Chapter 1

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        Sun warmed sands hissed in their descent from my scarf as I burst from the dune, gulping in as much of the stale surface air as my lungs could take. Grateful to be breathing, but not really... My every gasp of desert air tasted of failure. 

        Our village wouldn’t survive another annum without a new well, and I couldn’t return for the third time this week empty-handed. Not when the entire community was relying on me to find some hint of water remaining in this sector.

        It was my deepest dune dive yet. All the while, I hoped to meet with the resistance of cool dense sand, but even one hundred meters deep into the desert, there was nothing. No water, not even the ruins of the buried cities. It had all been picked clean by the previous scavengers. 

        With a leaden pit in my stomach, I looked west, to where the sands stretched endlessly. I slid another dyed stake out of my florapack like an arrow from a quiver and drove it into the sand at my feet to mark the dive. The grid of red markers from my previous runs stuck out like toothpicks against the azure backdrop.

        The line where the dunes met the sky wavered with heat, and a mound of sand began to sift and bulge like a giant anthill as my partner, Kiera, clawed her way to the surface. Maybe she had better luck than me. She better have, because another no-yield run could mean the difference between the village’s survival and our desiccated remains fertilizing the Blood Barrens with a fresh supply of crimson sand.

        I ran to meet her. “Anything?”

        Damp grains of sand matted Kiera’s ochre hairline, trying to cling desperately to her moisture. It was as if nature itself wanted to suck us dry, reclaim what we took all those years ago.

        “Just junk.” She pulled dull pieces of scrap metal out of her pockets.

        “That’s not nothing,” I said, trying to ignore the nagging worry in my gut. “At least we can melt it down, maybe add to the new well’s piping?”

        “If we can find anywhere to put it. This has all been combed for supplies already,” Kiera sighed, shaking the sand out of her dark braids, and planting her own marker in the ground. She adjusted the stake to leave 6 inches of it sticking out. “Probably a waste of time, but I’ll take the north ridge.” She pointed to a substantial dune to our left.

        I nodded, heading in the opposite direction. Maybe the water table wouldn’t be out of reach this far south of the Oasis and their hydroslaves. I trudged for a couple of minutes before I heard those dreaded words.

        “Selah! Into the Dunes!” The fatalistic cry could only mean one thing and it wasn’t a drill this time.

Drones! We’d only have 10 seconds to get out of range of the drone’s thermal seekers. I sprinted towards the nearest mountain of sand, heart outpacing my feet.

        9— Meters away from the slope, I pulled my headscarf back over my eyes and mouth. My instincts would guide me the rest of the way and I tightened the straps on my florapack.

        8— Clapping both hands on my thighs released claw shovels in steam-powered bursts from the burrow bracelets curled around my wrists.

        7— The claw tips —6— climbed the tracks along my fingers and—5—clamped down over the tips, just in time to begin digging.

        4— My breathing was louder inside my scarf, ragged and halting. My hands swiped left and right in their practiced motions, parting the sand like the water we needed so desperately.

        3— I sucked one last breath of surface air into my lungs just before my head was completely submerged.

        2— Plunging into the crimson darkness, I clawed my path into the dune.

        1— The sand sifted away at each stroke, making room for its brethren to envelop me in the shadowy recesses of the dry packed desert waves.

        Even as the comforting pressure of warm sand blanketed my legs and feet, I couldn’t stop. Holding my breath, I dug further into the dune until I was safely out of range. Our team had taken down two of the Anti-Refugee drones in our last raid. Since then, they had been coming around these parts of the Blood Barrens less frequently. I wouldn’t be happy until we take down every last one of the marauding menaces.

        The sand was silent. Not even a rumble, yet. We had eluded the drone so far and made it to safety: Win! In this empty place full of loss, I’ll take a win anywhere I can get it. That is, if I didn’t die of suffocation first.

        Sliding my fingers together, the claws created a seal around my face to free some air space. During my early drills in the Blood Barrens, the sand would fill in around me anytime I moved, leaving no room for air pockets. By now I’d mastered the technique, which was lucky, because when it came down to it, you couldn’t rely solely on your Florapack for air.

        Managing your breath when under the sand will take up a lot of your mental space and self-restraint. It can be tempting to gulp down the fresh air that the Florapack provides immediately, but that way only leads to a sandy grave. You need to make sure your valves are properly sealed, listen for the whirring mechanisms, and count your breaths because if just one thing goes wrong, you’ll be dead in a manner of minutes.

        Of course, Gaea knows that anyone would prefer a quiet death under the sands to the dissonant din and sweat-soaked cries from the Oasis spas’ dehydration chambers. Which is where you’ll wind up if the drones catch you.

