It only took her an hour or so to reach the trading outpost encircling the small lake, bright lamplight causing the outpost to glow like the burning rim of an eclipsed sun.
Crouching behind the lip of a dune, Lara examined the buildings. They were stone, nearly windowless structures like those on the compound where she’d been raised. Chimes made of colored glass hung from the rooflines, filling the air with a gentle music, and in the well-lit grove between the buildings and the water, panels of colored silk hung from the branches. Valcottan influence, the border between the two nations as undefined here as it was along the coast, although far less contested. Neither nation much cared about a few miles of sand, or at least, not enough to march an army into the desert to fight over it. As such, Jerin was an outpost of both nations or none, depending on who you asked.
Moving closer, Lara eyed the people in the streets, the business of the outpost reflecting the nocturnal habits of those who traveled the caravan route. Many were her countrymen, recognizable in their close-fitting trousers and boots and coats, whereas the Valcottans favored voluminous garments that cinched at wrists, ankles, and waists, leather sandals strapped to their feet. The Valcottans also possessed significantly darker complexions, their curly brown hair either cut short or wrapped into tight knots on the tops of their heads.
They all moved about in groups, and Lara noticed that they gave each other a wide berth despite the unwritten rule of peace in the oasis. A sign, she thought, that the conflict between Maridrina and Valcotta was reaching a fevered pitch. Which would only work to Aren and Ithicana’s favor.
Moving at a slow run toward the outpost, she stopped when two barking dogs burst from between buildings, heading straight toward her. Extracting the pepper that she’d found on the compound—and had brought with her for just this purpose—she tossed it in the animals’ faces as they neared. The dogs immediately began to sneeze, pawing at their muzzles, allowing Lara to duck into the narrow space between two buildings unmolested.
And there she paused.
There was a scuffle of noise, and someone opened a door. “What’s all that racket about, you cursed creatures? Get back here!”
Lara jumped onto a barrel and reached up for the lip of the roof. Pulling herself silently on top, she crawled along the flat surface until she reached the opposite side where she could survey the comings and goings.
Her weapons master, Erik, had described the oasis to her once, and that information, along with what she could see, were the limit of her knowledge. Many of the buildings were lodgings for travelers, though some were private residences of those who permanently made their home in the oasis. There were several establishments that purveyed food and drink and entertainment, a smithy, a series of stables, and a number of brightly lit buildings that seemed to provide necessary services to those who crossed back and forth across the desert.
There were primarily men moving through the narrow streets, but Lara caught sight of a few Valcottan women, heads held high and proud, the staffs they favored as weapons gripped in their hands. There were people of other nations as well, identifiable by their garments and complexions. None appeared to be Ithicanian, but that meant little because she knew how easily Aren’s people adopted disguises.
The savory scent of cooking meat wafted past Lara’s nose, her attention flicking a few buildings down to where a woman stood next to a grill, which was loaded with skewers. Her mouth watered even as her stomach growled. Water first, she decided, turning her focus to the darkness of the lake beyond. She’d have to cross three streets to reach the trees, all well-lit, and her being alone would draw immediate attention.
Which meant she needed a distraction.
Fire was the obvious choice, but as though he were sitting next to her, Lara felt Aren’s judgment at the idea of destroying people’s homes or livelihoods for the sake of a distraction. Frowning, Lara considered her options as she eyed a group of camels tethered at the edge of the town, their backs laden with goods and supplies, a single boy standing watch over them. But there was only open space around them, making it next to impossible to sneak up to the animals.
Below her, the dogs had finally recovered from the pepper, yipping as they ran up and down between the buildings.
Which gave Lara an idea.
She waited for an opportune moment, then rose and leapt the gap to the neighboring building. Then the next. Easing up to the front of the house, she listened to the woman humming as she went back and forth between tasks inside and rotating the grilling meat. Unsheathing her sword, Lara held the tip of the blade, waiting. When the woman went back inside, she leaned over the edge, hooking her sword hilt under one of the skewers, sliding it up until the meat was secured. Then she carefully lifted it and scuttled to the rear of the home.
Unable to resist, she pushed a piece into her mouth, not caring when the meat burned her tongue. Pulling the rest of the meat loose, she abandoned the skewer and lowered her hand between the houses, immediately catching the dogs’ attention.
Wincing as they barked and jumped, Lara hurried to the opposite side of the house, the dogs following. Waiting until she knew they were watching her, she threw the meat onto the laden backs of the camels.
The dogs bolted after the prize, the camels jerking up their heads in alarm as the animals raced toward them, the air filling with their loud bellows.
As one, the camels surged, pulling their tether loose and galloping into the town, the dogs in hot pursuit. Their minder shouted, trying to catch at their leads, but it was a lost cause, and soon the streets were wild with men and women chasing after the camels, the air filled with shouts.
Making sure her scarf was secure over her hair, Lara leapt from the building and joined in the chaos, weaving her way through street after street before ducking into the shadows of the grove. Moving carefully through the foliage, she hurried toward the lake.
To keep the oasis clean and pure, stones had been carefully placed so that the water could be reached without stepping into it. Dropping to her knees, Lara reached down to fill a waterskin. One after another she filled them, then made her way back to the edge of the grove.
In the distance, she could make out angry shouts, the merchants whose camels she’d spooked berating the owner of the dogs. They were Maridrinian, judging from the accents, whereas the dogs’ owner was Valcottan. More and more voices joined the fray, the incident tipping the fragile peace between the people of the two nations, and soon fists began to fly. More people came running from all directions, and Lara winced, realizing that fire might have caused less damage than the fight she’d instigated.
But there was nothing to do about it now.
Lara joined with those shouting and running toward the altercation, which was in the market. The camels had overturned several stalls, and there were more than a dozen brawling men adding to the chaos.
Weaving among the people, Lara snatched up a sack of dried apricots that had been knocked from a market stand and a handful of small buns from a tray on another, everyone too distracted by the fight to notice her theft. Grabbing a few more items of foodstuff, Lara stepped back between two stalls, creeping behind a row of them.
All she had to do now was get out of town, intercept Aren and Jack, and then—
Meaty hands reached through the back of the stall, closing on her forearms. And a deep voice said, “Here’s our little thief.”