The remainder of the night passes as blissful oblivion.

I awake and for the briefest of moments I think that I am back in my old attic apartment in the City. The conversations humming outside my door are the vendors and patrons in the market below, trading wares and swapping stories. I wonder if Harold will have a roll of bread to share this morning, and whether there will be enough activity in the Court to risk picking a few pockets.

I roll over on the thin mattress and am immediately brought back to the present. I am not high above the City but rather deep underground. The damp chill soaks into my bones and I suppress a shudder. I am a girl meant for the light, not the dark.

Sitting up I stretch my arms over my head and revel in the sensation of having experienced a good night's sleep for the first time in many weeks. I make a mental note to ask Cade for some more of that bode tea.

Immediately I feel a pang of guilt. I shouldn't be rested and comfortable, not when Will is out in the middle of the desert waiting for me, probably worried and anxious. I need to focus on getting Jaron's consent to meet with Meg so that I can bring him back to Phoenix as soon as possible. Enough of this loafing around, I have work to do.

There is a light tap against the metal frame of my shack. I stand and move to open the door, crossing the small space in a single stride.

Luca is waiting for me. He offers a cursory nod and steps back, wordlessly inviting me outside.

"Good morning." I greet him, stifling a yawn as I lean back against the doorframe.

"I assume you are hungry." His voice is still thick with sleep but his eyes are as bright as ever, matching my gaze intently.

"You assume correctly. Will we be meeting with your brother?" I prod, keeping my tone light.

"Jaron is not here. He and Rowan led out a hunting party first thing this morning."

"He left?" I don't bother to hide my annoyance.

Something pulls at Luca's mouth before he catches himself and straightens his face. "Be easy. He will return tonight; you will get your chance to speak with him then."

"Oh. In that case, I believe you mentioned something about food?" I pull my hair over my shoulder, braiding it haphazardly.

His eyes flick down to the ends of my hair and back up again. "Yes. We will have to fetch it."

"Fetch it? From where?"

He slings a bow out from under his shoulder, handing it to me.

I take the weapon from him and study it before glancing back up, letting a slow smile spread over my face.

"Come." He indicates over his shoulder towards the exit. "Let's go hunting."

I match his long stride as we make our way through the room, both of us weaving expertly between the people and houses. We take the stairs two at a time, the sounds of the crowd below us gradually ebbing away until Luca pushes aside the cloth draped in front of the entrance. Suddenly, we are outside.

I take a deep breath, drawing my shoulders back and shutting my eyes as I revel in the hot desert breeze and the sensation of a million miniscule fragments of sand tickling my skin. My heart immediately feels lighter, freer. I feel like myself.

When I open my eyes Luca is standing a little ways off, watching me. I notice that his leg is no longer bandaged and wonder if he could be healed so quickly. Perhaps the Wasters have some medical secrets; the tea Cade gave me could certainly be considered akin to magic.

Luca pushes back the few strands of hair flying about his face and nods once before turning and jogging lightly down the path, heading away from the river. I chase after him, pushing my body hard until I settle into a comfortable rhythm over the unfamiliar surface.

The sand shifts almost silently beneath our feet, a sharp contrast to the sound of my boots slapping against the City's roofs and alleyways. My heart beats steadily in my ears and I relax into the run, concentrating on the way Luca's shoulders move beneath his tunic as he sprints ahead of me.

We race past dune after dune. By the time Luca draws to a stop I am slightly out of breath and a light dusting of perspiration has gathered on my throat.

Luca glances over at me as I pull up next to him. "Perhaps you need to exercise more." He gloats, barely winded.

"Some of us haven't been running over sand our entire lives." I respond, struggling to speak as I suck air into my lungs.

He lets out a snort that could pass for a laugh. The feeling of blood flowing through my body and air rushing by my face is too wonderful to consider being annoyed at him and instead I glance around, wrinkling my brow as I take in our surroundings.

"Gracious me. Sand, sand and more sand. Tell me, brave hunter: how does this particular location differ from any other in the miles and miles and miles of endless desert?"

"This is where the hares come." He ignores my sarcasm and begins walking further inland, not bothering to alter his stride as I hurry to keep up.

We enter a brushy area dotted with rocks and the odd dried-out tree. Shadows loom over me, refreshing after the exertion of the run. I glance up as we walk, studying the sparsely-spaced trees, trying vainly to imagine them blooming with leaves.

