Anji sniffed and shook her head, peering down at Silverton again. On the road, she’d imagined a sprawling, affluent mining village—not this poor, broken thing sheltered between two prominent hills, dwarfed by the towering mountains to the east. “Barely any light down there. Do people just sit in the dark when the sun goes down?”

“Likely can’t afford the fuel,” said the Hawk. “They’ve few exports now their mines are dry.” She hunched over the saddle horn, her nose grazing the pages of the tiny notebook she’d been scrawling in that morning. She sniffed and dragged a finger down one page, then squinted through the darkness at the expanse to either side. “The land here is infertile, and what they do manage to grow is taxed.” She cleared her throat. “Or stolen, depending on who you ask.”

“What’s the notebook for?”

The Hawk clapped the book shut and stuffed it back into her leathers. She dug into the heavy brown sack attached to the saddle, dismounted, and thrust a piece of dried meat at Anji without a word before gathering the reins and pulling the horse away from the ridge’s lip. More dark shapes joined the first in the air, flitting over the stream and chirping in a strange chorus as they darted in and out of the water.

“What the hell are these things?”

“Bats,” said the Hawk. “Likely from the abandoned mines nearby.” She tugged at the horse’s reins. The mare bobbed her head and huffed, took a single step forward, then reared at the swift approach of one of the bats.

“She’s scared,” said Anji. “You have to—”

“I know how to handle a horse.” The Hawk untied the large sack attached to the saddle and tossed it jangling to the ground.

“It isn’t the weight, it’s the—”

“Eat and keep quiet, girl. I don’t need your help.”

Anji pressed her lips into a thin line and watched the woman struggle. She gnawed at the meat, wondered vaguely what animal it had come from, but suspected she wouldn’t get an answer even if she asked. As with everything the Hawk had given her to eat so far, it was bursting with flavor. Spicy yet sweet, it melted in her mouth like butter and burned going down. The woman couldn’t match Kaia or Libby for company, but Anji hadn’t eaten so well in years.

Not that I’m living in luxury, she thought, frowning at her manacles. She’d cartwheel down this hill naked for a cigar and a cup of clear spirit, but the bounty hunter seemed determined to drink only water. Earlier, the Hawk had upended a few drops of some clear liquid into the dregs of their canteen and instructed Anji to drink. The antidote for the poison coursing through Anji’s veins.