Chapter One

Sand Slavers

The four children had travelled a long way. The mountain had disappeared behind them and so had the crumbled Castle of Stone. Akra had been attentive throughout the whole journey, listening to Sahib talk about the City of Beams. Behind them Long listened in, but Mai sensed a twinge of jealousy was beginning to twist his thoughts. Sahib and Akra were friends now. Long’s ‘buddy for life’ had been yanked away from him—by a sealer of all things. Mai noticed the frown on Long’s face; he pushed his eyebrows closer together as he watched Sahib and Akra talk. Every so often he stopped to rub his ankles. Mai knew the burns around them would not heal quickly. The wound left from the searing grasp of the invisible hands of the underworld, which had almost pulled him to his death, would soon blister. What she didn’t know was that two nasty red streaks were beginning to snake their way up Long’s legs, and with them came an unusual meddling in his thoughts.

When it was clear to Mai they had walked as far as possible for that day they found a place to rest. Long collected some dead wood, and with Akra’s fireruling skills a crackling fire soon spread its warmth as the darkness of the night settled over them. It was a clear night. A starlit blanket twinkled above them. Each of the children, too tired to eat, curled up around the fire and soon they were all asleep. Mai was happy to be back on her journey to the Valley of a Thousand Thoughts. But as she slept her flickering eyelids told a different story. Her mind replayed memories of the last few days. It was a skill only thoughtbankers possessed: the ability to replay a memory as if it were a dream.

Seemingly untroubled about the events of the last few days, Barka sat on a large log next to the fire as the children slept. The small lizard’s dark, protruding eyes rolled around, searching for another juicy beetle attracted to the firelight. His large sticky tongue lapped around one of the horns on the rear of his head, cleaning away a piece of fly-flax wing. Then his eyes found something juicer than a fly-flax. The long, tube-like body of a wormwod slid acros