A formless, subtle wind swept the landscape away and replaced it, sculpting the red sand into drifts and eddies. The sky was high and ancient, catching black birds in its cloudless net and sending them in spirals. The heat settled onto Lissa’s skin and burrowed in, heating her blood and breath. It was not an empty landscape as she first thought, but a clean one, the kind of land where you had to face nothing but yourself.

“Perfect isn’t it?” Gideon stood next to her looking out onto an endless vista that blurred at the arc of the horizon.

“Where are we?”

“We’re on the edge of humanity,” he said, “A place that no one goes unless they are lost or searching.”

“Are you going to speak in riddles now, oh venerable Sensei?” Lissa grimaced.

He explained that this was the perfect place to begin her training, a place as pliable and open as a person’s soul, a place they would not be found. She shivered. The dreams had come every night since the first time, and she was run ragged, her eyes hollow and grainy, her skin tight on her bones from lack of sleep and fear.

“We’re protected here,” he said. “No one can find us unless we allow it. It belongs to the Tesero.”

“Who are they really?’

“They are the source. Now, stop asking questions and wait for the answers to find you.

“First, we have to build your body.”

“Uh, I’m in pretty good shape, you know.”

“Good!” he called over his shoulder, “Then follow me.”

He sprinted off across the sands and Lissa started after him feeling the warm wind give wings to her feet. She sprinted past him laughing, feeling so free, so good out here in the sunshine with this strange man and her whole uncertain future ahead of her. She thought a moment of how she had run and jumped off the edge of the plateau. What if Gideon had arrived a split second later?

“That would never have happened.” He stopped, turning to her, his gray eyes full of hot desert light. “All your life there has only been the moment of me coming to you. Nothing could have changed that.”

“Did you just read my mind?”

“Do you understand prophecy?”

“It’s a prediction.”

“More than that. It’s destiny. You and I here now, this is destiny, part of something bigger than us, bigger than this desert, than that sky. We don’t know what it is yet, but it’s the only truth there is, the one that guides us and pulls us forward. Now that you’re here, there’s no turning back. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I’m afraid.”

“I know. Fear can keep you in balance sometimes, keep you from being reckless. You’re only afraid because you don’t know your strengths. Soon you will.” Without even taking a breath he took off again and she followed on his heels until the sand pulled at her feet and her breath felt like fire in her lungs. “I have to stop. I may not know my strengths but I definitely know my weaknesses.”

Gideon’s face was expressionless and she thought suddenly that she didn’t know him at all. He was a man, but not like ordinary men. His presence, his flesh and bones and breath were all focused, distilled, honed to a perfect control. It was unnerving.

“You will push past every weakness that you know you have, and then go beyond that. It’s only after you’ve given everything, all that you can and more, that you will succeed.” He lay on his belly on the sand and motioned for her to copy him. The sand scorched her skin and she protested.

“Pushups,” he demanded.

She lost count at twenty-five and finally dropped trembling to the sand, hoping it would just incinerate her and end her suffering. “You didn’t tell me this was going to be boot camp,” she muttered.

His face softened. “I didn’t say it would be easy.”

“You made it sound like we were going to sit out here and meditate.”

“We’ll do some of that too. Let’s go back to camp and get some dinner.”

She hadn’t realized how far they had run, and by the time she had slogged back across the desert, helped set up a canvas tent, and started the portable fire she couldn’t do anything but sit and stare at the plate Gideon had filled with some kind of mush and beans.

“Eat up,” he said cheerfully, apparently enjoying his role of torturer. “You’ll need your strength.”

She glared at him and shoveled a spoonful in. It tasted… healthy. Her eyes were so heavy she couldn’t keep them open by the time the plate was empty.

In the tent, two cots were spaced on opposite sides and a small canvas wall lay between them. She lay down in her clothes and listened to him cleaning up after dinner.

He came in with a hushed pull of the canvas and lay on his own cot where she could hear him breathing steadily and deeply in the darkness. Her last thought before drifting off was that he was too far away.

Morning dusted the tent with madder and ochre and gold. The glow lifted her eyelids open. Outside a bird wheeled and cried. It was early and the canvas was coated with dew, the heat hadn’t yet reclaimed the land. Lissa got out of bed, wincing at sore muscles, but still feeling good. She peeked carefully around the canvas curtain and was surprised to see Gideon still asleep.

His shirt was off and the sheet thrown back. His arm lay thrown over his head. He was like a carving, each muscle fine and delineated, perfectly placed. His lips were full and gently parted, his breath even and silent. His hair lay splayed on the pillow, and Lissa thought he looked vulnerable and incredibly beautiful.

Uh oh, she thought, and he opened his eyes. They were both caught off guard and remained still for a second before Lissa felt his concern, his startled surprise at the naked emotion on both their faces. She almost heard his feelings, as though he had spoken his thoughts into her head, This might be a mistake, before it was replaced by a gray wall of silence, and he sat up and smiled as though nothing had taken place, as though the most treacherous thing of all hadn’t just reared its head and made them both fragile in a way they hadn’t expected.

“Good morning,” he said. “Did you rest well?”

“Unbelievably.”

“No dreams?”

“No dreams. What time do you think it is?”

“There’s no time here, only the passage of eons, sand, water, sun. You have to let go of all the things that hold you in illusion.”

“Is everything an illusion or just, say, hot dogs and zombies?”

“What’s a hot dog?”

“Are you serious? You really were raised in isolation.” Lissa remembered camping with her parents,

roasting hot dogs, marshmallows, just the three of them and a billion stars in the sky.

“The stars are real,” Gideon said.

“Hey! You just read my mind again!”

“I can’t help it sometimes. Your mind just falls into mine.”

They considered each other carefully. A restless wind lifted the flaps of the tent and entered to ruffle their hair. Lissa looked out the entrance at the horizon. “What do you think they’re like, the others? Are they like us?”

He rose and reached for his shirt while she watched the flex of his ribs out of the corner of her eye. He came and stood beside her. “I don’t know. I’ve always felt like part of me was missing. No. More than just a part, a huge chunk of who I am. I think when we find the others we’ll make up something greater somehow.”

“I feel whole now, more whole than I’ve ever been.” Had she said that out loud, it didn’t really matter. Did it?

“When we’ve completed what we need to here, we’ll go and find them.”

“What if they’re all dead?” She felt cold despite the heat and leaned toward him.

“You would know if they were. You would feel a blackness, a hole where the rest of us should be. I’m sure of it.

“It’s time to get started.”

Lissa turned her eyes to his. “Are you preparing me for war?”

Gideon ran a hand through his hair. “This is a mental war. Whatever abilities we have, whatever their source, they come forward when our minds and bodies are in balance. First we have to get you in balance, and then we can hone your skills.”

“How long will we be here?”

“That’s up to you.” He held the flap open and gestured her out into the sun.

Lissa had a feeling that once she knew what she was capable of she would not want to leave, she would want to stay here in this desert solitude, just her and Gideon. Because once she harnessed her power she became a target, a valuable commodity.

She thought of the dreams; somehow they had not been able to follow here. In the distance a coyote howled, and she was sure that was the sound of eyes watching.