“You need more water,” Serina said, her voice thick with tears. “I’ll get another flagon.”

“Thank you.” Nomi watched her leave the infirmary, her stomach tight.

Nomi glanced over at Malachi, automatically noting his color, whether he winced when he moved.

“Do you feel up for the hike?” she asked.

“Of course.” His sharp jaw tightened. Dark circles still clung beneath his eyes, but his intensity was back, as vibrant and terrifying as ever.

“Of course,” she echoed sarcastically under her breath. He still thought he could accomplish this task without her, yet he could hardly bend over without whimpering.

“Nomi…” he started, his expression softening, but at that moment Maris arrived, and he turned away to focus on his own burlap sack.

“Your sister said you’re about to leave,” Maris said. Helena was a few steps behind her. Nomi hadn’t seen the two apart since their reunion.

Nomi nodded.

“Good. We wanted to walk with you to the boat.” Maris had trimmed her long black hair to her shoulders and kept it tucked neatly behind her ears. She was so at ease now, more so than she’d ever looked in the palazzo. Helena smiled calmly, her blue eyes brightening every time her gaze shifted to Maris. There was no need for them to hide their feelings here, no sneaking around as they’d done before Maris had been selected as a Grace. This was the one place in all of Viridia that Maris and Helena could be themselves.

Serina returned with several extra flagons, and Val with a pair of boots for Malachi. Serina had already found boots for a lot of the women, including Nomi. They were too big, but Nomi had stuffed scraps of fabric in the toes so she could walk.

She readjusted the burlap sack over her shoulder. Her stomach churned with nerves. She was scared to leave Serina. Scared to get on a small boat with Malachi. Scared of what would happen when Malachi challenged Asa. Scared Renzo was already dead.

And what about Serina, when the prison boat came? What if their plan to overpower the guards didn’t work? Nomi took a deep breath and tried to calm her mind.

Their little group—Val, Malachi, Serina, Maris, and Helena—snaked up the path to the north, along the rim of the island.

“Do you think there will ever come a time when I’m not juggling a hundred different fears at once?” Nomi asked Serina quietly as they walked.

“I hope so. But in the meantime, maybe this will help with a few of them.” Serina paused to draw a small but wicked homemade knife from her boot.

Tentatively, Nomi took it. It was thin and sharp and felt like holding violence in her hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Whatever you must,” Serina said simply.