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Revni held his gaze. Her eyes were colorless, the shade of dusk. Eavus swallowed. How had he never noticed that pattern of freckles on her cheek before? It made a constellation.

She searched his eyes, her expression shifting to something complicated and unreadable. Eavus felt he should pull away, but her fingers tightened. “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

She paused. Whatever she was looking for, she hadn’t found. “That they burn a rune into an Isfolj’s forehead.”

The air rushed out of him again. “They what?”

“An Isfolj. When they sell them in the south. They get a rune. Burned right here.” She let go of his hand to point, and his palm felt a cavernous emptiness.

“I—No. I didn’t know. Revni, I never would have⁠—”

She swallowed, hard enough that he stopped talking. She stared at the shoreline.

“The child in Colcium. She tried to warn me. I didn’t understand.”

“Revni—”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

Doesn’t matter? Of course it mattered. He knew that Isfolj stayed in their own strongholds, he knew that slavers in Faen had certain leeway that didn’t apply to citizens—but he’d never imagined anyone capable of…

Gods, what had he put her through? He hadn’t known about the rune, but he’d known about the rest. He’d thought she was naive, but he was a damn, deliberate fool. Did he really think that just because he had managed, that would be true for everyone? Did he really think that every household would be as kind as Caea?

Did he really think that kindness, in any sort or fashion, mattered when someone else owned you?

His eyes burned, and he didn’t know where to put it. Eavus flexed towards her again, wanting to offer her any comfort—but maybe that wasn’t his right.

“Revni.”

Did he really think that not beating him regularly— That only one brand on his bicep— That selling him to be killed in a war— was kind?

She didn’t look over. Her own eyes were red and watery. But for a moment—gods, it was brief but sweet—she reached and took his hand. That she would offer him any semblance of forgiveness—it lightened and devastated him all at once.

This is what she did to him.

The child fussed, crawling and tugging, and Eavus’ hand felt the loss when she took hers away again.

“What do you think he wants?”

“What do you need, kid?” Eavus asked, but the baby just kept pulling on Revni and squirming to get out. “I don’t think he talks.”

Revni’s furrow suddenly shifted to understanding. She flipped the child’s back to her chest and dangled him over the edge of the boat just in time—before pee shot out of the kid like a fountain. At the look of genuine surprise on the kid’s face, Eavus snorted, the tension draining out of him. One more mess he hadn’t considered, that Revni somehow knew how to fix.

The river kept them at a good pace, the landscape thickening to woods similar to the ones Eavus and his cohort had traveled through before. Revni showed him how to pry the boat out of jetties or navigate around rocks so they could each get rest while the other steered, but at best he got a few minutes’ doze before getting jerked awake by another turn. It was probably even worse for Revni. Maybe the river didn't even have an end. Maybe it would not take them to the Muzzle and the monk, but only dump them directly into the ocean, and from there they’d simply drift to sea, ever eastward. The possibility didn’t seem so terrible. Except that east was Aleteria. Everything was Aleteria.

And then, as the blue light of dawn started to turn the trees to shadows, like Revni’s gods had called him up, or like Eavus had, with his disloyal thoughts⁠—

An Aleterian soldier. Eavus knew that build, that shaved head, that tunic, even with no belt or armor. An Aleterian soldier was taking a piss in the river. Eavus had a vague thought of How much piss is in this river? before the danger registered.

“Get down!” Eavus hissed, but it was too late. The little boat, drifting past the surprised face, was impossible to miss.

“What do we do?” Revni whispered. She had slid as far into the hull as she could, but she had the child pressed into her, and calling it a hull was generous. There was no place to go.

“Ho, there! Soldier!” The man kept pace, jogging along the shore to wave them down.

“Do we row?”