"Here." Luca circles one of the larger tree trunks, his sharp eyes darting across its surface up to the higher boughs. He raises his eyebrows at me, adjusting the bow over his shoulder before jumping straight up to grab a low branch, pulling himself bodily upwards.

I watch as he stands up on the bough, the old wood creaking under his feet before he jumps to grab the next branch. Fluidly he moves higher and higher, stopping midway up the tree before crawling a little ways out and situating himself comfortably high above the ground.

My senses hum as I plan my path up the rough bark, feeling giddy at the prospect. I leap at the trunk of the tree, kicking off the side of it and propelling myself onto an outstretched branch, barely pausing before reaching for the next highest limb, picking my way quickly towards Luca.

He sits calmly, his long legs dangling over the edge of the tree branch as he waits for me. I settle myself next to him, considering our weight and the strength of the branch. Once I'm seated I glance up, feeling my face flush with the heady exertion of the climb.

He nods approvingly and slings his bow out from under his shoulder. "Can many of the other Miners climb so well?"

"Not anyone I've ever met." I quirk an eyebrow at him, accepting an arrow when he hands it to me and notching my bow.

"How did you learn?"

"I taught myself." I reply as I practice aligning my sight along the length of the arrow. "Being able to run and climb is extremely useful when you earn your living as a thief."

"How does a thief become a friend to a Queen and the lover of the Queen's warrior?"

I laugh, genuinely for the first time since crashing into the desert. "That, my friend, is a very long story."

He smiles, at once appearing younger. "Perhaps one day you can tell it to me."

"Perhaps." I push my braid behind my back as I hold up my bow, tracing the ground with the point of my arrow as I search. "Now, what is it we're looking for?"

"Who taught you to hold your weapon that way?"

I frown, lowering my bow. "Will did. Why?"

"You are stiff. It is as though you are the arrow and intend for the weapon to unleash you." He holds up his own bow, keeping it level with his chest and tilting it slightly. "Like this, do you see?"

I try to copy his movements, rotating my wrist and dropping my shoulders.

"Good. Now, when you release, keep your movement in time with your breath. Your actions are an extension of you. It is like running, like climbing."

I watch him intently as he searches the ground below us, his sharp eyes missing nothing.

"Your body is the real weapon. The arrow is merely an extension of you." Slowly, purposefully he raises the bow, his breaths slow and laboured as he draws his arm back.

"Release your breath as you fire. When we take a life, we breathe new life." His arm steadies and his fingers release in the moment afterwards, the arrow flying straight and true. I don't bother to look down, knowing for certain that the hare has been dispatched.

He looks back at me, the familiar smugness once again lacing his features. "Now, you try."

"I'm not a very good shot." I warn him, leaning forward slightly as I search for movement below us.

"There." He spots a rustling in the undergrowth in the same moment I do. I feel a jolt of annoyance but concentrate on bringing the bow up the same way Luca did. I draw slow, steady breaths, readying myself and trying to keep my motions fluid.

I keep the weapon tilted slightly and am surprised to find how much more comfortable I feel holding it this way. Sighting along the length of the arrow I narrow my eyes towards the target, blowing out one final breath as I draw back and release.

The arrow wooshes behind the hare and it scampers away, disappearing into the undergrowth. I sit back on the tree branch, scowling and deliberately avoiding looking at Luca.

"Hm." He makes a low sound in his throat and I feel another lurch of irritation. "I suppose I can share my breakfast with you." He swings his bow behind his back and drops down onto the branch below us, balancing easily and looking back up at me. "But you will owe me."

I sigh and follow him down, the climb from branch to branch buoying my spirits somewhat. I catch up with Luca near the brush. He leans over and picks up the dead hare, smoothly pulling his arrow free of the body.

I grimace as I watch him wipe the bloody arrow on the ground and return it to the quiver on his back. He catches me making a face and shrugs. "Waste not."

"Are we going to cook it here?" I ask, glancing around.

"Not here. I know another place." He attaches the hare to his belt before turning and jogging out of the brush. I follow after him, my body relaxing more fluidly into the shifting sand this time.

We run in silence. I have vague notions of turning North and East, trying to commit the route to memory. Several twists and turns later Luca draws to a stop, waiting for me to catch up before indicating the dune we are standing next to.

"Another secret entrance to the tube?" I guess, searching the surface for a strip of sand-coloured cloth.

"No. We are going to the other side." He moves past me and steps up to the pile of sand, using his hands and legs to crawl upwards.

