We keep walking. There aren't any convenient landmarks for me to really mark the progress, or even tell if we're going the right way. I can only assume the people who've scouted this route and planned this are actually on top of things and not just taking a wild guess at what the right way might be.
I can't see any landmarks at all. Just a wide expanse of sand, the sun overhead, and the horizon. It's not an interesting view.
It's not a nice one, either.
It feels endless, almost like a kind of dream.
Like I'm going to look behind me and see nothing at all. No evidence we've gone anywhere. Just more sand.
It makes my head hurt, the idea of looking around.
So I just.
Focus on the back of the person in front of me and keep going. One step in front of the other, the sun baking me alive, my clothes soaked in sweat and the heat making me dizzy and faint and nauseated...
But I'm still going.
We all are.
There's no complaints.
I'd complain. If it were any other circumstance, if this were any less important, if there was a chance at all to rest...
I'd complain about the heat, the sun, the dizziness, the sweat and thirst and everything.
But I don't.
I keep going.
Just keep walking.
And then.
A building comes into view. It's in the distance, so far it looks like a small speck on the horizon. But as we approach, as it starts to grow in size and definition...
I think I'm seeing it more and more clearly.
I can't quite tell.
My vision is swimming. But there's definitely a structure.
Ivan holds up a hand and gestures to the left. "There's shade. We'll rest there until twilight." His tone doesn't allow any room for argument, but even if it did...
I wouldn't.
Resting is all I can do.
The others aren't much better, either, it seems.
It's hard to tell when my eyesight is swimming this much. I just know that we've stopped and everyone is resting.
Hestia leans on my arm and presses herself close to me. I feel her hair brush my face, but it's hard to see her.
Ahead of us, in the side of what I'd think is just an empty dune, Ivan leads us to a small hatch that leads to some kind of cellar.
We all descend, one by one.
The room we enter isn't big, or impressive. It's not anything special.
But the temperature is lower and that's the only thing I care about right now.
I lean my head back and groan, eyes slipping shut.
"...Here." Peter's voice.
I crack open my eyes to see a bottle of water, condensation dripping off the outside. He looks sweaty and tired too.
"Thanks." My voice is raspy. I don't know how long it's been since I had any water, since we were out in the heat, but...
Well.
I guess I'm lucky.
I could be dead already, I suppose.
I could have collapsed on the way and thrown everything off, too.
I sip on the water, and I'm grateful.
Ivan's voice cuts in.
"...Try to rest and recover. Right now, if there's anything to process, load, or unload, they'll be in high activity there." He crosses his arms and settles down on a chair I hadn't even bothered to notice before I'd collapsed on the ground.
"Isn't busy good for us?" Eric asks, from where he's leaning against a wall.
"Mm, in theory." The man nods. "But they've consolidated everything they need into a small area now, so even though most of that trading post is skeleton crew or less, where we need will be overrun in the middle of the day. Plus..."
He presses his lips together and looks up toward the now closed hatch. "Can't fit as many people in there if they haven't emptied the ship by the time we seize it."
My eyes narrow.
"So...we're going to let them clear it out for us?" Mia's voice is soft, but it has that same calculating tone that she usually does when she's puzzling something out.
"Yes." He nods. "They received a shipment today. By tomorrow they'll either fill it back up with exports or send it off. Tonight, though, it'll be empty."
...I don't know how Ivan gets this information.
And I even more don't know why they have anything to export here.
But that's not really information I need to know.
"...So we just have to sit here." Eric's voice is a low grumble. I'm inclined to agree with him. Sitting here is...
Well, I need to rest. I do. But at the same time...
It's hours off from twilight. I'm not sure why we moved so early if we were only going to wait here.
Maybe the path is less safe later in the day, or he worried we'd be spotted somehow if they weren't distracted?
There doesn't appear to be anything to do here while we wait, though. There's water - delicious water, at that - and of course there's conversation, but there's little else.
...Then again.
I'm beat.
I'm hot and dehydrated and exhausted.
The idea of sleeping until Ivan wakes me up - almost preferably even with the ship already in hand - is quite appealing.
Hestia's face is redder than usual.
Normally, I'd consider that to probably be a good sign, given how pale she usually looks.
But now I think it's probably because she's just as dehydrated and exhausted as me.
She settles down next to me, leaning her cheek against my shoulder.
"...Here." I say, lifting the same bottle Peter gave me.
It's.
Alarmingly empty.
I've drank more of it than I even consciously realized. There's only a little of it left - so I hope there's more where that came from.
But Hestia doesn't seem to mind there being so little left.
She accepts it gratefully, taking it with two hands and lifting it to her lips. I watch her throat move as she drinks the last of the bottle.
...I'm still parched.
I drank most of a bottle of water and the sandpaper feeling on my tongue hasn't changed at all.
Mia walks over to us, then, and holds out...two more bottles.
Where she got them from, I don't know. But I can't see all of the room from where I'm slouched, and I absolutely cannot be bothered to stand up and see.
So I accept it and nod my gratitude. I can't even muster the energy to give her a smile or even a proper 'thanks'.
I'm too thirsty and exhausted for that, but I'm sure I don't need to.
Mia has to understand, after all.
Hestia has no compunctions about helping herself, either. I can't blame her. I'd be the same, in her situation.
Eric has a couple of bottles himself. I can't see the guards, Ivan or Peter from where I am now - since Ivan walked over out of sight. Sinead manages to look at least a little graceful at the small table.
But she's drinking water just as greedily as Hestia.