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“You said we should clean up.”

Revni reached out for both his hands, hauling him to standing. She was smiling with all her teeth, but maybe he didn’t notice.

“You’re such a little monster.” Eavus grinned, shaking water off himself like a dog.

Revni squeezed his fingers, panic flooding her. She shifted her hold, feeling for the band, another finger maybe? Running her fingers along his.

No ring.

Eavus stilled. His eyes traveled over her face, dipping to her mouth, and she got a sudden warm feeling, low in her belly. His fingers, for a moment, seemed to tighten. Revni let go.

“You needed a bath more than me. Stinky.”

Her heart was too fast. Her eyes scanned the riverfront, the flat stones where he’d been beating their clothes, their meager pile of belongings— Where could it have gone?

Eavus heaved himself out of the water, his tunic clinging to his muscled legs. He sluiced water off his arms.

“Get yourself out.” He grinned again, then bent down and tossed her pants into the river. “And do your own laundry!” He chuckled, bending once more—only to pluck up her ring, place it right back onto his pinkie, and walk back up the bank.

Angrily, Revni swam after her pants. The river was pulling them downstream and she’d end up half-naked.

He had taken the cursed ring off to clean the clothes. She’d just missed his doing it. If she’d waited, kept him talking— When would she ever learn patience?

Revni snagged the sodden clothing, slowing.

Just because she always took second watch didn’t mean she had to.

If he was waiting for her to fall asleep—so he could tie her up or knock her out—two could have the same plan. She could take first watch, then a good hard clunk to his head with the handle of her ax. He’d have a headache in the morning, but she could slip the ring from his finger and follow the road all the way to Lordinius before he woke.

Revni ducked under, scrubbing off her own feelings of guilt along with the dirt.

It wasn’t a betrayal. They were shield siblings, it was true, but she was still protecting him, as best as she was able. This was the only kindness she could offer—Because the alternative was to have him thrown in a cage for a thief, whipped, punished. And maybe he deserved it, but maybe he’d earned his way out of it, all the ways they’d saved each other. She hadn’t thought of last night, of curving their warmth together, but now she did, the way his whole face softened when they sat before the fire, his eyes taking in the leaves and the birds and the stars. His strong hands, pulling her to safety. Just now, the way they’d held onto hers.

All she had to do was perform her role for one more night—obey, follow his lead, be kind and quiet and submissive—and then, when he fell asleep…

She’d be free.

TWENTY-ONE

Eavus had pulled their things into the last spot of sun, hoping to dry off, but any warmth was thin and he scrubbed as much water off himself as he could with his hands. Frankly, he didn’t mind being a little less grimy, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been yanked into a freezing river against his will. He twisted her ring on his pinkie, considering.

Why hadn’t he given it back? He knew it made her nervous. She thought she was being subtle, but her eyes devoured it, like he was dancing roast lamb in front of a lion. He’d even made something of a game of it, turning it to reflect the light, to see if it made her flinch.

It always did. And then he felt that stupid delighted lift every time, like they were part of an inside joke, like they were two soldiers on patrol, Maener mocking his growling stomach.

Oh, gods. Had he become Maener? That was sobering.

Eavus gave his eating knife a few swipes on the stone so he could shave. He considered leaving the growth at first. Would his story be more believable if he looked disheveled? In the end he left his scalp for the barber, but the thought of going before a commander he’d never met with ragged stubble, possibly even a general, was more than he could properly bear. There were standards to uphold.

Why were they still out here, with Lordinius so close? It was poor timing, their arrival. That was it. He hadn’t lied, not once, about the night gates or anything else. Well, he hadn’t translated what Kena had tried to tell Revni back in Colcium, that was true, and the shame of that sat like a stone. It wasn’t a lie, just an omission. Like so many others.

But if they’d hustled, if he’d wanted to rap on the doors and give a string of names to the guard, they could have been led straight to the barracks. He could have had warm stew in his belly right now instead of saving the last of the odd bean dish that man in the caravan had given them. It smelled of farts and caraway. Why was he delaying?

Why had he chosen Lordinius at all? Raponum had only been two days west, back in Colcium. Or was it Tinoc? Either way, there were Aleterian forts closer, and he could have been done with the whole matter. Instead, he’d picked the mouth of the beast. He needed allies, he reminded himself. He wasn’t safe yet. Every regiment recamped to Lordinius after a few months in the field, for a short rest, restructuring the cohorts, new orders. Aleterian troops marched up and down this island like ants to their nests, carrying loads and back again. It seemed such a superfluous waste of time. Why not just send them somewhere and leave them permanently stationed?

But he knew the answer to that: Because they didn’t want the troops getting too comfortable. He’d learned that in the North, among the people Revni called Gerstunt. He’d been stationed in those mountains for almost two years, and Eavus had been in enough battles there, dug enough forts, captured enough prisoners and cleared enough villages that learning the language was inevitable. And it had only made the job harder. Unintelligible babbling was like the sound of an ax on wood or a rake on stone—the noise of work, irritating, but easy to ignore.

Once you knew the words, it sounded like people.