“You shouldn’t go alone,” Khepri said, and Ephyra was oddly touched by her concern. “I’ll go with you.”

Ephyra knew very little about the Herati girl. Like her, Khepri had been a captive of Pallas. If her captivity had been even half as awful as Ephyra’s, then Khepri must be strong because she hadn’t been broken by the experience. Ephyra thought she might like her.

They set off at dusk, climbing over the hill to the farmland below.

“So,” Ephyra said into the silence. “You and the prince. You’re what—his consort? Is that what they call them?”

Khepri shot her an unamused look. “I don’t know. We were … something. But that’s in the past.”

“You came here for him, though,” Ephyra said. It wasn’t a question. Despite the obvious tension between the two, there was really no other explanation for Khepri’s sudden agreement to come with them.

“No,” Khepri replied flatly.

“My mistake.”

Khepri sighed. “I don’t know anymore. I love him. But all we seem to do is hurt each other.”

Ephyra thought of Beru, and how many times things had fractured between them. How many times they’d repaired their relationship. “Well, it’s always the people you love the most that can hurt you the worst, isn’t it? At least, in my experience.”

Khepri nodded. “You and the traitor, right? It’s pretty obvious he’s in love with you.”

“What?” Ephyra choked, blindsided. “You mean Illya?”

Khepri’s expression was somewhat abashed. “Apparently not that obvious, then.”

“Illya’s not really a love kind of person.”

“Well, my mistake,” Khepri said, smirking a little.

Ephyra quickened her pace, heat rising to her cheeks as Khepri’s words rattled around in her head. “Looks like there’s a farm ahead. Let’s try there.”

They climbed easily over the low fence hemming in the row of crops. Ephyra spotted turnips, carrots, and something that might have been some form of grain. As a rule, vegetables were not an efficient resource, as they tended to be heavy and yet not filling. They still grabbed some of them, but the real trove would be in the barn. With her far superior night vision and hearing, Khepri stayed outside to keep watch while Ephyra stole inside.

She crept through the darkened barn, her eyes adjusting slowly. She heard hens rustling in their nests. Jackpot.

She slunk toward them, her cloth sack in one hand, ready to pounce. The chicken squawked belligerently as Ephyra seized hold of it, shoving it into the bag. It put up a vicious fight, clucking and flapping as Ephyra attempted to close the bag. Just when she had the chicken under control, she turned toward the back of the barn and found a pair of eyes staring at her.

Human eyes.

With a muffled squawk, the chicken emerged from the bag and flapped away. Ephyra stumbled back.