I hug Ryuth close, my heart aching.

What must it feel like to carry around that much guilt? The knowledge that your well-intentioned actions had such a terrible outcome, one you could never have foreseen?

On top of that, having to suffer through the outcome with everyone else.

And then to be enslaved, have your free will taken from you. Have yourself taken from you, until you're not even in control of your own mind, your own actions.

I cannot imagine the crushing burden he must carry, a burden that must have suffocated him when his memories returned. What a terrible surprise.

I lean back a little so I can see his face.

"I don't want you carrying around guilt about not killing the queen, either," I say fiercely. "That isn't something you need to add to your conscience."

He smiles, reaching out to cup the side of my neck.

"I would never do anything to jeopardize you," he says, his eyes painfully sincere. "You must know that."

I nod, feeling the warmth of that look deep inside.

"I know," I say. "But that isn't what I mean. Or not all of what I mean," I try to explain, frustrated. "Yes, we need the epis to survive here. Our bodies just aren't made for such intense heat. Before we took the first dose of epis, before a Zmaj helped Calista, we were all very near death from dehydration and heat stroke." I set my hands on his shoulders. "But that is not the only reason you shouldn't feel guilty. Things . . . are different now. The Zmaj—you—are no longer a slave to epis."

I hear the others slowly walk up to us and turn to look. Ragnar watches his brother, his countenance maybe not quite as icy as when we left. I'm pretty sure time will heal their rift. Both of them love each other too much for proximity and interaction not to make a difference.

"Mei is correct," Ragnar says, his eyes calm and direct. "Epis is not the same thriving export that you remember. In fact, it is not an export at all. We only harvest it for ourselves, when we require it."

Bashir nods. "Only we still know that epis even exists," he adds. "Because of the Devastation, everyone else who had that knowledge . . . is gone."

I can see Ryuth flinch a little at the mention of the Devastation. But he's listening.

"The Edicts keep us together now," Melchior says quietly, his expression sympathetic. "We had to build a new way of life."

"Edicts?" Ryuth repeats, frowning.

Ragnar steps closer. "Yes, Edicts. We are no longer slaves. We are free people, living and loving. Having families and living for ourselves. But we need something to hold us together, to ensure we do not fall back into the bijass, that we continue working together." He pauses, his eyes holding his brother's. "That is why the Edicts were created. If you wish to be part of the Tribe, you must follow them. As does everyone else."

Ryuth watches his brother, something passing between them. "What are these Edicts?" he asks after a small silence.

"One, I am myself. Two, together we are stronger. Three, survival of the group matters."

Ryuth's hand clenches on my thigh, but he immediately loosens it, giving me an apologetic look.

"So simple?" he asks. I can see the hope he's managing in his eyes. He does not want to let it grow.

I understand that fear.

Ragnar nods gravely. "Yes."

"Edicts make us one," all three of them say in unison.

"But they are simply a reminder to draw strength from within us," Ragnar continues. "To avoid giving in to our baser urges, our primal selves. The world is harsh. In order to survive, we must be able to work together. Each of us must contribute for the good of the Tribe. Those who are too weak to contribute . . . we cannot keep them in the Tribe. They must fend for themselves. Strength is how the Tribe survives."

Ryuth nods slowly. "I understand," he murmurs.

"No matter what happened in the past, we can build a new future together," I say as Ryuth turns to me. "Things are changing. We're all changing them for the better. You can be a part of that."

His eyes search mine, the need in them hurting my heart. He opens his mouth to say something. But another violent tremor rocks the ground under us so hard that I fall off the lip of the fountain. Ryuth catches me from his kneeling position, immediately standing with me in his arms.

"We must leave," he says, his eyes watchful as he slowly backs up so we're forming a circle with our backs to each other. Everyone eyes the area with caution. After seeing what's causing all the tremors, I have a much greater appreciation for the caution now. "It is not safe to stay here."

The others murmur their wholehearted agreement.

Getting out of here sounds like a great idea to me.

"Let us return home," Ragnar agrees. "There is nothing left for us here."

He's right.

Time for another trek through the desert.

I give a mental sigh.

But at least now Ryuth is with me this time.

Now that's a thick silver lining.