Lenny couldn’t remember. The Gordo Clan hadn’t taken the mask off of him in days, or at least what felt like days. The sun was out now, but the war sage couldn’t remember if there was ever a time when it had set. Nighttime was a dream to him, a fantasy he once believed in. Now all he knew was oppressive heat and the chemical stink-taste of whatever they were giving him to keep his visions coming.

  He had a better spot on the elephant at least. The burning chains no longer restrained him.

  Instead, he sat directly behind Jackmaw Yapyap, who lounged between Bantu’s shoulders as he ate a preserved leg. It wasn’t something the Gordo clan had prepared, Lenny thought. Somewhere deep in his memory, he thought he could remember the terrified cries of a family as the clan ransacked a farm on a town’s edge. He hoped Jackmaw was eating one of their animals, but he had a sinking feeling that it might not be.

  The boy was afraid to look up. He knew he’d see the mega vulture casting a shadow over them. The Gordo clan wasn’t in any hurry to follow it today, however. Jackmaw had promised his clan something, and even though the giant bird was trying to pull them to the south like an out of control kite, the warlord steered them north. Lenny didn’t think they had any sense of anything at all, let alone direction, but he was surprised to find that Jackmaw really was leading them somewhere promising. Not to a battle or a town of innocents, but somewhere the clan could rest easy for a bit.

  They were wandering the sandy wastes for so long, Lenny couldn’t form a mental image of anything other than raiders and sand dunes. He was looking far ahead of Bantu, deep in the spectral mirage of desert heat waves, when he noticed a hole in the earth. It wasn’t as large as the canyon that held Agua Fria, but it was huge. The land around it seemed to be an oasis, lush with the green sprouts of grass the elephant enjoyed. There were trees that Lenny didn’t recognize growing tall and pluming with sharp palms. A few of them even bore fruit.

  As soon as it came into view, the other raiders gained a fury similar to their drug fueled war rage. Their excited cries filled the air, and they charged past the elephant. Lenny watched the wave of them descend on the oasis, polluting it like a maiden being deflowered by a legion of marauders. They were rolling in the grass, climbing the trees for fruit, and running to the edge of the whole in the center to stare into it. Only Shi-Toh remained to walk alongside the elephant, to Jackmaw’s displeasure.

  “They are in quite the spirits, Lord.”

  “Catch up, Shi-Toh. You’re stinking up my elephant.”

  Shi-Toh smiled but didn’t move to rejoin the clan. He ignored the jab made by his master and continued. “Do you believe the spawning season is over?”

  “Stop talking,” Jackmaw said, and he rubbed his eyes as if to blind himself. “Please stop fucking talking.”

  An eyebrow cocked above the onyx glasses. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was quickly shushed by Jackmaw. Then the warlord saw what he was about to point out to him. There was someone else in their oasis. Cowering behind a naked berry bush, a haggard man watched the clan, wide eyed and afraid. His clothes didn’t imply he was a raider. They were rags of canvas crudely woven into a tunic. His hair was wild, and it matched his beard in length and intensity. He was a desert hermit. One who had found refuge in a tiger’s den while its resident was out.

  Jackmaw let out a sharp whistle, and the raiders who heard it that far out turned. He pointed out the hermit, and in an instant, they subdued him.

  The elephant finally caught up to them. Jackmaw fell from its back, shocking the earth like an artillery shell as he landed. The hermit was being presented to him like an offering to a bloodthirsty god. Two raiders held his arms and stretched until they might pop out of their sockets. The rest crowded around, giving the hermit no hope of escape.

  The man was pale and harshly naked below the tunic that draped to his thighs. Thin legs struggled to stand in the presence of the warlord. Lenny could hear the hermit's teeth chatter, and in his drugged state, he could feel them too. He could feel the cold chill that numbed his spine and the sweat that trailed down him in fat blobs. Deep in the recesses of his grey matter, he thought maybe he could sense his thoughts as well, and they were so full of sorrow and desperation, he had to turn away from the man.

  Jackmaw went to the berry bush. It was stripped of much of the fruit, only leaving the orbs that had turned bitter and shriveled. He picked one, rolling it between his fingers with a frown, then he popped it in his mouth. There was a loud gulp as he swallowed it and shook his head. “That’s a bummer. Did you guys know those were my favorite?”

  The crowd of raiders stirred, giggling to themselves in anticipation. They hadn’t expected an execution today, but now they had dinner and a show.

  “I was really looking forward to these.” Jackmaw watched the hermit squirm. “Did… did you eat them all?”

  The hermit shook his head.

  “Of course not. But you did eat all the good ones, didn’t you?”

  Again, he began to shake his head, but something stopped him.

