I had no idea where Walther’s platoon might have been when he said he had to catch up with them. I hoped they were still at Civica and not stationed at some distant outpost. Maybe together with Bryn and Regan we could talk some sense into him—if I got there in time. Walther was in no state of mind to be riding anywhere. I wanted Greta’s death avenged too, but not at the cost of losing him. Of course, I was again supposing I’d be allowed to talk to anyone at all. I wasn’t sure what awaited me back in Civica.

The cistern was still at least an hour away. I remembered the first time I saw it, thinking it looked like a crown on top of the hill. For me it had been a marker of a beginning—now it would mark the end—the last place I’d meet with Rafe.

I tried not to think about him. My courage and resolve floundered when I did, but he was impossible to keep from my thoughts. I knew I had to tell him the truth about myself—why I had to say good-bye to Terravin and to him. I owed him that much. Maybe on some level, he already understood. Maybe that was why he didn’t try to talk me out of it. I understand about duty. I wished he didn’t.

“Water?” Pauline held out a canteen to me. Her cheeks were pink with the heat. How I longed for the cool breeze of the bay.

I took the canteen from her and swigged down a gulp, then poured some down my shirt to cool off. It was still early, but the heat on the road was already daunting. The riding clothes were stifling, but at least they offered some protection from the sun. I looked down at one of the many frayed tears in my trousers, the fabric peeling back to expose my knee, and I started laughing, laughing so hard I could scarcely catch my breath. My eyes watered with tears.

Pauline looked at me, startled, and I said, “Look at us! Can you imagine?”

My laughter caught hold, and she let loose with a snort and laughter too. “It might all be worth it,” she said, “just to see everyone’s jaw drop.”

Oh, jaws would certainly drop. Especially the Chancellor’s and the Scholar’s.

Our laughter quieted slowly, like something wound fist-tight, unraveling, and in seconds, it seemed like the whole world had fallen silent with us.

Listen.

I noticed the road was empty for once, no one ahead, and when I looked back, no one was behind us either. I couldn’t see far. We were in a basin between hills. Maybe that accounted for the prickly silence that suddenly surrounded us.

I listened carefully to the plodding of hooves on dirt. The chink and jingle of tack. The silence.

“Wait,” I said, putting my hand out to stop Pauline, and then in a whisper, “wait.”

I sat there hushed, my blood rushing in my ears, and cocked my head to the side. Listen. Pauline didn’t utter a word, waiting for me to say something. Bucktoothed Dieci hawed behind us, and I took a deep breath, shaking my head. “It was nothing, I guess. I—”

And then I saw it.

There was a figure on a horse in the shadows of scrub oak less than twenty paces from the road. I stopped breathing. The sun was in my eyes, so only when he emerged from the shadows could I see who it was. I let out a relieved sigh.

“Kaden,” I called, “what are you doing here?” We pulled our donkeys off the road to meet him. He brought his horse closer, leisurely, until he was only an arm’s length from me. Otto pulled on his reins and stamped, nervous with the towering horse so close to him. Kaden looked different—taller and stiffer in his saddle.

“I can’t let you go, Lia,” he said.

He came all the way out here to tell me that? I sighed. “Kaden, I know—”

He reached out and grabbed my reins from me. “Get down from your donkeys.”

I looked at him, confused and annoyed. Pauline glanced from him to me, the same confusion in her eyes. I reached out to snatch my reins back. He’d have to accept—

“Bedage! Ges mi nay akuro fasum!” he yelled, not to me, but toward the scrub of forest that he had just come from. More riders emerged.

I gaped at Kaden. Bedage? Disbelief left me immobile for a feverish second and then the truth stabbed me with horror. I yanked at the reins he still clutched in his hands, fury flashing through me, and I screamed for Pauline to run. It was chaos as horse slammed donkey and Kaden grabbed at my arms. I pulled away and tumbled from Otto. Our only chance of escape was running on foot and hiding in the thick scrub—if we could make it that far.

We didn’t even have time to move before the other horsemen were upon us. One of them snatched Pauline from Nove. She screamed, and another arm swiped at me. The silence had exploded into a fireball of noise from both man and beast. A husky hand grabbed at my hair, and I fell to the ground. I rolled and saw Pauline biting an arm that held her and getting away with the man on her heels. I didn’t remember grabbing it but my knife was clutched in my fist and I threw it—the blade hit her pursuer solidly in the shoulder. He screamed, falling to his knees and roaring as he pulled the knife out. Blood gushed from the wound. Kaden caught Pauline, seizing her from behind, and two thick arms clamped down on me at the same time. The wounded man continued to curse and roar in a language that I knew could only be Vendan.

I locked gazes with Kaden.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Lia,” he said. “You don’t want to get on Finch’s bad side.”

I glared at him. “Go to hell, Kaden. Go straight to hell.”

Unwavering, he never blinked, his steadfastness now transformed into something frighteningly detached. He switched his attention from me to a man near him. “Malich, this one will have to ride with you. I hadn’t counted on her.”