Leti shook her head. “We crossed at one on the way south, but that was many miles to the east of here.” East was the way they’d come, where the Beast might be following. “In any case, I doubt it is passable with the water so deep.”
“We certainly can’t swim it,” Winter said. “And I wouldn’t trust any boat we could build in that.”
Leti nodded silently. Winter watched her for a moment, then looked back to the water. They always look to me for answers.
“We’ll follow the bank and head west,” she said, trying to sound authoritative. “What we really need is a small ship and someone to sail it. That way we can drop you off on the north bank and get ourselves downriver. There must be towns and villages along here, and we can bargain with them.”
“They are spread thin this far east, but yes,” Leti said.
I hope we find something sooner rather than later. Every day the Beast grew stronger. More immediately, Winter would feel a lot better when she was able to put distance between her and the red-eyes behind them. Still, we’ve been lucky. We’d never have gotten this far without the Haeta.
“Winter,” Leti said again.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” The girl’s face scrunched up, and she took a deep breath.
Winter cocked her head. “What?”
“I thought...” Leti looked down. “Would you care to share my tent tonight?”
“Your...” That took a moment to sink in. “Oh.”
“I know you don’t share our ways,” Leti said quickly. “But I thought you might... like to try.”
Winter ran a hand through her hair—it was getting longer than she liked, out here in the wilderness—and stared at Leti. She was pretty, though Winter hadn’t thought about it much until now. Compact and athletic, with small breasts and lean muscles, dark hair pulled back in a short braid. Her eyes were wide and blue.
There’s no reason I shouldn’t. She and Cyte had never spelled out the parameters of their relationship, after all. And in all probability Winter would never see Cyte again—even if she made it back to Vordan, she still had to confront the Beast, and one way or another she doubted she was coming back from that. So what’s the harm?
Logical, she supposed. And yet she didn’t find herself tempted. It wasn’t that Leti was too young—there was only half a decade between them, after all—or that she didn’t find her attractive, in the abstract, but—
“I’m sorry,” Winter said. “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.”
“To be with another woman is so terrible for you?” Leti’s eyes shone with tears.
“It’s not that. I’m...” Taken? Married? “Promised. To someone else.”
Leti frowned. “But...” She stopped, shook her head. “Southerners are strange people.”
“I agree,” Winter said. “I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“No.” Leti shrugged, though her expression betrayed her casual tone. “You have every right to refuse. And perhaps it is for the best.”
“Maybe.” Winter looked back up the slope, sniffing the air. She patted Leti on the shoulder. “Come on. I smell dinner.”
*
The evening was a pleasant one, with plenty of food for once and a merry fire. Some of the Haeta danced while others sang and clapped along. Some, Winter couldn’t help but notice, slipped off in pairs to their tents. Leti retired early, alone, and as the sun sank down into the water of the Bataria, the girls who were left at the fire began to drift away to their own pursuits. Abraham had long since gone to sleep, and Alex, sitting in the dirt beside Winter, was yawning.
“I wish we had a better map,” Winter said. The one they’d brought from the Mountain showed only the rivers and a few major cities. “We could be walking for weeks before we find civilization.”
“Probably not weeks,” Alex said. “The Murnskai army has regular garrison posts along these rivers for courier traffic, though I have no idea if they’re still manned.”
“If not, let’s hope they’ve left their boats behind,” Winter said. “Even a sturdy rowboat would be something. We could take the Haeta over the river in shifts.”
“Better than staying on this side,” Alex agreed. She yawned again. “Coming to bed?”
“Not quite yet,” Winter said. “I want to think for a while.”