So strange.

Etana watched her body from above as Areg picked it up and hauled it over his shoulder. The next moment, he was running again, this time in front of Rhori, who followed, gripping Etana’s hand. A couple of minutes later, they reached the edge of the square and ducked into the alley. As they charged down its debris-strewn length, Areg carried Etana with surprising ease.

Actually, her body looked like an oversize hand puppet, hanging limply with the limbs dangling against Areg’s back and front. As for her soul, it hovered close by as if towed with an invisible cord.

Did that mean she was still alive? Maybe not even entirely unconscious, seeing as not a person in Cinder Alley moved besides Rhori and Areg.

The air was perfectly still.

Two cops, transfixed, had their mouths open, as if shouting, but no sound came out. Could they see or hear anything? Not likely.

A stray dog scavenging for food in a pile of garbage didn’t wag its tail or growl. Not a muscle moved. No odor came off the vomit-splattered trash. The urine rivulets and droppings they passed smelled of nothing. Compared to the avalanche of sounds, scents and colors she’d experienced earlier, the world seemed dead.

Except, it wasn’t.

The last sliver of her consciousness and control was slipping away, and Etana felt infinitely tiny particles of matter warming. Stirring. Just before she blacked out, she heard the quietest rustle. It was a crumpled newspaper drifting along the wall, pushed by the wind.

* * *

A double attack on her senses brought Etana to. First, a sharp smell of damp mixed with mold invaded her nostrils. Next, a clingy, feathery gauze wrapped around her face. She screamed.

“Thank Aheya!” Rhori cried out somewhere near her.

Strong hands held her, lowered her to the floor and leaned her against a wall. Someone… Areg… yanked the gauze from her face. Her legs wobbled as if they were made of cotton wool. She’d never felt so weak in her entire life. Even opening her eyes seemed like a monumental task. Her mouth was dry.

“Where are we?” The words had come out in a whisper, but at least they’d come out.

“Cornfields just outside Iltaqa.” Rhori hugged her. “You gave me a scare, Etti! I feared you’d… you’d…”

“I told you she’d just passed out,” Areg said, slumping to the floor next to them. “She was breathing.”

“What was that thing on my face?” Etana asked him.

“A cobweb.”

“How long was I out?”

Rhori finally let go of her. “About an hour.”

With considerable effort, Etana opened her eyes and looked around. They were in a small cottage. A shack, more like. It had just one room with a door and two dirty broken windows. A blackened stone fireplace reigned supreme in the otherwise unfurnished space. Not a table, trunk, or chair to sit on. Belly-up bugs lay in the thick layer of dust on the window sills, accentuating the desolation of the house. Dust motes floated in a ray of light coming in through the broken glass.

Something moving across the wooden floor passed through the light—a spider. It scurried toward them, then changed course and retreated into a corner.

“Life’s back on.” Etana pointed out the spider. “The enchantment… or whatever it was… it’s broken.”

“It stopped abruptly after you fainted,” Areg said. “The funny thing is that nobody looked confused or even surprised when they woke up.”

The spider ducked into a gap between floorboards.

Rhori nodded. “They just carried on, acting like nothing had happened. You know? Like they hadn’t spent a good twenty minutes petrified.”

Both men were now looking at her, an unspoken question in their eyes.

“I don’t know how I did it.” Etana spread her arms. “I don’t even know what exactly it was that I did. Or if it was me doing it.”

Areg shifted closer to the grimy window, pulled himself up a little and peered out.

“Doesn’t look like we were followed.” He sat down again and turned to Etana. “It was you.”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.” Rhori winked at her. “Do you think you could do that again?”

She was having a tough time lifting her hand and gathering her thoughts. She simply didn’t have the energy to do something like that again. Etana shook her head.

“I’m sorry.” Rhori scrunched his face. “That was a stupid question.”

She knew she couldn’t. But she also knew she’d die trying if Areg’s life depended on it.

“I could give it a shot,” she said looking from Rhori to Areg. “Maybe in a couple of hours, after I’ve rested—”

“You shouldn’t.” Areg’s tone was firm. “I saw what it did to you, Etana. You could’ve died.”

“But you said I was breathing—”

“Barely. Truth be told, I wasn’t at all sure you’d pull through.”

She jutted her chin up. “But I did. All I need is a bit of time to recover, and then I’ll—”

“Go home.” Areg took her hands in his. “As soon as you’re strong enough to walk, you and Rhori should go home.”

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

Areg encased her hands between his and leaned forward. “I’ll never forget in this life or the next what you did for me, Etana Tidryn.”

She swallowed.

His touch was gentle and his voice soft, but she hated every word he’d said. And she hated even more that she knew what he’d say next.

“Nobody saw you running away with me,” he said. “With any luck, Ultek hasn’t figured out your involvement yet. He and his men will be too busy combing the area for me.”

He turned to Rhori. “This is your chance to leg it back to town so you’re home to open the door when Ultek comes knocking. Because he will.”

“Will he believe Etana had nothing to do with your escape?” Rhori asked.

