By the worst heat of the day, I rest. Sit down on the cobweb-cracked earth right in the middle of the wastes and drape my scarf over my face. It’s as hot as all can be. Sweat drips over every crevice in my body. I should sleep now, and I must, because suddenly a boot’s nudging my side and I’m dragging my eyes open.

I sit up, hand going for my blade, but it’s only Asher, caught up to me finally.

“What happened to Zuly’s?” I ask. His lips are parched and cracked, like the ground I sit on.

“Decided I didn’t want to be vulture food.”

I nod and pass him my waterskin. He drinks greedily.

“Slower,” I warn.

He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and sits beside me. A moment later he takes another small sip, then lies back. “Wake me when you want to move again?”

I nod.

The wild, wary side of me wants to sit watch. But Powder Town is easily twenty clicks behind us. The General’s mines are far to the east, maybe eighty clicks or so, given how much Asher and I traveled after leaving them. There’s nothing around these parts. No one to even keep watch against.

I lie down beside Asher and doze. When there’s still plenty of light left but the worst of the heat has passed, I nudge his shoulder. We walk the rest of the day in silence, passing the water between us and eating as we move.

It goes on like that through the evening and into the next morning—the summer solstice. We walk when we have the energy and rest when we don’t. Still, I think we might be pushing too hard. I keep seeing Indie and Ma in the heat. Sometimes they’re ahead, urging me to hurry. Other times they’re behind me, on a horse of all things, waving their arms and begging me not to leave.

By midday, these figures are a constant smudge on the horizon to the south, and I start to wonder if maybe they’re not a figment of my imagination. If there is truly someone following us.

“You see that?” I ask Asher.

He stares back the way we came. “Probably one of the Reaper’s soldiers. Confirming that we’re not going to circle around and sneak back in.”

“We’ve been walking long enough that they know we’re not coming back,” I say. “Think it’s a Loyalist?”