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“New settlers?” he said carefully.

Revni nodded.

“Alright,” he decided, but before she could breathe a sigh of relief, he plucked up her knife from the dirt—it was right there! How could she have missed it!—tucked it into his belt, and reached for her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

Revni dove. In seemingly one motion, she slammed the shield into his knee and then upwards, right underneath his chin. Then she turned and ran.

She couldn’t overpower him—she’d figured that out already—but if she could slow him down, she could lose him. The boats—they were leaving on the afternoon tide. She prayed to Tuyra, to Yesena, to Pjour: give me speed.

Her thighs were already burning from this morning’s events and wind seared her lungs and her bruised neck pulsed. Branches crashed behind her—the man following. Gods, did he ever stop? There was a gap ahead. The forest broke open and the gully appeared, the river quick and fast beneath her. There wasn’t time to pause, to consider the risks. Revni leapt.

FIVE

The girl disappeared. One minute she was there, the next gone. Eavus had been catching up, gaining despite his fresh limp and his wobbling vision, but now he cursed, his knee throbbing. He forced himself onward, pausing on the jutting edge of earth.

There. The streak of a thrashing limb, her head bobbing with the current. Was she swimming or was she drowning? It didn’t matter, really. He’d bring her body back either way. Eavus took a deep breath and jumped.

Wait! The thought was a flash, a nothing in a moment of weightlessness—or maybe it was clarity. Turn back!

Too late now.

The cold smacked into him so hard he gasped. The current yanked his cape around his throat and ripped the sword out of his hands. Eavus fumbled with his shoulder buckles, but another pull of water almost bashed him into a rock. His shoulder was screaming. He managed to swing the heavy fabric, only for something to slam into his face. His vision sparkled and he sucked up air and water, the offending log bobbing away in a rush. The girl— She was flailing, far ahead.

You can’t fight a river. Fifteen years old, naked and shivering on the banks of the Aru with the other poor saps being sent to Pinay. Wait, their trainer had instructed, for the soft spot where the current stills or shifts. Then he’d shoved them into the rapids.

Eavus forced himself limp. The water wrenched him where it wanted, and he caught a glimpse of the girl, pulling herself out, looking ragged. Her round shield was gone, floated away or destroyed. The swift water was rushing him towards her. Seconds more. The water raced him around another rock, and at the break in momentum, Eavus suddenly flipped, kicking as hard as he could, losing sight of her. He heaved himself to the mud, dripping and shivering and miserable. He’d lost his sword, godsdammit. Not even his sword. Costae’s sword. He had a whipping in his future. Now he was going to get cranky.

The cold water had done wonders for his bruised knee, however. He barely even felt it as he barreled up the hill, catching up with the girl in less than a minute’s run. The current had exhausted her more than him—she’d fought it, probably. She looked like she could barely stand—but Eavus wasn’t taking any chances. He grabbed her by the arm, yanked her around, and delivered a solid punch just above her jaw that snapped her head to the side.

The girl crumpled like a sheaf of wheat.

Good. Now at least she wouldn’t run. Eavus took a moment, panting with his hands on his thighs, the wound in his shoulder throbbing. How in the gods was he going to get back to his regiment? Eavus looked around. The sun was past its peak, and he had no idea where he was. He cursed again. They’d been on the move—Tadeus was the only one who knew the next meeting point. If he didn’t find everyone before sunset, he’d be a deserter. A deserter and a thief, since he took Costae’s sword. An unfamiliar twist of fear yanked on his gut. The punishment for thievery was a whipping. The punishment for a slave above his station was a flogging with short, knotted cords. The punishment for desertion was execution. Clubbed to death by your own men, or, if someone else caught you, evisceration, by any authority of Aleteria. Eavus’ intestines roiled. He could practically feel the knife blade in his gut.

He had to bring the girl back with him, that much was clear. Stupid Sev, putting ideas in his head. The commander will want to question her! What had he been thinking? That damn commendation— It really was a blight, wasn’t it? Every situation he was in, he couldn’t help but think, maybe this one! But really, Eavus? All this for some Isfolj girl? Eavus had never met an Isfolj, but that’s because they stayed in their territory. He’d probably get a handshake, not a final season shaved off his service. But now, without her, there was no way to prove why he’d run off. Costae and the others would explain, but no one would believe members of his own tent party, not without proof.

Eavus took a few more steeling breaths, trying to gauge his surroundings. The problem wasn’t just finding his regiment and getting her there. What tribe’s territory was he in now? The lines here were so blurry, particularly in this region with their overlapping rivers and inaccessible marshlands. Everyone claimed they owned something, and if you spoke the wrong language or sided with the wrong group…Eavus unlooped the rope on his belt with a heavy sigh. He was Aleteria. He was always the wrong group.

Eavus tied the girl’s hands as snugly as he could, then pinned her arms to her body and left the remainder long, like a leash. She spat and fought when he woke her up, but clearly she was still feeling the effects of being knocked out. Her focus wobbled. Eventually, Eavus got her on her feet and she followed willingly, like a dog.

Until Eavus paused to get his bearings. She took off so fast the rope left a burn on his palms.

Eavus caught up and tripped her to the ground, wrapping the lead rope around her throat and giving it a healthy pull to keep her still.

“I could squeeze this tighter,” he threatened.

The girl glared angrily, but she stilled.

“If I knock you out again, you’ll be so addled you won’t be helpful. If you’re not helpful, I don’t need you alive.”

The girl nodded tightly, the rope cutting into her neck. She blinked again, shaking her vision right, and when Eavus hustled her to her feet, she obediently followed.

They tromped through the woods for a good while in silence, Eavus taking his increasing frustration out on her wrists.

“That’s not helping,” she finally rasped after another hard yank forward. He had a pang of sympathy at her wincing squint—her head must feel like it was full of wasps, and the sunlight slanting through the trees was likely making it worse—but Eavus didn’t have the patience for injuries she had brought on herself.

“I need you to move faster. If we run into any locals, they’ll kill us both.”

“Why don’t you let me go, then?” she tempted. “You’ll move faster without me.”