act35side

Watch out—!

Great Horakhet, I pray to you again! Allow your child to see your face again! I-I want to see the sunrise tomorrow! I want to see it shine once more on the museum!

The babbling Anat trips and falls.

Titi catches her just before her face hits the ground, but the two of them hear a loud noise.

It sounds like a machine turning on.

*pant* *pant* Narantuya! We finally found you!

We haven't heard from you since you bought us drinks last night! We were so worried!

I haven't had a shut-eye in days, so I slept in longer. What's there to worry about?

Anyway, good timing. Give me a hand.

Why are you still helping other people carry stuff?

Shh, I'm not doing this for anyone else, it's for myself.

This is obviously an old statue. Better to get something out of it than to just leave it on the streets.

But Narantuya... Isn't it made by one of the metal constructs?

Huh? What metal constructs?

Lay it out for me slowly. I might have slept too soundly last night and missed some headlines.

I thought you were the sharp one, Narantuya. How could you have missed it? There are weird metal constructs all over the street. Didn't they come at you?

They're tearing houses apart, making walls and pillars out of sand... and grabbing gems. Maybe you should check?

Everyone lost something last night, from onyx necklaces on their necks to astrolabes that simulate the moons and stars.

Is that what happened to your hairpin?

Wha... where did my hairpin go?

You got one thing right, I'm sharper than you.

And I'm starting to feel that something is off.

Anyway, now that I have the intel, time to come up with a plan.

Take off any gems you're wearing and hide them. If those metal constructs are robbers, let them come for me first.

Join the fleeing crowds and get your smoke bombs ready.

But where do we go?

Everyone else can hide in their homes or at least stay in hotels behind locked doors. Are... we going back to the sewers?

No problem, I know the way. I'll help us find our sleeping bags.

No... we're going back to the museum.

The museum? How could that place be safe when they'll hire people like me and Ajazi?

Think about it. Who are the experts on caravan routes, desert terrain, dune movement, burdenbeast habits, and tribal faiths? Bandits, meaning us.

So, who are the experts on the dead coming back to life, ancient curses, and necromancy? The museum folks.

...Makes sense.

I hear something.

Perfect timing. I want to see what those metal constructs are all about.

—Alright I get it now. Let's go!

Are we practicing our escape?

No, this IS the escape!

Let's hope smoke bombs work on these things!

She turns around, raises her hand, and prepares to pull the pin on the smoke bomb—

Suddenly, the streets grow quiet.

The sound of marching machines disappears.

All the metal constructs Narantuya can see slow down.

They stop chasing them and gather around Narantuya.

Calm and docile, they watch like tamed burdenbeasts as Narantuya walks past them.

—And back.

What the hey...?

Am I dreaming?

It's not a dream, Narantuya. I pinched myself just now. It hurt.

Thanks. Then I won't try it myself.

What's going on?

Say... I saw a shadow of the river god the night before.

Maybe it really did bless me.

I understand now.

Ajazi, Ajani, go on to the museum without me.

What about you?

Divine duty. I need to find someone.

The river god must have wanted me to act the hero, and show Aspasia that I'm the boss.

'Those who stand by me need no longer be enemies of your warriors.'

The jewel constructs are following the pact of the two human sovereigns a thousand years ago. They recognize her blood...

You were right, Zubayr. She is the descendant of Kharanduu Khagan.

Come, young Nightzmora. Walk into the dream—

You should all bless me. Bless me with a dance under the morning sun and the tapping of your scabbards.

—Oh, right, I forgot you sold your swords. Then beat the pots and pans. Play the anvil like a drum with your pens.

They say the roads of Menat-Ha'mait are paved with jewels. Well, I'm heading for that road now.

I know most of you will tell me to stop being delusional. But why can't I make it rich?

Why can't I buy us the best life?

I <i>have</i> to try.

Where am I—?

—Oh, my departure ceremony! I must have danced myself dizzy.

I give you my blessing, Narantuya.

There's a caravan I know that regularly visits the City of Radiance. If you do make it there, seek them out.

Hah, I knew you'd have some useful connections!

One more friend, one less trouble. Thanks for the blessing.

I'm still worried, Narantuya.

About what? How many times have I told you? No one's going to get revenge on you when I'm gone.

This has nothing to do with you. You chose to work for me and not Asim because I'm just that charming.

Old Asim resents me for it and speaks ill of me everywhere he goes, but he's just being petty.

And those jealous haters had to band together and set me up... my fault I'm so lucky that I attract both gold and people.

But you're the one I'm worried about, Narantuya.

if you just wander into the desert with an empty satchel, what will you do when you can't find water or beasts?

Huh? I know we somehow ended up poorer than we started, but I'm sure I at least have some coins for jerkies and preserved fruits.

Why would you think that? Has anyone been starving without telling me? Who is it?

I'll give them some coins right now—

Narantuya reaches into the purse at her waist.

As her eyes slowly widen in disbelief, she unties the beast hide pouch, turns it inside out, and begins shaking it.

A few grains of sand fall onto the endless desert.

Strange. I don't remember bumping into a beggar or vagrant...

Actually, I vaguely remember crossing paths with a few rich men?

Narantuya, I thought it over, and I think I should teach you my secret to finding water in the desert.

I don't have to worry about becoming a sacrificial tribute to a bandit chief anymore, so there's no need to keep this a secret any longer.

—Good. I like this blessing.

The sands can enjoy those lost coins then.

I'm worried too, Narantuya.

Hmm? And what are <i>you</i> worried about? That I'll abduct another child slave from a caravan who will replace you as most illiterate?

I'm worried about the two black blades of yours. You haven't used or maintained them for a long time.

It's precisely because maintenance is a chore that I avoid using these antiques. I much prefer modern materials and mechanical forging—

—Wait, where are my blades? And my dagger? And my supply of paralyzing toxins and spore casks?

*sigh* I'm worried about your tendency to pick up new recruits, Narantuya.

You'll be setting out alone. It's great if you could get some useful crew. But most of the time, it's people like me and Ajazi that you have to save...