing in these turbulent conditions she doubted she would miss him, but the creepy elf was essential to the mission. She couldn't afford to lose her before reaching Arancalen. Azinax walked alongside Razorfang, letting him lead her along while Kaellatch sat perched on top in her usual spot. Razorfang's senses were the keenest of the three of them, but even with this advantage he almost collided with Micaiah, who had decelerated to a halt at the head of the group. She scratched experimentally at the ground with her shoe.

"Just a moment," she said, holding up a hand almost completely occluded by airborne debris. She tested another spot to the left, and then another, this time on the right. As she pawed desperately at the ground, Razorfang pinned his ears back and growled.

"I've got a scent," he said in Azinax's mind. "There's a big worm around here somewhere."

"Everyone, we need to get going, now," warned Azinax.

"But we can't just dash off into the storm," pointed out Micaiah. "I can't find the path as it is, so we can't afford to risk going further off it than we already are."

Before the argument could continue, the ground trembled. Razorfang threw himself sideways, ramming Azinax and almost flinging Kaelatch from his back. An enormous violet shape exploded out of the ground, totally engulfing the patch of ground where the three of them had been standing. Micaiah screamed. The creature, its massive form silhouetted by the pinprick light of the sun, began to fall down back the earth, threatening to crush Dain where he stood at the rear of the group. He held up his hands, his thumbs crossed and his fingers splayed, causing a gout of flame to pour forth, splashing against the worm's skin as it moved more like a collapsing tower than an animal. As the flames scorched its hide, the worm spasmed as it fell, landing in a contorted S shape just a little short of where Dain was standing. It flopped down in front of him with a puff of dust and Dain found himself staring down its cavernous gullet. Circles of dripping teeth receded into darkness. He ran.

At the other end of the worm, Azinax drew her sword. Razorfang bounded between it and Micaiah, and squared up alongside his companion. The worm's stinging tail lunged at them, and Azinax deflected the writhing tip with her sword.

"Everyone stop!" called out Kaellatch. "It sees using sound! If you stay still, it can't see you!"

"It already knows where I am," said Azinax as Razorfang dodged another jab from the worm's tail. Azinax slashed at the worm's side, leaving an oozing scrape, but it was like trying to dissect an elephant with a paring knife. Razorfang backed away, and almost tripped over Micaiah as she sat still stunned on the ground behind him. This reminded Azinax that her guide still existed, and she kicked her without taking her eyes off the worm.

"Get your act together and get out of here!" Azinax urged Micaiah. "Or help. Or do something, anything!"

"It navigates by sound..." Micaiah rambled dreamily.

"Yes, I know..." began Azinax. "You know what? Forget it!"

"I'm going to try something," she then told Razorfang through their bond. "Make sure Kaellatch gets away if it doesn't work out."

"Understood," Razorfang replied.

Azinax stepped away from the group. As she did so, there was a muted flash in the vicinity of the worm's head, followed by a wave of heat. Clearly Dain was still around. She wasn't sure if that would make her plan easier or harder.

"Oi, over here!" she yelled, jumping and stamping amidst the eddies of dust and grit. "Hey! Hey!"

The worm turned towards her and surged forward like an avalanche. Then it stopped. An ineffable will shook it, and it found itself consumed with an inexplicable sensation it had not felt since it was a tiny thread in the palm of a kobold's hand. The worm was afraid. Quite how the tiny biped in front of it could possibly pose a threat was too much for the its primitive brain to ponder, yet it instinctively felt that it did, and it rumbled its distress like distant thunder.

"Try and get Micaiah to snap out of it," Azinax ordered Razorfang over their mental link. "Any moment now this thing's going to remember that it's bigger than me."

"I'm trying," thought back Razorfang, dragging Micaiah along with her collar in his teeth. Razorfang yanked a little harder, and this lifted Micaiah out of her reverie.

"Silence," Micaiah whispered, and the world obeyed. The entire battlefield was immediately doused in a dreamlike, underwater torpidity. Razorfang bared his teeth but did not snarl. The worm's seismic overtures ceased. Though the dust still swirled, the howling wind stopped.

Micaiah waved, then pointed. There was no way for her to know if the message was understood, and no time to check. She stumbled along the path she had just rediscovered, glancing back at intervals. To her relief, one large shape and two smaller ones were following along behind her, while the worm's towering form remained behind, stranded in place by panic and confusion.

Stepping out of the zone of silence of like walking through a wall as the howls of wind engulfed them once more, but none of them faltered until their enemy was far behind. The ground underfoot changed from lifeless dust to soil and patchy grass, and though the gale was blowing as fiercely as before, the dust was starting to clear.

A shadow loomed up ahead on the horizon, and Micaiah quickened her pace.

"That's it!" she told them. "That's Arancalen! We're here!"

Now out of danger and in territory she recognised, Micaiah picked her way over to a stone building with bright yet tattered banners with embroidered text that had long ago been rendered illegible. She pried the door open, and Azinax behind her ushered everyone inside.

"Maniac," muttered Kaellatch, side-eyeing Azinax.

The room they were in was a foyer that attached to a main living area. Micaiah led them through with an attitude of familiarity.

