The Heart Of The Sands, Book 3 Of The Gods Within - Plot & Excerpts
In the space of only a few hundred paces they went from trudging through bottomless sand, to walking on a layer of sand only a hand’s width deep, then to walking on the hard prairie dirt. And there they walked into a wall of mist, a light fog that clung to the ground and limited vision to a few hundred paces. Morgin remembered the plains well: a flat and barren land without shape or contour, broken only by clumps of sagebrush and brown grasses. The last time he’d visited the plains, he’d killed Salula. Morgin noticed the difference in the temperature immediately. As the sun rose and climbed above the flat horizon, out on the sands, at this early hour, the temperature would be rising quickly. But here, it still held onto a hint of the spring night chill, which made the daylight hours bearable. It didn’t burn off the mist, though he saw the clear, blue sky above so the layer of fog couldn’t be too thick. To shift their sleeping schedule back to nights, they continued marching. A subtle difference arose in the Benesh’ere when they crossed that border between the oven of the sands and the horizonless prairie: a certain wariness descended upon them all, and everyone now carried arms.
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