A scattering of grubby townsfolk appeared at their doors as they sped out of town, but none stepped past the thresholds. Either they had no idea what had just happened, or they did and didn’t want to get involved. Smart of them. Death followed wherever Anji went, wherever this woman took her. She was Death on horseback, shattered ankle and all. The Hawk had come after her and still she breathed, still she rode out from a massacre with only a bloody nose and a broken foot and a destroyed hand to show for it.

“Hang on,” Kit said as they left Kiva behind, as the far horizon lightened, clouds roiling overhead. Anji held tight to the horse’s mane, tears freezing on her cheeks, a shimmering dark veil sliding over the world.

“Hang on, Anji.”

Chapter 32

32

Bashing waves woke Anji from a fitful sleep. Rainclouds had followed them as they fled from Kiva—from a dead Berip and a dying Jared and whatever was left of the Menagerie. Anji had passed out multiple times, rain drumming on her face, shivering, and dreaming of Berip’s tiny form lying in a spreading pool of blood. She saw his wide, accusing green eyes begging her to help, his throat a red bloom.

While Anji fought for sleep, Kit had hastened them toward the coast, muttering to herself and hacking her now ever-present cough. At last, as the storm at their backs gave up the chase, Anji had sunken into a longer darkness. When she finally regained consciousness she’d found herself at the edge of the world, covered in her own sick, a pounding in her temples and the clawing, knife-edge pain digging at her ankle with every motion of their mount.

Now Kit slowed the horse to a walk. Thunderheads grumbled above, iron gray with rain and dirty brown where the sun fought to shine as it set. The thin trail they’d found wound along a ridge overlooking the churning gray surf. Anji looked out across that wrinkling expanse, tears frozen on her wind-scarred cheeks.

Gods, I hate the fucking ocean.