        But I’ll never let them catch me. I may be dirty and too thin, but I’m fast. One of the best dune divers out there, next to Kiera, that is.

        Shifting slightly, I nuzzled the hose on the left strap of my pack until it slipped under my veil. Using my teeth to release the valve, I exhaled the surface air into my Florapack. Inside the plexiglass enclosure strapped to my back, I could hear the familiar whirring of the pinwheels and bellows ushering my breath through the dwindling water stores and up towards the heart of the florachamber. There, one of the last remaining plants in the world would filter my carbon waste into the fresh oxygen that I’d need while waiting for this drone to pass.

        The younglings training to become dune divers sometimes complain about having to share a portion of their scant water rations with their Florapack, but it was times like this that made you grateful to have listened to your elders.

        That is, while we still had them.

        Gaea, shield us from the same fate our elders suffered. It was said that their bodies were returned to the Blood Barrens, with the rest of Oasis’ waste. Their dried skin fractured and their sandy blood turned to dust carried on the breeze. The water in their bodies was worth far more to the Grand Ambassador than their lives. 

        I couldn't imagine what it would be like to allow yourself to be taken, knowing you’d become one of the Grand Ambassador’s hydroslaves. Knowing that in Oasis, you would be worked for weeks in Moisture Reclamation Suits until your blood turned to sand.

        I tried not to think about that right now, but instead focused on the quiet calm of the dunes. The underlying growl of the drone’s four powerful turbines finally reached me through the layers of sand that shielded me from the threat. I took in a slow, calculating breath. My scarf blocked any of the loose sand from reaching my lips. Just one breath for now. I know how quickly this air pocket will be gone.

        Pushing my second breath into the pack would be enough to ensure that I would have some fresh air to complete the cycle. Recapping the valve on the intake tube, I turned to the right strap of my Florapack for my first breath of truly fresh, non-polluted air in days. My lungs drank it up greedily. The heady oxygen rush sent the blackened world tilting around me, though I knew my body was completely still.

        For now, all I can do now is wait under the sand, cycling through my breaths and checks, thinking of         Kiera doing the same somewhere further up in the dunes. When I felt certain that the drone had passed out of sight, I took one final pull from the Florapack, filling my lungs with its sweet oxygen in preparation to exit the dunes.

        The first rule of Dune Diving is to keep your feet facing the world beyond so that you can find your way out. Otherwise, you might swim too deep or in the wrong direction. Even for the best divers, the darkness can be disorienting. Each stroke sent sand trembling along my body, as I turned myself and cut my hands through the sand.

        I read once that people used to swim through water like this, kicking their legs and arms the way I did now. But I don’t believe it. How could there have ever been enough water that people would taint it with their bodies? How much of the precious element would be lost just dripping off of you? The ancestors were foolish and wasteful.

        Soon there was no resistance as my hands clawed at the sky. Pressing my fingers flat against the embankment, I dragged the rest of my body free, rolling out and onto my back with a wheeze that felt like more scarf than thick surface air. I shook my head and brushed the sand out of the creases of my scarf without taking it off. It would help my eyes transition back to the harsh desert rays.

        Squinting, I turned toward where I had seen Kiera last. The spikes in my soles dug into the shifting ground, steadying my strides and kicking up the dust behind me to cover each track. Still, my world felt unstable. Kiera always surfaced before me. She was the first to see the Drone and always the first to gloat about how close it had come. Always too close...

        Before I reached the peak of the dune, I listened for the drone. Nothing. Looking over the summit didn’t make me feel any better. “Kiera?” I ventured to shout. The only response was my own voice echoing back mockingly from the nearby mounds. Scanning the horizon, Kiera was nowhere to be seen. Could her Florapack have malfunctioned? I looked around, but she could have gone in anywhere. I would never find her in the sandy depths. “Kiera!?” Had she taken another quick dive for supplies without letting me know? That was unlike her, but stranger things had happened.

        I waited, taking another turn around myself, when I saw a dark figure running off in the distance. Kiera? No, too far away for that. I crouched, squinting for a better look. The figure looked over their shoulder several times. Their heels kicked up the red sand behind them, which floated in a trail like exhaust billowing from some powerful machine.

        That’s when I finally could make out his face. It was Ramino Wonn. He had been missing for ages, but here he was barreling over a dune clutching something tightly in both hands. His dark hair had grown out into short curls from the usual tight crop he typically reserved for his dives. Rami’s face flushed from his normal teak tone to deep maroon in his exertions.