“Over the course of my many interrogation sessions, I’ve come to know Ultek quite a bit.” Areg smirked. “He’ll come up with a conspiracy theory, blaming my escape on the Teteum Secret Service, an enforcer operation, or the work of a team of rich-bloods from LORSS. I doubt he’ll suspect a local girl of pulling a stunt like that.”

“And Boggond?”

Areg shook his head. “He’s too arrogant, too disparaging about menials, to suspect her.”

“Fine. What about you?” Rhori leveled his gaze with Areg’s.

Without releasing Etana’s hands, Areg pointed his chin to the blaster by his side. “I have this.”

“If I go back,” Etana said. “Ultek won’t leave me alone, whether he suspects me or not.” She turned to Areg. “Remember what he said on our wedding night?”

He nodded once, his mouth a hard line.

Etana lifted her head. “I’d rather die than end up in his basement.”

Suddenly, Areg’s eyes lit up. “There’s another way. Reach out to Aynu as soon as you’re back in Iltaqa. She’ll help.”

“Aynu…” Rhori furrowed his brow. “As in Her Royal Glory Prioress Aynu Eckme?”

“Yes, that one—the vestal who sang at my botched beheading.” Areg’s lips twitched in a barely perceptible smile. “She’s a childhood friend and a wonderful person. She’ll find a way to protect Etana from Ultek.”

“How do we find her?” Rhori asked.

“Go to Orogate tomorrow morning.” Areg unclasped the serpent coil from his neck and placed it in Etana’s hand. “Tell the first vestal you’ll see at the temple who you are and ask her to show this to Aynu.”

Etana studied the small gold ouroboros on a thin black leather string. Like everyone else, Areg must’ve received it from his parents as a toddler on the day of his Nine Blessings. Like everyone else, he was supposed to wear it until Aheya claimed his soul.

“You’ll have it back,” she vowed.

He took it from her and slipped the string around her neck, so it rested next her own serpent coil. “Of course.”

Was there irony in his voice?

“What you need to do as soon as you can,” Rhori said to Areg, “is seek out Timm Itkis. I’ll put the word out that you’re looking for him.”

“Who’s Timm Itkis?” Etana and Areg asked at the same time.

“A traveling salesman.”

Areg arched an eyebrow.

“A highly specialized traveling salesman.” Rhori flashed a sly grin. “If you need fake papers or smuggled level-two tech, he’s your man.”

Etana couldn’t help a frown. “I didn’t know you mingled with people like that.”

“Back in my wrestling days, every prizefighter was told to reach out to him if he accidentally killed his opponent.” Rhori chuckled at how wide Etana’s eyes had grown. “I managed not to kill any of mine, so I never met him. But I hear he’s still in business.”

“I’ll look for him when the dust settles.” Areg surveyed Rhori. “A prizefighter, huh? You do have the right built and size, but—” He opened his mouth as if to add something, then thought better of it.

“But I seem too gentle for a prizefighter, right?” Rhori voiced his unspoken words.

Areg shrugged as if to say, Sorry, man, but it’s the truth.

Rhori’s grin broadened. “You’re right. I’m no bully. Never enjoyed fighting. But it’s the fastest legal, erm… sort of legal, way a menial man can make enough money to pay for tools and an apprenticeship with a craft guild.”

“I should’ve guessed.” Areg shifted his position. “It would’ve taken you… let’s see… fifteen years on a soldier’s salary?”

“Twenty,” Rhori said.

At some point in their hushed conversation, Etana stretched out on the floor and fell asleep.

When she woke up, the last rays of sunlight kissed the cottage goodbye before disappearing for the night. Her energy grew slowly. She was still weak, but she could now flex the muscles on her arms and legs, sit a little straighter and speak normally.

She could feel Areg watching her and could almost hear him assessing how much time she would need to leave the shack with Rhori’s help. Cringing inwardly at her subterfuge, she made herself sit stiller. She wasn’t ready to go away, not until she’d had a word with him alone.

Raindrops tapped lightly on the roof and the remaining glass in the windows but didn’t escalate into a proper shower. Something howled, then another one, and a couple more.

Etana turned to Rhori. “Bearwolves?”

She could never tell by the howl.

“No, just regular wolves.” Rhori gave her a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry, there’s no way they can get in.”

She smiled, fidgeting. “I know that. Problem is I need to go out.”

Two pairs of male eyebrows shot up at that.

“To the outhouse.” Etana rolled her eyes. “I need to pee.”

Areg picked up the blaster and stood. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’ll go first to make sure it’s safe.”

He was out the door the instant she nodded.

It was getting dark, and Etana had to squint to see his outline through the window. He crossed the backyard, stepped into the outhouse, walked out and around it. She lost sight of him for a moment, and then suddenly he was opening the squeaking door to the cottage.

“It’s safe to use and not too disgusting. There’s even a wash stand behind.” He strode to Etana and helped her to her feet. “Can you walk, leaning on my arm? Otherwise, I’ll carry you.”

Rhori cleared his throat loudly.

