In any event, that was for the fifth day. Until then, they rode quietly up wooded hillsides, following animal tracks or bare ridges where they could, and pushing through the forest when there was no other way. It never grew so dense that they were really troubled, nor steep enough that it bothered the birds, and if there were plaguespawn in the area they didn’t show themselves. The latter, in fact, became almost eerie—Maya had done most of her traveling in the Republic, but based on everything she’d read and heard, they should have encountered at least a few of the awful creatures. When she mentioned it to Tanax, he only shrugged.

“Maybe they all migrate down toward Grace,” he offered, “where there are more humans to eat? Or maybe someone came through and hunted them out recently.”

However safe the woods seemed, they still used Tanax’s watch charm whenever they camped, relying on the little device to give warning if their luck ran out. Maya cooked vulpi bacon and griddle cakes over a campfire while Beq and Tanax erected the tents. With mountains to the west, sunset came early, and they went to sleep as the first stars twinkled overhead.

Tanax went to sleep, in any event. Maya and Beq experimented, gently. The reality of it—skin against skin, soft gasps in the dark, the little whining noise Beq made in the back of her throat when she neared her peak—was different from Maya’s nocturnal fantasies, slower and more complicated but infinitely sweeter. Falling asleep with the warm weight of Beq in her arms made her wish, full of guilt, that the journey would never end.

We need to help Jaedia, Maya told herself firmly. We’ll bring her back to the Forge and tell everyone what happened. And then Beq and I can … go on together. She wasn’t sure exactly what form that would take, but she had never wanted any future more.

*

Blearily, Maya reached for her canteen, and swore very quietly when she found it empty.

It was well after dark, and Beq lay beside her, sound asleep. Maya extricated herself, carefully, and crawled to the tent flap. The moon was high, and she blinked in the silver light, skin pebbling in the cool mountain air.

They’d camped beside a stream, and Maya shuffled over to it, empty canteen in hand. She was surprised to find Tanax sitting cross-legged on a nearby rock, looking up at the stars wheeling over the darkened mountains. Maya cleared her throat.

“Is something wrong?” she said.

“Just having trouble sleeping,” Tanax said.

“Bad dreams?”

“More like … regrets.” Tanax leaned back and sighed. “I keep thinking I should have seen through Nicomidi long before this. If I’d only noticed …”

“You were obeying your master’s orders.” Maya knelt by the stream and let water glug into her canteen. “Nobody can fault you for that.”