        As I bolted towards him, I asked, “Where’ve you been?” An accusation, even though the more pressing question in my mind was, Why hadn’t Kiera surfaced yet? I didn’t dare give breath to the thought, but an impending sense of dread labored in me.

        Rami didn’t answer me. He kept running, his dark brows knit together with an intent focus.

        “Who’s chasing you?” I rushed towards him, closing the distance between us.

        “No one,” he breathed.

        “The drone passed. We don’t need to run.” But he didn’t slow, so I ran alongside him. “Kiera! Did you see Kiera?”

        “It…” he was out of breath, “Got her.”

        “What?! No! You don’t know that!” It couldn’t be true. Kiera was the fastest of all of us. There was no way she’d get caught. I tore my scarf down and whirled around to where Kiera was last.

        A hand fell on my shoulder. “We’ve got to... Go,” Rami huffed. “There’ll... Be more coming.”

        “Where were you? You didn’t help her?”

        Rami pulled my arm to hurry me away, but I pushed him off.

        “She called to warn me. If she hadn’t...” The dunes became a red blur, and I wiped a tear from my cheek. Normally, I would never shed water for another person, but Kiera was worth every bit of the sacrifice.

        “You know… There’s nothing... We could have—”

        “Nothing you could have done, you mean!” I shook him off once more. “We took two down already!”

        “It’s too close to the village,” he was getting his breath back. “It would have given us away. Think of the younglings.”

        “Think of Kiera!” I refused to accept that she could be gone that easily. “We have to get her back!”

        “I was there. There’s no chance we cou—”

        “What do you mean? Where?” I sputtered, not believing what I was hearing. “Oasis? The Spas?”

        “It’s no use. There’s no hope in that place.” Rami turned on his heels and stormed away from me, heading back to the village.

        “But you’ve been there?” Hope lightened my steps, as I hurried after Rami. “And you came back! How?”

        With a sleight of hand, Rami secreted the small bauble he had been holding up the sleeve of his robe.

        “What’s that?” I demanded.

        “What’s what?”

        “That!” I point at the sleeve, clearly bulging around a cylindrical object.

        “It’s nothing. We’ve got to get back.” Rami pulled his hand away from me defensively, his strides stretching longer, faster, in an attempt to outpace me. He never had been able to beat me at Tag as a kid, and he wouldn’t do any better now.

        Like a sand viper, I struck with such speed and force that he cried out in shock. His arm jerked back, but my grip was true, even as his Burrow Bracelet dug into my palm. I snaked my other hand up his sleeve to the object, slipping it out in a flash.

        “NO!” Rami lunged at me, but I spun out of his grasp. “Give it back! This isn’t a game, Selah!”

        I ran, my steps light and sure. On a good day, he couldn’t catch me, but after running for, Gaea knows how long, he didn’t stand a chance. “Tell me how to get there, and you can have it back,” I shouted back at him, feeling the smooth glass surface of the object in my palm.

        “You’ll never…” Rami panted once more, “get me back there.”

        “Then you’ll never get this back!” I turned toward him skipping backward, along the trail, holding the clear capsule into the light, shaking it just out of his reach. Something jangled inside, rattling against the glass as I shook it.

        Swiping at the object, Rami leaned too far forward and his footing slipped. He clutched his ankle, calling to me for help. His usual gag.

        “Nice try. You know that won’t work on me.” While he was down, I took a closer look at the little stone jangling in the glass enclosure. It was like a brown marble with a layer of ashy skin flaking off of it and sticking to the glass. Moisture beaded inside the glass. A stone that could generate water? This could be really valuable.

        Rami launched himself at me, knocking the glass from my hand. I tried catching it, but my fingers just tapped it this way and that like a clumsy ape, until Rami pushed me out of the way and fell on it, protectively. We grunted and grappled, struggling against one another for the prize. I tried to reach under him, grabbing for the capsule, but his body was a thick wall.

        I had to get that from him. How else would I save Kiera? There’s no way I could get in and out of the dehydration chambers without his help. It was impossible. No one had ever managed that before and lived to tell about it. In desperation, I slapped my palm down on my thigh releasing my claw shovels. He couldn’t win!

        “You don’t understand what this IS, SELAH! Let it go!” Rami pleaded, but he was too late, I had already started weaving my hand under him in the sand. Almost there. I tapped something. Almost got my fingers around it when we both heard a crack followed by the subsequent crunch as my metal claws shattered the glass capsule in Rami’s hands.

        “AH! Get OFF!” His voice squeaked at the end like a broken gear.

