Hero at the Fall (Rebel of the Sands #3)

I shifted us, correcting the angle a little, as Jin called out instructions I only half heard. We were flying over the unforgiving desert. We were skimming across the Sand Sea.

And in a second, I understood what it was that Jin missed about this. The freedom of gliding through the world, forgetting for a moment where you had come from and not worrying about where you were going. Being, just for a moment, nowhere at all.

I couldn’t help it. I let out a whoop. Shazad took it up next. She was beaming into the wind with a smile like I hadn’t seen on her since we’d rescued the prisoners from Eremot. The rest of the ship quickly took up the cry, cheering as they released their white-knuckled grips on the ship. As they realised we really were doing the impossible.

The Gallan camp came into view over the rise of sand, line after line of tents appearing in our path like islands in the sea of sand. But I didn’t have any intention of stopping.

As we got closer, I could see men in foreign uniforms dashing out of their tents, running frantically out of the way at the sight of us. The sand swelled below us as we crested nearer and nearer.

‘Everyone get ready!’ Shazad called as I steered the ship towards the dead centre of the tents. ‘And raise our colours!’

I saw something bunched in one of the young rebels’ hands. It looked like a flag. She attached it to a rope on the mainsail and started pulling, raising it high above us as Shazad and Rahim both started shouting orders about drawing weapons and Jin started bellowing new orders at the ship.

But I didn’t hear much of it. Because there, unfurling high above us at the top of the mast, was a dark blue flag stitched with a golden sun. Ahmed’s symbol. A declaration of the Rebellion.

A signal to the Gallan of who was coming for them, a signal that this country wasn’t theirs to take. It was ours.

All around us, rebels were pointing guns over the edge of the ship, using the bannister as support, angling the firearms downwards. I saw cannons appear through portholes around the hull. The ship wobbled a little bit as I lost my focus. But I kept us going. Straight and steady towards the sudden chaos blooming from the Gallan camp.

‘Everybody brace!’ Jin shouted as the front of the ship hit the first of the tents.

I felt the tent splinter below the hull like firewood under my boot.

‘Fire!’ Shazad called the order as we ploughed forwards, shattering tents ahead of us. Suddenly the air was filled with gunfire and the boom of cannons. Shrapnel tore through the air, shredding everything in its path. The wind caught a tent, whipping it away from the ground and casting it high in the air. The sun struck it as it soared over us, piercing through a hundred tiny holes in the dark blue fabric, so that for a moment it looked like a hundred stars peering down on us. And then the canvas was dashed away.

To my left, a bullet struck a cache of gunpowder, sending up a blossom of flames to one side of the ship. It caught across the camp, looking like paper men going up in flames.

The sand picked up a soldier in its wake, reeling him towards us, making him disappear under the bow of the ship. And I thought of a soldier like him marching through Dustwalk when I was a little girl, boots kicking up dust as he dragged a man out of his house and shot him in the name of their occupation. And I didn’t feel sorry.

I fought through the pain in my side. Even if I loosened my grip on the desert a little, the wind would carry us until I grabbed it back. But now I forced the sand around us to swell, overcoming the Gallan like a wave. And then I looked up. Straight ahead, the sand ended, giving way to stone as the ground sloped up, as desert turned to mountains. Panic set in.

‘Jin!’ I called.

‘I see it,’ he shouted back, already motioning for the sailors to bring in the sails. Already trying to slow the ship.

‘There’s a mountain!’ I shouted.

‘I see it,’ he said again.

I had to do something. I watched everyone scramble. ‘Everyone hold on!’ I shouted. But my voice was lost in the gunfire. I caught Shazad’s eye, raising my hands just a little. She took up the cry. But she was muffled, too. I watched as she made the decision. Pulling out a knife, she sliced through the rope at her middle. I cursed her under my breath.

Untethered, Shazad made her way down the line of gunmen, repeating the order, telling people to hold tight. Forcing them to drop their guns to their sides as they laced their arms through the bannisters or around masts, anchoring themselves as she ran down the line towards us.

I waited. Shazad needed to get closer. She needed to get to safety. I waited. I waited. Until I couldn’t wait any longer.

I twisted my power, yanking the sand around in one violent twist, changing the course of the ship at a hard angle, wrenching up the desert on either side to buttress us. I reached for Shazad as the ship listed hard to the right.

She was too far away. I could already tell as the ship tipped, preparing to send anyone not firmly attached over the edge.

Jin got there first.

Letting go of the useless wheel, trusting his tether, he launched himself down the incline of the ship, running down the deck as it became a steep slope. As I fought to keep the ship propped up.

He reached Shazad a second before the ship tilted too hard, grabbing her to him as the ground beneath them gave out, pulling the rope around his waist taut.

I breathed in relief as he anchored her. The two of them swung like a pendulum while the chaos turned to stillness around us as the ship settled in the sand, flat on its side. Everyone was still on board by the grace of a good rope.

I could barely breathe though the agony, but I heard Rahim call out, ‘Is everyone still alive?’

‘Yeah, call out if you’re dead,’ Sam added. And Shazad laughed. Then I was laughing, too. And I couldn’t stop.

Because it was ridiculous and impossible, what we had just done. But I had managed it. And we were all still alive.

And we were almost at the end.





Chapter 32



We struck camp halfway up the mountain, at the last village before the fortress of Iliaz. Bilal had to know we were coming, but our path hadn’t met with any resistance. The people of Iliaz knew Rahim from his days in service to Lord Bilal’s father, and as we made our way up to the fortress, they came out to stare. When we stopped for the night, the locals welcomed him like a long-lost son. The whole village came out, carrying platters of food and pitchers of the wine that had made Iliaz rich. There had been no news from the fortress in weeks, the people said. Some said Bilal was already dead.