1

The company stared out over a range of swirling dunes. They were piled taller than Anina dreamed possible, each sifting and spinning at alarming speeds in every direction. There were no visible patterns to their rotations, as each dune turned at its own velocity and in a route different from any nearby counterparts. Whatever lay beyond that tumultuous sea of sand was impossible to see. The rolling and cascading of those earthen hills kicked up dust as they roared across the earth, and their paths moved in a never-ending dance, weaving one between the other so that no opening was ever left visible for long. It was a torrent of red earth and pink mist--mile after mile of sentient desert, even more treacherous than the hot, baren wasteland of Chanta behind them.  

"The Red Tempest," Garek said with a knowing apprehension. "Hivek Sranov, in our language--something like 'Angry Sands' in yours. Only the machinations of the Sranovi can guide you across."

As if to demonstrate his point, he picked up a hand-sized stone from the ground and thrust it towards one of the dunes. For a few seconds they were able to see the stone was flung violently around the tumultuous dune, then dipped from their sight forever. The wrinkles of their guide's wizened eyes seemed to tighten in deep thought, gazing dolefully across the raging sea of land, and he stroked his beard. Flecks of sand were already clinging to the black and gray of it, though his shoulder-length hair was pulled back tightly and protected under the weight of his hood. 

"I do not envy you. But if you mean to cross, I will aid you how I can. Come, we'll make a signal so the Sranovi know to look for us."

"How do they move like that?" Nah'vel jogged up alongside their guide as he led them into the mass of stones. The path followed downward into a tunnel they had not seen between the rocks, leading into the earth. 

"I wouldn't know the science behind it," Garek shrugged. "It's something to do with...magnets? Magnetism? We know it doesn't go too deep into the earth but with how deadly the dunes can be, no one has been able to get close enough to the heart of it to study. Bah, no one left here ever really cared enough to try it anyway. What we can understand is how to get through it, which I hope is enough. But all the same, no harm in your asking." 

He gave the Toquanan a hefty pat of reassurance on the shoulder that almost sent Nah'vel stumbling over, then ducked into the low entrance of the tunnel. The others followed him in.

At first only shadows greeted them, but as their eyes accustomed to the darkness, the found that around a sharp and sudden bend of stone, the roof overhead opened up. It led higher and higher above their heads, until their path led them into a wide-open room. Tents, tables, pottery, and amenities were scattered throughout the large room. They had clearly entered the camp of a small village. The room itself was the same redstone as the desert above them, though it did not seem to sift and sway like the towering dunes. A faint rush could be heard high above them.

"Welcome to the undercity," Garek said. "Make yourself comfortable while I tell the others what is going on."

Curious faces began to emerge from out of tends and around the pillars of natural redstone that seemed to support the roof of the enclosure. Garek called out to an amassing group of locals in their own dialect. As they spoke, Nah'vel inched closer to Anina. 

"Can you tell what they're saying?" he whispered. 

"Not exactly," she smiled sheepishly. "I can tell his intentions are good. He seems to be reflecting on us...but it's hard to tell. He's far away and this language is unfamiliar to me."

Nah'vel shot a curious look at their hosts but said nothing. After a time, Garek returned to them. 

"All is well," he assured them. "They are starting work on the signal now. But until then, come, have food and drink with us. We want to hear about this strange company of yours--and I'm sure you have questions, too. Come, you can ask while we walk. The community dining hall is ahead."

"Do you all live here?" Shilyon had been observing tents as they passed. Many of the villagers sat in front of different tents, weaving and carving or talking with neighbors around them. A small group of children who had been playing a game now huddled together and whispered curiously as the strangers walked by.

"That we do," Garek answered proudly. "We started out as a few rangers from Chanta, looking for a new life away from the famine. We found this place totally by accident--one of our livestock fell into an opening about a half mile away. When we finally made it down to look for the beast, we found there was a series of tunnels and quite a few large rooms like this dug out. No one ever knew it was here, or if they did, they never spoke of it. We don't know who or what carved it; but it saved the lives of all in our town from the elements, and for that we are gratef-- wait! Step aside!" 

Garek put out a large hand to usher those closest to him against the wall. A quick burst of sand that slipped from the ceiling above them, leaving a small pile on the floor where they had just been. 

"Ah, I forgot to warn you. If you hear a hiss, move. Unless you enjoy being dunked in sand baths."

"We're below the dunes?" Nah'vel gawked. 

"Only some of the rooms. This passage touches a part of the under-dunes, yes."

"How? The earth above us seemed so solid and--"

"My friend," Garek chided with an amused twinkle in his eye. "If I could not tell you how the dunes turn, how could I tell you why the earth above us is still? Maybe the dunes are angry, maybe the earth sleeps. Who knows!" 

He chuckled as he led them through another opening into one of the Great Rooms beyond.