        I jumped back, hearing the pain in Rami’s voice.

        “Are you CRAZY??” I had never seen him so angry before. That’s when I saw the blood. It streamed in heavy droplets from his hands onto the sand.

        The steam rushed out of the tracks on my hand and my claws retreated up into the bracelets, now stained with his blood. “Oh, I didn’t—”

        “You never mean to! You never think, Selah! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” I looked down at the sand, unsure exactly where the glass vial broke. A brisk wind sent the sands skittering over the blood-stained glass, devouring it in an instant.

        “Let me—”

        “NO! Just Don’t!” He winced and bat me away from him. He was losing too much water, and it had been my fault. “You needling, little thorn. You can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”

        “Rami, I—”

        “You always take things too far.”

        “Rami?” Something was happening. The sand was shifting and bulging around something. I took a step back.

        “You never know when to stop. You—”

        “RAY!” I pointed at a pale snake, unlike any other I’ve ever seen. It started slithering up from the ground straight towards the sky.

        “No, no, no, No, NO!” Rami threw both hands to his head, blood still dripping from his palms.

        A few buds appeared in a green so vibrant, they made my Florapack look like pale shadows. The leaves grew, brightened, changed hues and then fell to the sand. At the loss, more grew in their place, changing to shades of red, brown, and deep orange, and then fell once more. More and more each time. All the while, the snake thickened and stretched towards the sky, growing in size, veining out at the top, and wrapping around itself. Each new stalk grew more of the green leaves that faded and fell like a bird molting its feathers. They budded, faded, and fell over and over in a beautiful festival of colors until the pile of fallen leaves had grown thick, heavy, and began to decompose into a dark umber.

        It was mesmerizing. As we stood staring at the magnificent display, the air around us cooled and freshened. I stepped into the soft shade now cast by the creature, now the shape of those fancy parasols I’ve heard they use in Oasis to cut the sun’s harsh rays.

        Rami may have vaguely warned, “Don’t” from behind me, but I barely heard him over the rattle hush of the leaves growing and falling. The same sound of the shaken feathers in sacred ceremonies.         Without thinking, I reached down and scooped up some of the dark brown substance that the crushed up leaves generated. It was cool and gritty, not at all like tiny sand particles that sift through my fingers and drift off in the wind. This dark matter squished as I pressed it. It spread in dark streaks on my fingers, clumping in my palm. Even after I dropped it, its color and scent clung to me. I tried wiping it away on my robe, but a shadow remained.

        One step closer and the reddish brown leaves sprinkled down around me. An old song came to my mind from long before my time. Sage Mazaye used to sing it as she drew our lessons in the sand:

                Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

                Stick around to see them all

                Leaves will grow and fade and die

                But that’s no reason we should cry

                For every year begins again

                Learn your seasons. Sing of them.

        And we did. We sang and chanted with her, but we never really knew what it all meant. The shape she drew in the sand had no color, no life, no breath, and the way she told it, the seasons came and went slowly across the whole annum. But this “tree”, if you could call it that, breathed its cool, sweet air upon us. With each inhale, the leaves grew. With each exhale, they fell.

        I looked up to see a green fan of leaves open above me, shifting into that same magical display of rich, golden hues before drifting slowly around me. I caught one of the leaves in time to watch it shrivel, dry up, and crumble away in my palm.

        Like that, the spell was finally broken, and I found my words, “What is this?” I turned to Ramino, who had sunk down to the sand, head in his hands.

        “It was the last remaining seed from the Tree of Life,” he sniffled. “I s-stole it. It… It was going to save us all, but now…”

        Stole it? From a peddler? From the Oasis? What had he planned to do with it? I wondered.

        He wiped his face on his sleeve, streaking deep red across his dark skin. His flint-grey eyes still brimming with tears. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve signed away our water certificates.”

        He has to be exaggerating. This was a gift from Gaea! This was a wonder. It would change everything. It would bring us all life. Our very own Oasis in the Blood Barrens.

        “What do you mean? It’s a miracle! It’s—”

        “They’ll already be coming for us, and now you’ve set up a bright flag in the desert, less than a league from the village. You don’t think the drones will spot this in a second?”

        Those words stole all of the wind from my lungs, all the light from my eyes. I turned back to the tree as the greens lit up in flaming reds, destroying itself instantly after it bloomed, only to begin the cycle again. He’s right. They’ll find us and they’ll break the treaty our elders made for our lives. Their sacrifices will be for nothing.

        I thought of the village’s dome, just a few minutes away, bustling with life under the sands. We’ve doomed them all. I’ve doomed them all.