  Jackmaw shook his head this time. He waved off the raiders, and Lenny felt the hermit fill with hope. There was a warmth that rose from his belly into his chest, but his heart still froze. The warlord took him by the shoulder and led him to the hole. The clan all followed behind.

  “Don’t worry about it. They literally grow on trees,” Jackmaw laughed. The hermit stared at the hole. “It’s no big deal. I’m sure you were lost and hungry. You just have to pay for it. What do you have to offer?”

  The hermit’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Tears welled in his eyes. Across the deep gouge in the land, the great mega vulture landed and pulled in its wings. It watched the hermit with hungry red eyes, and to Lenny, it looked like it was grinning. The hermit turned away from Jackmaw to gaze in awe at it, then he looked back when the red devil began to speak again.

  “Well… what about your little dress?” Jackmaw poked the hermit in the chest, and he wheeled backwards as if he was hit by a javelin. The edge of the hole crumbled beneath his heel, and Lenny heard the echoing sound of stones splash into water. “It won’t make up for eating my favorite fruit in my own garden, but it’s a start.”

  “Please don’t kill me,” the hermit sobbed. His matted beard shook like a tumbleweed in a tornado. “Please… I was so hungry.”

  “Hungry? My friends are hungry.” There was a whistle, then a cheer as the Gordo clan came alive. When it came to Jackmaw, he never took an opportunity to disappoint his followers. He made a few more threats until the poor old man was pissing himself. Jackmaw didn’t seem interested in his tunic after that. The old man screamed as he was lifted in the air and thrown into the pit.

  Lenny jumped from the back of the elephant and pushed his way past the raiders in time to see the old man hit a shimmering blue pool. The water was crystal clear and inviting save for whatever dwelled inside. As soon as the hermit hit the water, squirming giants descended upon him like great worms pulling him apart in savage bites. The blue water developed a dark patch where the man had been, but even that was consumed when one of the creatures swam up and drank it down. In less than a minute, the only evidence the hermit was ever here at all was the naked berry bush.

  The Gordo clan was a light with excitement, and they began to make efforts to descend the hole towards whatever sea monsters had made this cave their home. Lenny barely had time to comprehend what had taken place when Shi-Toh took him by the shoulders and led him away from the chaos.

  “This will only cloud your visions, sage. Don’t concern yourself with emotions for common people. You serve the king of the world.”

  Lenny got one last glance at the pool and could have sworn he saw a shred of brown canvas floating among the beasts. If he had any tears left, he might have shed one for the stranger.

  The Gordo clan spent the rest of the day being oddly normal. Lenny had become accustomed to the anarchy they reveled in, so when a calm overtook them, it was like a pack of hyenas being pacified by spell. The women of the clan took their baskets to the garden and harvested multiple bounties of various fruits. The men descended the cave and climbed to a shore near the pool. There, they prepared to fish out all of the sea beasts that populated the pool. The fish were so aggressive, they took to their bait easily. It took all day, but that evening, the clan enjoyed a feast of fish and fruit while they swam and played like children.

  Lenny stayed on the shore close to the bonfire that cooked all of their meals. It was warm, and they finally allowed him to take off the mask. The flames licked his sun-starved face, but he didn’t mind. The boy stared out at the pool, unphased. It was a wonder how they were so comfortable swimming in it.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Near the fire, the fish were lined up in a row, ready to be butchered, but it would have been a stretch to call them fish. They had fat bodies and long necks with thick bones all throughout. Flipper appendages were folded back like unused sails. The face was the most terrible part. Glinting silver eyes stared out of dark green skin and their mouths were the size of melons full of razor-sharp teeth.

  One was positioned in a way that it stared at Lenny. He remembered the men of the clan pulling it out of the lapping water with a net. It took almost ten of them, and they still struggled. Even when it was out, it swung its huge neck around and snapped at them. They were having fun taunting it and dodging as it hissed through nostrils between its eyes. It didn’t go down until Jackmaw Yapyap put an end to their games by punching it in the head. Still, Lenny watched it, hoping it didn’t wake back up and start attacking them. It sent a shiver down his spine.

  It was the tattooed Miss Minnie that brought him a leaf with a fish fillet and some berries. She had a sour face beneath her tangled hair, but she never went anywhere without twisting her wrinkles into angry knots it seemed. She sat next to him with her own leaf of food and chewed a whole flipper with her nubby black teeth. “Eat,” she ordered.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “And I don’t care. I cooked it for you, so you’ll eat it.”

  He knew he had to eat. His robe hid his frail, bony shape from the rest of them, but he couldn’t hide his growling stomach. Lenny told himself he’d only eat the berries, but after the first one, his body went into autopilot, and he even ate the leaf his food was delivered on. The fish was surprisingly tasty. He didn’t mind that there was one staring him down, he asked for seconds.

