Anji felt a writhing in her throat and coughed up a dribble of vomit or blood. It was cold on her chin. Then she felt herself lifted from the ground.

“Up you get.”

She cast about, confused—she was in the saddle. She looked down at Kit, who was now slapping at Anji’s legs. Wood clattered inside the inn, followed by a strangled yell.

“The other one. Up. There.”

The Bear crawled on hands and knees through the ruin of the inn’s facade, her mask reflecting the dim light. It was smeared with blood and shattered on one side, revealing a single brown eye underneath, rolling in its wrinkled socket. It settled on Anji for half a second before the woman collapsed.

Anji swayed on the horse’s back, but before she could fall Kit was behind her, reigns in hand, and the world lurched along with Anji’s stomach.

She vomited all down her shirt.

The horse thundered down the lane, hooves clapping against stone. The saddle was too small for them both, the swells digging deep into her thighs. Anji tried shifting on it, gripped tight to the horn with her uninjured hand. She took a heaving, sobbing breath as though it were her last in the world. The dilapidated buildings raced past at an angle.

Air rushed past her ears and she slammed into the frozen dirt, searing pain shooting up her ankle and into the meat of her calf. Anji twisted in the mud, a moan bubbling out. She searched for the horse. Kit halted and dismounted, sprinting back to where Anji lay.

“Get up!” she barked, gesturing at the horse. “Get up now!”

Anji tried speaking through the pain, tried to voice the awful clutching panic pulsing through her, but the agony was setting in now. All she could do was cry out and struggle to stand.

Kit growled and Anji felt strong arms around her torso. The ground drifted away from her aching face, drops of blood and spit and vomit spattering into the gray dust. She retched again. The world righted itself and she hopped along at Kit’s side on one foot, one arm around the woman’s tiny shoulder. She had no idea how she got back onto the horse. It must have been Kit’s doing, but soon they were on their way again, bouncing along in the saddle, Anji’s ankle throbbing, her breath shallow and uneven. Rain spattered against her cheeks, into her eyes. Lightning cracked somewhere up ahead, illuminating the world in a beautiful flash. Anji shivered in the Hawk’s thin arms. Maybe Kit would just let her see the coin, the dagger. They were Anji’s after all. They were hers. Hers.