I wrinkle my nose, recalling the tedious descent I already experienced coming down from one of these monstrosities. At least this time I won't have the full weight of an injured Waster draped over my shoulders. I draw my scarf up over my mouth before crawling up the sandy mountain after Luca.

The rush of competition flows through my veins as I scramble upwards, fighting to keep up with him. We push ourselves faster and faster as we move out of the shadows and into the orange-yellow sun, scarring the pristine wall of sand with our handprints.

Luca is already waiting for me when I finally reach the top of the dune. I straighten, noting with satisfaction that I am not the only one out of breath this time. It seems that Luca is also driven by a race.

I pull my scarf off my face, following Luca's gesture down the slope on the other side of the dune. My eyes widen at the sight below us.

An oasis. Perfect and pristine, hidden right here in the centre of a circle of dunes. The lush greenery of the trees and reflection of the sun off the clear pool of water is startling. So much colour amongst the desert's neutral palette shocks my senses and takes my breath away.

The City's resources are drawn from farmed and protected oasis' outside its walls but those manicured patches of land pale in comparison to this lush piece of wilderness. I push my hair back from where it swirls against my face, grinning widely at the view.

"You like it." Luca's matter-of-fact voice breaks through my thoughts.

"It's beautiful." I breathe before looking back at him. "Can we go down there?"

"I can." He answers. His mouth is drawn mischievously. "Whether or not you can remains to be seen."

He moves to the edge of the dune and places his feet on the slanting surface. Leaning backwards he allows the shifting sand to carry him down, balancing with his arms outstretched and sliding towards the base of the dune.

I pull my scarf and goggles back over my face and move to position myself similarly, biting my tongue in concentration as I feel the ground begin to shift below me.

My heart leaps into my throat as I slide, filling me with exhilaration. I concentrate, correcting my balance continually until I become comfortable and begin to pick up speed. Sand flies around me, following my progress like an unfurled sail. A delighted whoop tears out of my mouth and I lean back further, wanting, needing to go faster and faster.

I glide past Luca, keeping my eyes trained on the foliage up ahead. My fingers trail against the soft sand behind me, connecting me to the earth. When I draw near the base of the dune I sit back, laughing as I skid to a stop and nearly collide with the trunk of a tree.

Luca arrives next to me a few moments later, the wide grin on his face echoing my own. He helps me to my feet and I jump up exuberantly, whirling in place as I take in the scenery.

"Come." Luca's tall figure strides past me, our soon-to-be meal slapping lightly against his thigh as he walks. "Let's eat."

I help him gather several dried twigs, watching intently as he builds them into a pile and strikes up a flame using a rock and piece of flint. He coaxes the fire gently to life, his silent patience remnant of his technique with the bow and arrow.

Before long the hare has been skinned and is speared with the sticks we hold in our hands over the flames. I sigh and settle into place, enjoying the scent of cooking meat and the heat of the low embers. Luca sits across from me, calmly watching the patterns in the fire.

"Thank you." I say, breaking through the silence.

His brows shoot up as he looks at me over the flames. "For what?"

"For showing me this." I gesture around us. "All of this. The hunting, the climbing, this place." The side of my mouth quirks upwards.

"I also shared my meal with you." He points out and I let out a low laugh, shaking my head.

"Yes, thanks for that as well."

"You are welcome." He pulls his stick out of the fire and tears a piece of meat off, leaning back so that he is resting on his elbows.

I check my portion again, sighing and placing it back over the flames.

"It's done." Luca says lazily, popping another piece into his mouth. "I can tell from here."

"I like it cooked more than this." I reply, my eyes trained on the dancing fire.

"You'll ruin the taste."

"I know what I'm doing." I thrust my stick further down near the coals, watching the meat blacken.

"If you say so."

I keep the meat stubbornly in place for an extra minute, burning it purposefully and feeling annoyed at my own pointless defiance.

"Delicious." I declare, ignoring the scorching my fingers receive when I finally pull off a piece and take a bite.

He smirks and lays out flat, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. I look about as I eat, marvelling at the various shades of green surrounding us, coating the ground with soft shrubbery and reaching high over our heads in great shoots. The sounds of various birds sound from all sides, their cheery talk reminiscent of the chatter in the marketplace and Waster camp.

My thoughts eventually turn to Will, wishing that I could share this unique patch of life amidst Wasteland with him. I glance towards Luca, watching his chest rise and fall as he breathes. His company isn't entirely intolerable and I appreciate him teaching me some useful desert skills. I suppose there are worse people to spend a day with.

