“Katsa,” he said. “Come here, my Katsa.”

He reached for her, and she came to him. He wrapped his arms around her. His hurt shoulder slow and stiff, but his unhurt arm strong and warm. He held her tight, and she held him steady. She rested her face in the hollow of his neck, and a great sigh rose within her. She was so tired, and he was so unwell. They weren’t moving fast enough. But at least they could stand with their arms around each other, and she could feel his warmth against her face.

“There’s something we need to do,” he said, “and you’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?” she murmured into his neck.

“We—” He took a breath and stopped. “You need to leave me behind.”

“What?” She pulled away from him. He swayed, but grabbed at the horse to steady himself. She glared at him, and then stormed after Bitterblue, who was collecting branches for the fire. Let him cope for himself. Let him make his own way to the campfire if he was going to make such absurd statements.

But he didn’t move. He just stood beside the horse, his arm clutching the animal’s back, waiting for someone to help him; and tears rose to her eyes at the sight of Po’s helplessness. She went back to him. Forgive me, Po. She gave him her shoulder and led him across the rocky ground to the place where they would make their fire. She sat him down and crouched before him. She felt his face; his forehead burned. She listened to his breath and heard pain in its shortness.

“Katsa,” he said. “Look at me. I can’t even walk. The most important thing right now is speed, and I’m holding you back. I’m no more than a burden.”

“That’s not true. We need your Grace.”

“I can tell you they’re seeking you,” he said, “and I can promise you they’ll continue to seek you, as long as you’re in Monsea. I can tell you they’re likely to find your trail, and I can tell you that once they do, the king will be on your heels. You don’t need me with you, to repeat that over and over.”

“I need you to keep my mind straight.”

“I can’t keep your mind straight. The only way for you to keep your mind straight is to run from those who would confuse you. Running is the only hope for the child.”

Bitterblue came beside them then, with an armload of sticks and branches. “Thank you, Princess,” Katsa said to her. “Here, bring the rabbit I caught. I’ll build the fire.” She would think about the fire, and she would pay Po no attention.

“If you left me behind,” Po said, “you could ride fast. Faster than an army of soldiers.”

Katsa ignored him. She piled twigs together and focused on the flame growing between her hands.

“He will catch up with us, Katsa, if we continue at this pace. And you won’t be able to defend either of us from him.”