Determined not to be discovered, he crouched low and realized how lucky he was that the crunching of snow beneath his boots was drowned out by the sound of the rattling wheels. The wagon moved just slow enough, given the pitted roads, for him to catch up, and in one quick motion he leapt forward and jumped into the back, landing in the hay.

Aidan ducked low and glanced forward to make sure he hadn’t been discovered; to his immense relief, the driver did not turn around.

Aidan quickly hid beneath the hay, finding it more comfortable than he imagined—and warmer, too, sheltering him from the cold and the steady wind. It even cushioned the bumps to some extent.

Aidan sighed, deeply relieved. Soon, he even began to allow himself to relax, feeling the rhythms of the cart, banging his head against the wood, but no longer caring. He even allowed himself a smile. He had done it. He was heading south, toward his father, his brothers, the battle of his life. And nobody—nobody—would hold him back.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Merk stood beside the girl, watching the morning sun spread over the countryside of Ur, and as she wept quietly beside him, his heart broke for her. She stood over the bodies of her dead father and mother and brother and sobbed as she had throughout the entire night. It had taken Merk hours to pry her off so that he could bury them.

Merk went back to work, reaching out with his shovel and digging again and again, as he had for hours, his hands calloused, determined to at least bury their bodies and give the girl some sense of peace. It was the least he could do; after all, she had saved his life, and no one had done that before. He still felt the agony in his back from where he had been shot, and he remembered her stepping forward, killing that boy, then removing the arrow and healing his wound. She had nursed him back to life through a long and horrible night—and now he had strength enough to help her. Oddly, he had come here to save her—but now he felt in her debt.