"They won't catch me," I said. "Not if I can help it." But his despondency was catching. I felt a bleak, gray hopelessness. I was so tired, so sick of running.
"Goodbye," Almarah said. "I would wish you luck but..." his voice trailed away and he shrugged.
I left him, and that ancient ruinous city behind the dunes, running when I could and walking when I couldn't, slipping when the sand gave way beneath me and sent me tumbling down. My pack was a reassuring weight, bouncing up and down against my hot back. The small box inside jabbed me now and then with its corners and in my mind's eye the Universe inside swirled and spun like a jewel in a storm.
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