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“Of course, yeah.” His voice betrayed his embarrassment. He gestured behind her. “There’s a river. If we go upstream, it’s clean. It’s cold, though.”

“I’m used to cold.”

But it was almost impossible to push through the weakness in her knees, the panicked fluttering throughout every vein. She had never known fear like she had in that cage, a whole day of imagining what would happen tomorrow. Even now, only habit was holding her together. Her legs moved because that’s what legs did. Her eyes fixed on the line where Eavus’ tunic met his neck, a horizon to keep her from falling over. They picked their way quietly through the outskirts of the city, slipping between canvas stalls and the occasional new stone construction until they reached the walls. They were still being built, higher at some lengths than others, but easily surmountable. Eavus led her to a low U only three stones high, where people clearly crossed frequently enough that the dirt on either side was packed. The thin sliver of moon was bright. The river undulated silvery black.

“At this hour, you should have some privacy—” Eavus stopped himself when they made the turn. It wasn’t crowded, but there were several women there. Most kept themselves to their tasks, but a few raised their heads, appraising Eavus with a look Revni couldn’t interpret. Contempt was the closest word that came to mind. Quickly, she understood what they thought of her. Eavus coughed and turned his back.

“Go…do what you need,” he said awkwardly. “I’ll…be over here.” He went back to the wall and sat, staring off towards the dark river.

The women didn’t stay long. Most were dressed, in long, thin shifts they wore over only one shoulder, exposing their left breast, and they simply hiked the skirt up to wash their privates and left. Revni took off the cape and went all the way in, the cold biting at every inch. She wrestled the leather tie out of her hair and dunked her head, scrubbing dirt and grease from her scalp. Once again, she longed for the familiar smell of ammonia and thyme, the slip of seaweed between her hands to properly sponge herself clean. The leather tie tangled in her fingers, an eager worm, and she had a sudden, terrified urge to throw it as far as possible. But she tightened her hold on her instincts and looped it carefully instead. She had nothing in this world, and you never knew when you might need a good piece of lashing.

Her whole body felt numb and tender, like it was being held beneath a slab, and she was still too afraid to pry it off. Her father had once brought her the discarded skin of some foreign insect from his travels. She had shrunk, terrified of the giant bug poised in his palm, but her father had laughed and shown her the cut where the creature had simply exited its old body and left a perfect mold behind. Some of them, he told her, got trapped halfway in and halfway out, their new self unable to escape before the old shell hardened. This was what she had become—a beige shell. But was she the insect or the carcass?

The cold air hit her body even worse than the cold water. Two more women picked their way over the rocks to squat in the shallows. They reeked of perfume. Shivering, Revni sluiced, used Eavus’ cape to dry herself. One of the women spoke—long black hair, beautiful dark eyes. She switched to something more familiar—not Dinaeii but related—and Revni managed to catch a few words: “okay” and “hurt.” The woman’s face shifted, and Revni caught the word “young.” Revni flinched, at her empathy, at the hand stretching towards her. Eavus appeared. He spoke Aleterian. The woman gave Revni’s arm a quick, sympathetic squeeze, then waded into the river, shooting Eavus a final angry look.

“She thinks I’ve mistreated you.” Eavus kept his eyes firmly focused at some point on her forehead, but he wrapped the damp cape around her and furrowed his brow, looking for a way to secure it. Revni held up the leather tie. He huffed appreciation and poked it through two of the holes along the edge that typically attached it to his shoulder.

“Haven’t you?”

“Not the way she thinks,” he replied darkly. “Come on, we need to find you clothes.”

“What happened to my clothes?”

“They were sold.” Sold. Eavus kept her walking, back over the wall, back among the alleys and shoddy houses on the edges, the only businesses to set up shop near the encampment ones of ill repute, catering to off-duty soldiers and commanders stupidly rich with the spoils of war. Revni’s heart was thumping in her chest. Her clothes. Her thick wool socks. Her new boots. And then she gasped, coming to an inadvertent stop. Her mother’s ring.

Eavus pulled her to keep moving.

“I have money,” he said, as if that’s what she was worried about. “Not much, but it’s plenty to buy you something to wear. I’ll give you a little for food and transport, too. You should be able to get north. Find your people.”

Find her people. North. She couldn’t keep the thoughts straight in her head. How was she supposed to find them now? My ring, my ring, my ring. She had put her faith in the laws of men, in what she thought she knew about the world, and it had cost her everything.

Revni shrank against the sudden appearance of a guard at a break in the fence, but Eavus gave him a nod and proceeded directly into the encampment. Steering her by the elbow, he slipped behind tents and around wooden Ys staked into the ground, sodden bits of clothing hanging from them to dry. A few men gave whoops and whistles, but Eavus stiffened his steps and kept going. Revni resisted as they got deeper into the field, but Eavus didn’t slow.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe,” he said through his teeth. It didn’t feel safe. It felt like being led right into the heart of the enemy, into lines and lines of tents, and men that wanted to see her dead.

Only they didn’t want to see her dead. The more people and fires she passed, the more she shifted closer to Eavus and clutched the cape tighter, keeping up with him until they were practically at a jog. No, death was not what the soldiers were thinking of.

They reached a tent that looked like all the others, but Eavus clearly recognized the difference. He gave a quick glance to make sure no one was watching and then pushed her inside.

Revni didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t three men on tiny cots, one of whom was awake and staring at her wide-eyed. Eavus put a finger to his lips and the dark-skinned man heaved an annoyed sigh. He pushed himself to seated, grabbed his boots and his belt, and left. Eavus clapped him on the shoulder as he went. The tent flap settled over the opening with a dull thump. A line of scalloped orange light edged the base, showing the positions of the guy ropes.

Eavus guided her towards the dark bunks at the back. Revni’s pulse quickened. Her breath grew short. There was nothing but a slim aisle, no way to escape, and nowhere to escape to.

She spun, frantic—finally, her instincts shoving past her numb fear—but Eavus caught her arms. “Please,” she begged. He clapped a hand over her mouth and she hated the tears springing to her eyes.

Eavus had a brief moment of confusion before his brow darkened. “After all this time?” he growled.

Revni exhaled shakily. She knew nothing anymore.

“Sevenius will sleep through anything.” He glanced toward the body closest to the front. “But if Reco hears you, he’ll tell my commander. And we’ll both be punished.” Carefully, and at her nod, he let go. He tilted his chin to the back, and she went. When they reached the last low cot, Eavus shifted her to the side so he could dig into the leather bag behind it. He handed her spare clothes, shifted her again, then turned his back and crossed his arms, blocking the aisle.

Revni’s heart was thumping like mad. Now that she’d let any emotion through, her eyes kept going hot. She didn’t want to cry, not here, not now. The wool tunic and pants were much too large for her—the sleeves fell past her fingertips, and she could have fit two of herself in the pants with room to spare. They smelled like Eavus. And wet sheep. If Eavus had rolled in a sheepfield in the rain, the outfit captured the experience perfectly.

“I need a belt,” she whispered.

He glanced at her over his shoulder and stifled a laugh. Something like a smile pulled at her, a hairline crack in the ice she had become. Eavus nicked into the kit of the bunk next to his and produced a piece of rope identical to the one he’d used to tie her when they met. She held in a shudder as she looped it around her waist. If she’d looked like a toddler before, she looked like an ill-packaged sack of flour now.