There were dozens and dozens of bags in the pile. Shad and Malaiki and Quon all picked up a bunch of them, but there were plenty left. I didn’t see Victoria or David pick up any. Self-consciously, I picked up two, wondering if they would fit in my pack and dreading the idea of filling them with stones. My back already ached.

As we marched forward, I turned and looked at the pile of sacks we had left behind us, wondering why the rider gave us so many. But then something else occurred to me.

“Horses in this world?” I asked my companions. “How come nobody told me? Why don’t we get our hands on some and ride them down the road? It’d be a lot easier, and we’d get to the city a lot quicker. I don’t suppose you’ve seen any cars here, have you?”

The old man looked at me as if I were hopeless. “The TravelGuide says we must walk the road. There is no quick way, no easy way, no shortcut. And, no, there aren’t any cars!”

Well, excuse me for asking!

As we walked, Shad breathed with a wheezing noise and periodically stopped to cough and spit. I tried to keep my distance.

Quon kept stopping and crouching down, searching for signs of varmints. I looked away, not wanting to see dinner in its unedited form. Malaiki kept humming the same repetitive tune. I was running out of people to walk next to, so I stayed at the back by myself, just behind David.

We walked and walked for days, breaking only to eat and to set up camp and sleep. The newness of the road had subsided. The songs were less engrossing, my companions more irritating, the Mulligan stews and tomato soups and asparagus less appealing.

Where’s Chinese takeout when you need it?

I sat down beside the road one hot, humid afternoon and shook a sharp pebble out of my boot. There was blood on my sock and I took it off. The pebble had cut deep into my foot, now black and blue. The group had stopped, watching me.

“Go on,” I called. “I’ll catch up.” They didn’t buy it, and next thing I knew the women hovered over me.

“You should have told us,” Malaiki said, seeing the injury. “We could have helped.” I quickly put the sock back on.

My feet screamed at me, my legs were sore, my neck throbbed, my head ached. I would have thought after crossing the chasm that the migraines would be gone. They weren’t.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Nick,” Victoria said. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“You seem troubled.”

“I said nothing’s wrong.” I knew she heard the edge in my voice. “Okay, I guess maybe … I thought it would be a quicker trip to Charis.”