  “That’s the spirit. You need your strength.”

  “Why? Aren’t we on vacation?”

  Miss Minnie fought with a bite, tearing away hunks of fat from bones that looked like oversized fingers. “We never stay here long. Jackmaw rewards his men with a trip to the place every so often to keep their hopes up, usually after spawning season, when the eats are good. I give it a couple days.”

  That made sense. Lenny had always heard of vacations, but being a transient fortune teller didn’t leave much downtime. It was nice to plant his feet somewhere and know that he wouldn’t have to be on the back of Bantu for a while. Something in Miss Minnie’s words bothered him, however.

  “You said you made this? What happened to Ylva?”

  Miss Minnie frowned. Ylva was the last slave left from Donavon’s Point. The rest had withered and bent, left as food for the vulture when they finally collapsed. The girl was close to Lenny’s own age, and he was beginning to grow fond of her blonde hair and soft features. As much as he could remember, she was still alive when they left camp that morning.

  “Jackmaw let her go.”

  “Maybe he’ll let me go next,” Lenny chuckled. He was caught in Miss Minnie’s glare and pulled his knees to his chest.

  “You’re too important, kid. Besides, the bird got her before she even got over the horizon.”

  Almost as if he could remember it all at once, he saw the bird swoop and carry the girl away screaming until they were just a speck in the aura of the sun. He could see it from Ylva’s eyes, and the terror she felt twisted his stomach and wet his eyes. He only picked at the berries on his second plate.

  When the moon was high above the hole in the ground and the waves turned a silver sheen, Lenny was summoned to Jackmaw Yapyap’s tent. Moonlit reflections danced along its surface like ghosts, and as he approached, he felt a burning in his head like it was already rejecting the clan’s drugs. He held it together and pulled the flap aside with a deep breath. Inside, Jackmaw and his retinue still feasted on their private dinners. While his men fought over every bit of fat and muscle, Jackmaw and his men dined on choice cuts of the animals.

  It felt strange not having the slaves fanning them, but they didn’t seem to mind. People were a luxury to the Gordo clan, and when they were spent, they were cast aside. Lenny was just waiting his turn at this point. He had forgotten what Krav and Rufus’s voices even sounded like, and he feared it was too late to be saved. His only hope now was to die painlessly, but the vision of Ylva drained that last bit of light.

  As soon as he stepped into the middle of the feast, Jackmaw set his blood red eyes on him and smiled. The warlord lounged in a loincloth that revealed every rippling muscle beneath his red skin. For some reason, he still kept his mask on. Lenny wondered if he had ever seen it off.

  The boy cleared his throat. “You wanted me… Lord?”

  The retinue began to laugh at that and tease Lenny like he had just told Jackmaw he had a crush him. The devil waved them off, the smile not leaving his face. “Something’s been bothering me. We’ve had an extra cushion in the tent for a while now. Do you know why that is?”

  “Did we lose someone?”

  “That’s what I was just talking to Dansk about.” Jackmaw sent a thumb towards one of his lieutenants, a mohawk sporting man who only wore a chapped duster coat and trousers. “He had a good idea, though. What was it again, Dansk?”

  The lieutenant nearly choked on the fish, and he spoke with a mouthful of it spilling from his teeth. “So, we were talking about-”

  “Shut the hell up and tell him your idea.”

  “Right. Well, I says to the lord, ‘what if your sage boy can find out who it is by sitting on it?’ like ass telepathy.” Dansk howled with laughter and chunks of meat sprayed from his mouth.

  “What do you think, war sage? Can you perform a little ass telepathy?”

  Lenny swallowed hard. He didn’t want to stand up for himself and get hit, but he also hated when he was made to be a spectacle. The last dose of drugs had worn off earlier that evening, but he was willing to entertain them. At least he could sit on the cushion and tell them ass telepathy wasn’t a thing.

  There were oohs and ahs as he went and sat on the only vacant cushion. They all stared at him like a comedy club waiting for a punchline, some even giggled preemptively. It was nice to have a seat, the boy thought. It was a fleeting luxury in the wasteland. To his horror, he did get a vision.

  As soon as he sat down, there was a jolt of electricity from the pillow, and he thought the retinue had pranked him. He waited for their howls, but nothing came. In fact, it was so quiet, he thought he was losing his mind. The tent dimmed until he couldn’t see anything but the fire and the pillow underneath him. Someone walked around the edge of the fire, and as soon as he saw her, he knew she was Gordo clan. A colorful skirt made of feathers and body paint gave that away. She looked lost, and she silently screamed for someone. Then she saw him.

