Ephyra sighed, leaning her head against the cave wall as she and Hector waited out the storm. Hours earlier, they’d tried and failed to start a fire, and now they sat huddled against the rock, watching the deluge outside.

“That’s the sixth time you’ve sighed in the past five minutes,” Hector informed her.

She turned to glare at him. “Like you’re not annoyed that we’re stuck here.”

It had been a slow trek through the Unspoken Mountains, their progress hindered by frequent rainstorms. At least twice a day Ephyra regretted parting ways with the others.

“It’s not like it makes a difference,” Hector grumbled, shifting beside her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we don’t have a plan, Ephyra,” Hector replied, turning to her. “And the god—it can go anywhere. Even if we manage to track it down, it could be gone the moment we get there.”

Ephyra leaned her head back against the rock. Hector was right—and that was exactly why she didn’t want to hear it. “You could feel it before, right? When it first … woke up, in Behezda. You’re still connected to Beru, so you’re still connected to the god, too. Can’t you use that to figure out where it’s going?”

“It’s not really that simple,” he replied, fidgeting and not meeting her eyes. “The connection is weaker over a distance. When she was here with us, sure, maybe I could figure it out. But she could be on the other side of the world, while we’re stuck here, getting more waterlogged by the day.”

She curled her arms around her knees, drawing them tight to her chest. “I would’ve been fine alone.”

“Really?” Hector asked. “Because the last time you went chasing after Beru by yourself, you killed me.”

Ephyra winced. Hector hadn’t shied away from bringing up the topic during their journey to the Unspoken Mountains, but once they’d split off from the others he hadn’t mentioned it. Until now.

In a softer voice, he said, “You know, I don’t remember that day. I don’t remember dying.”

“You don’t?” Ephyra could remember every second of it. How Hector had struggled and struggled and finally went limp.

He shook his head, his gaze catching on her face and tracing the long scar that split her cheek. “I gave you that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” They’d both left marks on each other that day.

“I probably would have killed you, if you hadn’t…”

The silence hung between them for a long moment, and then finally Ephyra said, “No. You wouldn’t have.”

He looked at her in surprise.