White Sand, Volume 1 by Sanderson Brandon & Hoskin Rik

Author:Sanderson, Brandon & Hoskin, Rik [Sanderson, Brandon & Hoskin, Rik]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adult, Fantasy, Age Range 2 Older Audience, Comics
ISBN: 9781606908853
Amazon: 1606908855
Goodreads: 28862254
Publisher: Dynamite Entertainment
Published: 2016-06-21T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Kenton unlatched the bottom of the pole, releasing the tripod legs. He dug these into the sand, then rotated the box on the top of the pole, lining up the first of its sights with the moon, which hung in about sixth-hour position to the south.

Kenton bent down beside the pole, delicately maneuvering the box’s first sight until it exactly overlaid the moon. Then he locked the instrument’s controls and checked the compass on the sunmap’s side. It pointed due north, toward the pole, which lay somewhere in the northern Border Ocean. He measured the exact time of day, then spun the top of the pole, moving it to compensate for the moon’s position.

The second sight raised higher in the air than the first. By crouching down beside the sunmap, one could look past the second sight’s angles pointer up into the sky. When the second sight exactly overlaid the sun, they would be at their destination—the place where Reegent’s aides said he planned to go hunting. Kenton hoped the aides were right—with no landmarks besides the sun and the moon, searching in the kerla was nearly impossible. If Reegent weren’t at the coordinates specified, there would be no point in looking for him. Not only would it be futile, but one could easily wander onto deep sands.

“We need to go another two degrees east,” Kenton explained. “And about a half a degree south.”

Eric nodded, shading his eyes as he looked toward the sun. “I’ve always wondered if the Kershtians can really find their way without a sun-map.”

Kenton began to pack the sun-map, careful not to bend either of the wires holding the sighting hoops. “I doubt the ones who live in Lossand can. Their cousins in the kerla … maybe. Does it matter?”

“I suppose not,” Eric said, following Kenton down the side of the dune toward their mounts.

Kenton had to admit, despite his arguments against the mastrells’ flagrant use of power, having the golden sash was proving extremely useful. Ais waited at the base of the dune with their three rezalin, the fastest—and most expensive—sandling mounts on dayside. The creatures had two enormous legs in the back, limbs so large that the knees rose high into the air, far above the rest of the creature’s body. The front legs were short and powerful, and the creature stood at a sharp decline, its neckless head nearly touching the sand.

As long as maneuverability wasn’t an issue, a man riding a rezal could travel a dozen times faster than one on a tonk. The creatures needed several days to rest to store energy before-hand, but if they were rested they could run non-stop for nearly twelve hours. Kenton had only ridden a rezal one time in his life, and that had been as a child visiting a fair. His mother had paid twenty lak for a ten-minute ride. Now he could commandeer one with barely a whim.

Don’t get too used to it, Kenton, he told himself as he stuffed the sun-map into the rezal’s packs.

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