Etana turned to her brother. What was that about?

“Right.” Areg rubbed the back of his head, looking from Rhori to Etana. “We’re not actually married. It would be inappropriate… Rhori—”

“I’ll accompany her,” Rhori said.

He planted himself next to Etana and offered his arm to lean on.

Areg pointed to the blaster. “I’ll take care of the wolves if they come too close.”

“Thanks, but just so you know, I’m not entirely helpless.” Rhori pulled a folding hunting knife out of his pocket. “I’m really good with this.”

There was a boyish pride in Rhori’s voice Etana would’ve found endearing in other circumstances.

“Of course, you are,” Areg said, grabbing his gun and heading outside, regardless.

She turned to Rhori. “I don’t care who walks me to the outhouse, but I need a moment alone with Areg.”

“Oh.” He winced, flushing. “That was dense of me, eh?”

As they stepped out, he touched Areg’s shoulder. “You take her. I’ll keep watch.”

With Etana’s legs still wobbly, and darkness thickening, it took them over five minutes to cover the short distance to the outhouse. As they walked around the tall weeds reclaiming the backyard, Etana opened her mouth several times intending to speak, but closed it again without uttering a sound.

She knew what she wanted to say to Areg. She just had no clue how to say it.

So much had happened between them in such a short time! She’d proposed to the man to save him from an unjust death penalty. Begrudgingly, he’d accepted her proposal. They’d made sacred vows and were married. Then they weren’t. He almost died this morning. She almost died rescuing him.

In light of all of that life-and-death peril, the thing she wanted to confess seemed too… trivial, too embarrassingly undramatic.

I really, really like you, Areg Sebi.

They reached the outhouse, and she let go of his arm. “I’ll manage from here.”

“Sure?”

She nodded. When she was done, she headed straight to the washstand behind the outhouse. Thankfully, there was water in a tin jug and a bar of soap dangling on a string.

“The water’s clean,” Areg said, picking up the pitcher. “It’s been raining all week.”

As she washed her hands, all she could think of was, Now or never. She shook excess water off her hands and dried them on her skirt.

Areg set the pitcher back down. “Etana…”

She spun around. “Yes?”

“I—”

“Kiss me.”

Cupping the back of her neck, he drew her close and his mouth descended on hers. His kiss was deep, urgent, hungry. His hands held her tight against him, and his tongue pushed against her tongue and stroked it while his lips devoured hers.

She moaned softly.

He let go of her. “Forgive me, sweet pea.”

“For what?” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I craved that kiss.”

“For being selfish.” There was sadness in his eyes even as he smiled. “For messing up your life.”

“What life? A life of sorting dirty clothes, mending, stain treating, scrubbing, and wringing? Or a life of starching and ironing? Six days a week, dawn to dusk.”

“At least, you weren’t in danger.”

She cocked her head. “Want to know a secret? This past week was the first time I felt alive. Like I was a person and not one of those machines you talked about at the Gokk House.”

“I wish I could keep you safe…”

“I’d to it all over again.”

Dogs barked in the distance.

“You have to go now.” Areg stepped from behind the outhouse and waved to Rhori.

Rhori ran to them. “You think it’s—”

“Carry her,” Areg said. “She’s still too weak to run.”

Rhori nodded, before adding, “What about you?”

“I’ll hole up in the cottage.”

Rhori squatted down next to Etana and draped her over his back, gripping her arm and leg as he straightened up.

The men exchanged a quick nod.

“Goodbye, sweet pea,” Areg said to Etana.

Her lips moved to form a soundless goodbye.

“Ma and Pa’s house isn’t far from here,” Rhori said to Areg. “I’ll drop her off and be back straight away to give you a hand.”

Areg let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t have time for this, Rhori. Do you own a blaster?”

Rhori shook his head.

“A bullet gun? Longbow? A combat boomerang?”

“No.”

“Then you’re no use to me, understand? Take care of your sister.”

The barking grew louder. Etana could make out several male voices, shouting.

“If I make it,” Areg said as he spun around and ran toward the shack. “I’ll head to the highland. Next Third-day, take the goat trail up the steep slope of Mount Crog. Halfway to the tree line, look for a clearing to your left. I’ll be there.”

“I’ll meet you there!” Rhori set out in the direction of the Tidryn house.

“Make sure you aren’t followed and come after dark.” Areg sprinted to the cottage and shut the door behind him.

He sounded like he expected to survive tonight.

As Rhori raced for the cover of the corn fields with her slung over his back, she could see the contours of five men with big blasters and two huge dogs run toward the cottage. The reality of what was happening sank in. She and Rhori were abandoning Areg. They couldn’t help him anymore. No one could.

Divine Aheya seemed bent on welcoming him to the Eternal Garden this summer. Oddly enough, Areg didn’t appear reluctant to go.

The dogs were barking their heads off now.

When Rhori reached the corn field, Etana lifted her head for one last look at the squat cottage and its drooping roof before the stalks of corn swallowed them up.

Was it going to become Areg’s grave?