“No, I can eat as much as I like. But no matter how much I do, I’m always hungry. You’ll see, Highness. I think maybe if you stay here too long, you starve anyway.”

“We’re going to get out.”

They moved on, and Klia began to understand Phania’s fatalistic attitude. The air was dead, the countryside dreary, and somehow it was sucking the very life out of her. At least the road was smooth down the middle, between the ruts. As long as the food lasted, she felt fine, but despite the fact that she tried to ration it to make it last, by midafternoon everything was gone. Thirst was the first to strike, a terrible dryness in her mouth and throat. Then her belly rumbled, and it felt as empty as if she’d had nothing to eat since yesterday.

“You see?” said Phania. “It’ll only get worse now. Begging your pardon, Highness, but if I die out here, I won’t be sad.”

“Keep moving, Lieutenant.”

They pressed doggedly on, since there was nothing else to do. If they didn’t find food quickly, then they really were done for.

The light was beginning to fade above the ever-present clouds when Klia finally spotted a town in the distance.

“Come on!” She took Phania’s hand and urged the woman into a stumbling run. But as they got close enough for a good look, Klia slowed to a halt and stood there with her heart in her boots.

It was either Zikara, or its exact twin. The palisade, the roof of the tower beyond, the gate and side door—it was all the same, apart from the guards visible at the gate and on the palisade above. People on foot and in carts pulled by dispirited nags were on the road.

“By the Flame, what’s going on?” she whispered in disbelief.

Phania let out a choking laugh. “This is the farthest I’ve ever made it here in this Bilairy-forsaken place, and we’ve ended up just where we started!”

Whatever doubts Klia clung to of this not being the same town were dashed when the gates opened and Rhazat rode out mounted on Moonshine. She galloped up to them and reined the stallion in sharply. Phania fell to her knees, face in her hands.

“How—?” Klia began, hope flaring in her heart at the sight of her beloved horse, but it was even more swiftly dashed as she looked into his eyes, eyes that had once been so warm and brown and wise. Now they were cloudy and white.

Rhazat stroked the horse’s neck. “Lovely, isn’t he? You’re welcome to take him out whenever you like, though I fear you’ll find him a bit harder to manage than he was.”

“Do you corrupt everything you touch?”