Luca stirs as I polish off the last of my meal. He rises languidly to his feet, using a stick to disperse the fire and spreading out the coals. He picks some large, flat leaves from a nearby plant and pads down to the water's edge, returning a moment later with their soaked remnants and laying them without ceremony over the coals, extinguishing the lingering heat.

"I'm going for a swim." He announces. "Are you coming?"

The prospect of washing off the grime of the last few days is incredibly appealing and I rise readily, following Luca down to the water. As we walk I pull off my scarf and goggles and toss them to the side.

We kick off our shoes and I peel my tunic off my back, grimacing as I ease the tacky surface away from my skin.

Luca steps out of his pants, thankfully leaving his undergarments in place before wading into the water. I allow myself a moment to appreciate the way his tattoos decorate the tightly muscled lines of his back. The intricate design weaves from his spine up to his neck and down his arms, beautiful and menacing at the same time.

I move to the waters edge and step in, biting back a squeal as the cold water hits my toes. I stride the rest of the way in purposefully, sinking down and letting the water wash over my tired limbs.

I've never been in a natural pool before and my stomach flips at the sensation. I twirl my arms and kick my legs, relishing in the feeling of weightlessness. The cool water feels marvelous and cleansing.

Luca splashes from somewhere behind me and I turn in place, watching him swim broad strokes towards me. I remain with my feet firmly planted on the soft sand below us, unwilling to venture out any further and risk the embarrassment of having to be rescued by him.

With a flick of my wrist I splash a little water when he emerges next to me. His dark hair appears black when it's wet, and his eyes appear bluer than usual.

"I can show you how to swim, if you want." The offer takes me by surprise and I start.

"Thanks." I offer him a grin. "Maybe some day."

He is silent for a moment, studying me. I sink lower in the water, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"You are scarred." He says finally. "How did it happen?"

I sigh. "You know, where I come from it is considered rude to ask such a personal question."

"What is rude about it?" He seems genuinely curious. "They are not a secret."

"No, they're not a secret." I allow. I glance down at my shoulder, frowning at a particularly heinous marking left by the point of the King's sword.

"Then why should you not tell me?" His fingers dance on the the water, sending small ripples across the surface.

"I don't know you very well, for one."

"This is how we get to know one another. We tell our stories." He speaks slowly, as if he is explaining something very simple to a small child.

"That particular story is a bit like not knowing how to swim and diving into the deep end of a pool." I dodge his questioning lightly. "How about you tell me something about yourself first?"

He doesn't respond immediately, continuing to trace lazy circles in the water. "There is very little to know about me." He says eventually. "I am the brother of a chieftain. That is my story."

He ducks under the water before I get a chance to reply and I roll my eyes, recognizing a tendency towards flight when I see it. Were this the City Luca would not hesitate to duck out a window.

He emerges a little ways off, running his hand over his loosened hair.

"What about your tattoos?" I ask, getting his attention.

He raises his dark brows at me and paddles closer. "What do you wish to know about them?"

"What do they mean?" I tilt my head at him. "Or do you just think they make you look pretty?"

"I am certain that they make me look pretty." He responds and I laugh, pleased to have finally extracted a genuine joke out of him.

"Is that the only reason you have them?" I prod further, my curiosity piqued.

"We receive different markings for different stages of our lives." He moves to the shallower water by me and stands, holding his arm out.

Up close the designs are even more gorgeous. Tiny, intricate lines swirl together to create a larger design, hues of black, brown and blue intermingling with a precision that surpasses the finest work I have seen in the City.

"I was given this when I killed my first bird." He points to a small symbol near the crook of his elbow. I turn his arm over in my hands, studying the design, noting the way it blends in perfectly with the other individual pictures dotting his skin.

"They're beautiful." I tell him genuinely.

He doesn't say anything immediately and I notice his eyes flick back to the scars on my shoulders.

A strange sound strains on the peripherals of my hearing. I release Luca's arm and look away, furrowing my brow and concentrating, searching for the source. A large hand comes down on my shoulder as Luca gestures towards the dunes behind us.

A shadow moves over the top of the sandy mountain and instinctively we both duck lower in the water, sinking down to our shoulders with nary a ripple between us. My breath catches at the familiar sight of a great silver balloon, roped and attached to the wooden undercarriage.

An airship. One of our own.