The Hawk crossed her arms, scowling like she’d rather do anything else in the world. Finally, she twisted and scanned the horse’s face.

“What am I looking at, exactly?”

“Her eyelids are too heavy,” said Anji. She jerked her head at the pot of water at Molli’s feet. “She’s hardly touched her water and her coat was covered in sweat when I brushed her down.”

“She rode without issue these last few days,” said the Hawk, her eyes flicking along Molli’s flank. “Looks fine to me.”

“Well, she’s not. Horses will run until they drop. But if you’re so set on killing her, go ahead, force her up a fucking mountain.”

“I’m growing tired of your language,” said the Hawk, but her eyes were still fixed on Molli.

“Well, I’m growing tired of walking,” said Anji. Then she sank to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She threw one leg over the other and leaned onto one elbow, looking up at the Hawk. “Kick me all you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

The Hawk pointed at the invisible tether around Anji’s ankle and stepped forward, looming overhead. “You don’t get a say in where you go.” Her voice was like iron, cold and rigid. Anji wondered fleetingly if she’d finally crossed a line into a beating she wouldn’t recover from. She decided to bet against it.

“Drag me then,” she said. “As long as I’m lying down I can sleep through it.”

The Hawk’s lips pressed into a thin line, as though she were seriously considering it. She sucked in a breath to speak, then covered her mouth against a chalky cough born somewhere in the bottom of her throat. Anji watched, frowning, as the Hawk spat into the dirt, her eyes red, tears running in shining streaks down her dusty cheeks.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” said Anji.

“I’m fine,” said the Hawk, wiping at her face. She hitched both hands on her hips, staring out across the darkening landscape, chest still heaving a little.

With a wary glance at the woman, Anji said, “The pass isn’t going anywhere. You’re coming down with … whatever you’ve got. My legs feel like broken glass, and it would be stupid to risk the horse. We have to rest. All of us.”

The Hawk tapped her fingers against her belt, looking as though she were fighting for the right words, the argument that would make it possible to spirit Anji and the horse across the pass in the next few minutes.