For a long moment, all I hear is the repeated crunch of his footsteps. “You’re welcome,” he finally says.

I should thank him, but I can’t. The humiliation is still too fresh. A living corpse, the man had called me.

“I could have handled it,” I say.

He snorts. “With that blowgun? You would have gotten one, maybe two of them before they stoned you to death.”

I tug at my plague veil. With the growing darkness, it’s becoming much harder to see, and I long to rip the cloth to shreds.

“Please,” I say, “just go away. At least until it’s completely dark.”

Again, I hear nothing but his footsteps. At first I think he’s decided to disregard me. But gradually, his steps fade farther and farther away.

Three weeks after we left Dara, the sand-colored walls of Sehmar City appear on the horizon. The emperor’s road feeds directly into massive gates, where copper-plated soldiers stand guard. I’m a good distance from the road when I arrive. Though I use it to find my direction, I haven’t actually set foot on it since the day I was chased off.

I take shelter beneath a rare gnarled tree and wait for Dineas to come over the sandy hill behind me. He slows as he catches sight of the city, and a spasm crosses his face.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I say.

“That’s Sehmar.” For a moment, neither of us says anything. Then Dineas shrugs his bag off his shoulder. “I’ll stay outside the walls while you get settled,” he says. “You can take two of the crows.”

I look around at the barren terrain. “Will you be all right for supplies? It may take me days, if not weeks, to find a good opportunity to bring you in.” And that’s if Arxa doesn’t see through my deception straightaway.

“I’ve been hungry before. I’ll survive.”

“The Goddess keep you, then.”

I turn to leave, but Dineas barks my name. I turn to see him staring at a cloud of dust up the road. “Best wait until they pass,” he says. I’ve never heard so much strain in his voice. His whole body is rigid and tense. He’s barely breathing.