Shireen gave a final look at the corpse, then hurried after Tobruk. She caught up to him near the mouth of the canyon and began arguing as she paced him, her voice fading into echoes as they both disappeared behind the rocks. Rachel and my younger self didn’t move, staring at the remains. My younger self turned to look at her and eventually she met his gaze. For a long moment they stared at each other, some kind of strange communication passing between them, then Rachel looked away and followed Shireen.

My younger self was left alone. He stared at the remains for a long time until a sound made him look around. The campsite was silent. He turned, stumbling, and broke into a run towards the canyon. Above, the sky was darkening and the first birds were beginning to circle, drawn to the carrion below.

* * *

Iswam up to consciousness slowly. As my senses returned one at a time, I became gradually aware of my surroundings: warm air, echoes in the distance, the presence of magic. I felt the touch of soft hands on my body, running from my stomach to my chest, and heard the rustle of movement. It was all very peaceful and I lay back, enjoying the sensations. Only after a few minutes did I open my eyes.

I was lying on a raised bed in a small cave. Soft light glowed from orbs set into the walls, casting a dim glow over the room. The cave had been stacked with rolls of fabric and bolts of cloth, but they’d been pushed to the far side to leave a clear space around the bed. The air was warm and dry.

Anne was sitting next to me. Her clothes were rumpled and her grey blouse was marked with dark stains that looked like dried blood, but her posture was alert and her hand was resting on my arm. Her face was more drawn than I remembered, and her red-brown eyes were watching me. “Alex?” she said in her soft voice.

I just looked at her. Somehow, I’d never noticed before just how beautiful Anne was. After the pain and violence of the battle in the casino, and the death and ugliness of the dream, she was something gentle and beautiful, and I lay quietly, taking in the sight.

“Alex?” Anne said again. Her hand tightened on my arm, just slightly. “Can you hear me?”

“I’m—” My voice came out as a rasp, and I had to stop and swallow. “Yeah.”

Anne’s eyes filled with tears and she turned away. I looked at her, puzzled. “Why are you crying?”