“I was too weak to get out us of there. I…” I claw the ground.

“Rue, out of where? You okay?” He holds on to me. “Breathe. It was just a bad dream.”

No, not a dream. A memory.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THE MORNING COMES AND my neck is sore from sleeping crooked sideways. Watch had ended and Julius and I hunkered down inside to sleep. I’m still haunted by the pieces of memory coming back to me. Jhamal never mentioned us trying to get away.

I peer around at everyone waking, bandaging, sipping water from their canteens, breaking bread. We needed this moment of safety to restore our energy, catch our breath, before making the last leg of the trip.

The Seer’s words flit through my mind. I should be able to get started on getting the potion to raise the ancestors today if we get in early enough, and if introducing the Macazi to the Ghizoni goes smoothly.

The morning has been quiet, everyone a bit forlorn, worried if today will be a repeat of last night. Most are yawning still, but several are passing out food or handling cleanup. The air is damp and thick with tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Bri’s tucked in a corner, her hair strewn about, swirling a pale green liquid in a potion jar.

“You get everything you need?” I ask her.

“Think so.” She sprinkles in flakes of something, and the liquid in the bottom puffs up like foam. “And one more.” She drops something in, alternating between blowing on it and stirring until it thickens into a paste. She holds it up. “Perfect.”

“Thanks for doing all this.”

Bri spent most of the night awake from what I heard. Everyone’s feet were extra raw and sore, but her paste healed the blisters almost instantly. Until she ran out. So she spent the wee hours of the morning preparing the ingredients for more. Bri really came through.

“Of course. Joshi still has a nasty welt on his arm,” she says, handing me a tiny vial and a pill. “Keep that one with you. It’s not much but it’s something in a pinch.”

“Thanks.” I tuck it away. Her answer about the potion didn’t satisfy, but she’s busting her ass here, clearly. It feels wrong to doubt her. But the Seer’s words finger the hairs on my neck. As she rushes off, I catch a glimpse of Zora strapping a weapon to her leg. Between most everyone being able to walk fairly normally and Zora’s limp not as noticeable, the guilt wedged in my chest eases some.

“Just going out for prayers,” Zora says. “You want to join?”

“Yes, let’s.”