Dain pulled out a chair in the next room and flopped into it. He pulled off his gloves, exposing fingers covered with a sheen of red scales and tipped with gnarled claws. Then he took off his goggles and set them on the table. His eyes underneath were orange and clearly reptillian. He pinched one glove by the fingers and slapped it against his leg, knocking a spray of dust out onto the floor. Micaiah stared at him incredulously.

"I'm shaking the dust out," he said. "It's got into everything."

Azinax did a mental tally of group members and their status. Everyone was still alive and all else being equal likely to remain that way for the immediate future.

"I take it we're free to remain here, at least until the storm clears?" she asked Micaiah.

"Of course!" said Micaiah. "The archaeologists used to live here and after they moved out..."

"Spare me the history lesson," cut in Azinax. "There's something I need to check with the courier's guild. Would they be operating in this weather?"

"The branch would be open, but I doubt anything would get through until after the storm," said Micaiah.

"I just care if it's open," said Azinax. "Where is it?"

"It's further along the path we were on before, near the city centre," said Micaiah. "It has a landing pad on top that's a modern addition, and it's covered in pink banners made to look like flowers. Even in this weather, you can't miss it." Micaiah had barely finished her sentence when Azinax was already stepping through the door, letting in a swirl of dust and sand as she exited. Micaiah shook the dust from her hair. "She's a real joy to be around, isn't she?"

"An acquired taste," said Kaellatch, brushing sand out of Razorfang's fur. Dain snorted in amusement.

Fighting against the erratic gusts that threatened to choke and unbalance her, Azinax waged war against the elements, relenting only when the tall, garishly decorated courier's guild branch office faded into view. She forced the door open against the wind. As she slipped through it, it slammed with a bang that rattled the entire building. The clerk sitting at the front desk woke up with a jolt, peering around with a puzzled expression. He was a decrepit, elderly elf who looked almost old enough to remember the Apocalypse War, with crescent-shaped cataracts and the general air of someone filling in time in Lagyron's waiting room. Azinax approached the desk.

"Any messages for 'Azinax'?" she asked.

"Let's see, shall we?" said the elf, pulling out a box of slates from under the desk. As he began to finger through them, a vulturine black-and-white-feathered aarakocra dropped down from the upper floor and pushed the elf back, standing over the box protectively.

"Stars above..." sputtered the elf. "Bones, explain yourself right now!"

"That one's blacklisted!" spat Bones the aarakocra, standing tall on the desk with his feathers puffed out and his wings outstretched as far as the confines of the room would allow. "She's one of Tellius's lot!"

"This? This again? We're still at this?" complained Azinax. "Tellius is dead. Has been for years. The blacklist only extends to close associates because the marked individual might use them as go-betweens. That doesn't apply here since, you guessed it, he's dead."

"So they say," huffed Bones.

"What do you want from me?" pressed Azinax. "A writ from the grand praetor? Tellius's skull in a glass case with a little commemorative plaque? I'm all ears."

"She does have a point, you know," said the old elf. "Proxy blacklisting lapses once the primary individual is removed from the list, and dying is certainly one way of getting your name struck off. Since General Tellius is officially dead, we've no right to stop her. Look at this way, if the other branches are enforcing the ban, she won't have any mail to receive anyway."

"Fine then," said Bones, "but I claim no responsibility for any of it. If anything comes of this it's all on you!" As he uttered this last remark he pointed accusingly at the old elf, then hopped down from the desk and began climbing up a ladder bolted to the wall leading back up to the loft. The ground floor was too cramped for him to comfortably fly.

"Now that that's out of the way, let's see what we have," said the elf, picking up seemlessly where he had left off. "You mustn't be too harsh on Bones, he just takes his job very seriously... There it is!" He plucked out one of the slates and and took it with him to a back room; when he returned he had a small rolled up scroll in his other hand.

"Here you go," he said, handing it over. "It arrived only yesterday. Sorry about Bones, he just takes his job very seriously, you know?"

"What's through there?" asked Azinax, pointing to a door on the left.

"Oh, that's just a side-room," said the old elf. "We don't use it for much, and no one's in it at the moment. You can wait in there for the storm to clear, if you like."

Azinax stepped through into the side-room and closed the door behind her. A set of table and chairs that looked like a technical exercise in carving ornamental swirls sat in the centre, while a window covered with translucent parchment let in scant illumination. Azinax pulled a chair next the to window, broke the seal of Antikasmai's priesthood, and began reading her message. It was from Brent. At first, she was impressed at how he managed use so many words to say nothing at all. Then, as she re-read it, she recognised her initial mistake. She marked individual characters with her thumbnail and reshuffled the words in her mind until at last the coded message became clear:

Dain Giltflame is a threat to the stability of the fiefdoms. Use him as you see fit during the mission and get whatever information you can about his real plan, but once he's of no further value to Essokia, kill him. Try to avoid leaving evidence of your involvement if you can, but do not let him escape under any circumstances.

Once she had memorised the secret message word for word, Azinax crumpled the page and compressed it into a tiny ball. As she held it in her fist, there was a flash and a pop as it was incinerated by holy fire. She let the ash fall through her fingers and listened to the wind. The wind stopped. She listened to the silence. The clerk in the next room started to snore.

Would've been nice to know about this earlier, she thought to herself. Probably could have got the worm to eat him, but it's too late for that now. He'll die like the rest of Essokia's enemies regardless.