There are many things I could say, but they crumble like ashes in the face of our reality. They do nothing to lessen the pain.

“I don’t know” is all I can say. My skin prickles, and I rub my forearms. It’s the threat of a flush, the fever’s ever-present promise to return.

Mehtap pulls her blankets close around her and she seems to shrink into them. “The way they throw us in here and leave us to our own devices. It’s as if we’ve already died.”

Chapter Twenty-six

The list is posted three days later in the training yards, and I push my way to the front of the crowd. I see Naudar’s name, then mine near the bottom of the list. And I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face.

The next morning, Walgash gives me a hearty clap on the back as we head over to the riding fields for training. “Must have been your archery skills that pushed you over the top.”

I make a mental note to put lizards in his bed.

“You know,” Walgash muses, “Arxa gave an interesting command at the trials. Seems he ordered the men at one of the stations to snack on wild fruit when the candidates were coming through. Curious, isn’t it?”

And that’s the thing about Walgash. He always follows up something annoying with something interesting or useful. Makes it hard to pull pranks with a clear conscience.

Commander Arxa stands outside the stables, adjusting the saddle on a roan stallion. “Dineas,” he calls as we pass.

“Good morning, sir.”

“I’m pleased to have you in Neju’s Guard,” he says. “You don’t give up, even when you’re at a disadvantage. That’s something I value in my soldiers.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Arxa’s stallion paws the ground. He’s an impressive beast, five hundred ingots of solid muscle.

“Anything on your mind, Dineas?” asks Arxa.

“No, sir. I was just admiring your steed.”

The commander nudges the horse to keep him looking ahead. “He’s a recent addition to our stables. Rovenni breeding stock. We’ve been trying to get ahold of some for years, and the law’s finally come down on our side. Are you a horseman, Dineas? I had my men ask around the markets, but none of the traders there recognized your brand. We’ll try again later in the year, when new tribes pass through.”

“I honestly have no idea, sir. But I do like the look of that stallion.” I rub absentmindedly at the scar on my wrist. If all Rovenni animals are like that, I’d be ecstatic to claim a past with them.

Arxa jerks his chin toward the stables. “The stables will match you up with a good steed.”