  Immediately, he knew who she was. Not because he’d met her before, but in that one look, she told him. She was the Great Macaw, one of Jackmaw’s lieutenants. She was lost, left behind in their raid on Agua Fria. But she didn’t give up her search for Jackmaw, she was travelling the wasteland looking for him… and she had friends.

  Others materialized in the haze. From the shadows, a wrinkling beast stepped out, and its rider reached a hand down to lift her up to its back. He was thin and tall, but he apparently had a wiry strength to him as he hoisted her up in one attempt. Two guards walked with him, their weapons pointed to the infinite black in the sky. Then there was a beast of a man, a rival to Jackmaw in width, but not height. He spat on the floor and smacked the beast on the ass to get it to move. It snorted and turned, wandering back into the black. But on the back of that beast…

  “Krav?” Lenny asked. It was him. His brother was riding on the back of the beast staring at him. But his eyes were scabbed over, and he stared at Lenny blindly. They watched each other as the veil of darkness consumed the others, then Krav began to go as well. “Krav! Wait!”

  There was a single sound, a machine hissing, and Lenny thought he remembered that noise. There was only one place in the wasteland he had heard grinding metal like that. The gates of Kiva Noon.

  “Krav, please! Wait!” he sobbed. His brother disappeared into the dark without a word. Lenny jumped from the cushion.

  “Krav!” he yelled. He was back in the warmth of the tent, and the punchline finally landed. The raiders were screaming their laughter and throwing scraps of food at him. It took him a moment to return to reality, and when he finally did, he pretended he was wiping food from his face rather than tears. Jackmaw and Shi-Toh were the only ones who didn’t laugh.

  The warlord whistled and silenced the rest of them. He leaned back in his own cushion, stretching his legs and propping himself up with one elbow. “What’d you see?”

  “The cushion belongs to the Great Macaw. You left her behind at Agua Fria and I think she’s in Kiva Noon now.”

  There were whispers among the lieutenants. They had forgotten about their jokes now as they realized that one of their own was unaccounted for, and the grand apothecary at that. It had been quite some time since Agua Fria and not a single raider had noticed her absence. None besides Shi-Toh, apparently.

  “I told you,” he whispered loudly to Jackmaw. The warlord raised a hand as if to backhand him but was satisfied when he winced and retreated to his cushion.

  “And who’s Krav?”

  “My brother. I think… I think he’s with her.”

  Jackmaw laughed his devil’s laugh and clapped a hand over his belly. “If he was in Agua Fria there’s a good chance he’s dead, you know? Unless…” There was sudden realization. The warlord reached a finger into his mask and scratched his head. Shi-Toh cocked an eyebrow over his onyx sunglasses. For once, Jackmaw had put two-and-two together faster than he had, and there was a biting shame in his gut that he had been outwitted by such an idiot. Jackmaw Yapyap sat up in his position now and looked at his consul. “What are the odds it’s him?”

  “Low, Lord. I wouldn’t get my hopes up. We would do well to retrieve the Macaw, however. She’s the only one of us capable of manufacturing the black powder.”

  “Right… and our drugs haven’t been as good.”

  Shi-Toh sighed. “Of course, Lord, as well as our intoxicant supply.”

  A spark of hope lit in Lenny. It had been so long since he had felt it this strongly. Whatever the odds Shi-Toh thought they had, Lenny had seen the vision and he hadn’t. The two were travelling together now, and that meant he and the Gordo clan had mutual goals. All he had to do was get back to Kiva Noon and he could reunite with his brother. He had no idea that Jackmaw also wanted a reunion.

  “He’s travelling with the Macaw and they’re heading to Kiva Noon?” Jackmaw asked. Lenny nodded. “Then vacations over! Let’s go get my apprentice!”

  The tent filled with groans and pleas as some of the retinue began to pack up and the rest tried desperately to remain in place. Jackmaw seemed relieved to find out who owned the pillow, Lenny thought. The warlord even crossed the tent, knocking over plates of food and cups still half full. He was heading right for the boy, but for some reason he didn’t cower this time. He didn’t feel Jackmaw’s usual presence of malice overwhelm him. Instead, he approached Lenny and placed one of his massive hands on his shoulder. “I doubted you, kid. Maybe Shi-Toh had a good idea for once after all. When I get my hands on your brother, he’s going to be my most prized possession. The war sage and the apprentice warlord, what a family.”

  That was when Lenny finally realized it. Jackmaw wasn’t happy to get the Great Macaw back at all. He cared little for the grand apothecary. The warlord wanted his prize, and Lenny had just told him exactly how to get it. The boy felt his legs give out, and he fell back to the cushion. He didn’t know the extent of the mistake he had just made.