The Summer Palace Read Online Free Page B

douse the fire he was tracking at any moment.
    He had expected to see flocks of
ara
in the distance, as he had during his previous visit, but he did not.
    His throat ached, his lips dried and cracked, his eyes stung from the wind. He could feel the skin on his hands and face drying out, but could think of nothing he might do to relieve the discomfort and lessen the damage. He knew there must be water somewhere, or the Uplanders couldn’t live here, but he had no idea how to find it.
    He walked the sun down, and dusk was thickening around him, stars spreading overhead, when he finally thought he could make out the tents of an Uplander camp far ahead. He tried to quicken his pace, but his reserves of energy were running very low after three long, weary days of running, climbing, and walking, and all he did was transform his steady walk into awkward stumbling. The thin, dry air seemed to snatch every drop of moisture away.
    The light and his strength gave out almost simultaneously, and he collapsed in a heap on the rough grass, still a mile or more away from the camp. His throat was agonizingly dry, his belly painfully empty; he could not gather enough voice to call out. Instead he lay exhausted on the hard ground, and fell asleep, much as he had in the canyon.
    He was awakened by something prodding him in the side; he rolled over to find two young men staring down at him, their faces invisible in the darkness, their expressions unreadable. They were little more than dark outlines against the starry splendor of the night sky.
    One of the men had just poked him with the butt of a spear.
    Sword tried to croak a greeting, but his throat was still much too dry. He forced himself to swallow, hoping to collect enough moisture to speak.
    â€œAre you all right?” one of the young men said, speaking the Winterhome dialect of Barokanese with an odd, breathy accent that was both like and unlike the Winterhome lilt.
    Sword nodded.
    â€œWere you looking for us?” the other man asked, gesturing toward the orange glow of the Uplander camp.
    Sword nodded again.
    â€œWe saw you silhouetted against the sunset, and when you fell, we came to see why,” he explained.
    â€œPlease take no offense at this question,” the first said. “Would you like us to help you?”
    Sword nodded a third time.
    The young man slung his spear on his back, and he and his companionbent down to help Sword to his feet. It took a moment to find the strength to stand, but once he was upright, Sword was able to walk on his own, while the two Uplanders walked on either side, ready to catch him if he fell.
    The darkness and his exhaustion kept them moving slowly, giving Sword time to look at his surroundings.
    The plain stretched away in every direction; in the darkness it seemed to vanish into infinity and blend into the black sky above. The stars seemed closer and more numerous here than he had ever seen them before; he wondered if the thinner air had something to with that.
    Despite the darkness he had no trouble finding his footing; the plain here was as flat and featureless as anywhere.
    Ahead of them was the Uplander camp—a collection of perhaps two or three dozen tents of various sizes. Sword did not have enough light to see their true colors, but they were elaborately patterned in light and dark, and were a variety of shapes. In addition to the tents there were a few structures he could see as nothing but black outlines against the firelight. As they approached he could see that these were frameworks, with things suspended from them.
    Half a dozen campfires burned between the tents, providing the golden glow that guided his captors, and several lanterns hung from tent-poles and frameworks here and there, as well. People were gathered around these fires and sitting or leaning beneath the lanterns; if any of the Uplanders had retired for the night, it wasn’t obvious.
    Sword’s escorts had said he had been seen outlined