“We have to keep moving,” he whispers before he kisses a tear away from my cheek. “I don’t think we should stay out here in the open.”

It takes every ounce of my willpower to nod. I just want to lie here, curling into a ball, pretending none of this is real. We roll apart and push up to stand.

Thankfully, the pack and weapons are still where I dropped them. I scan our surroundings, hoping for some clue about what’s coming next. Another sword would be handy. Why is Herric offering us anything at all? Is this just for his amusement?

Nadir opens the pack and pulls out a canteen of water.

“Drink some and wash the sand from your mouth.” He hands it to me while he also watches over our environment. I can practically see him strategizing. I clear my mouth, spitting out the grit, before I take a few long gulps and hand it back.

“Finish it,” I tell him when he stares at it and then up at me with an uncertain expression. After crossing the river, I am reasonably sure we can find more water when needed. Though it’s probably poisoned or something. Or we won’t be alive long enough for it to matter. I shake my head. One problem at a time.

Nadir slings the pack over his shoulders and hangs the quiver over his arm. He picks up the dagger and studies it before he looks over to where Herric watches us. The Lord of the Underworld’s bright grin is visible even from this distance.

“Fucking bastard,” Nadir growls as he hands me the dagger. “Use it to carve out his heart.”

I tuck it into a strap around my thigh.

Nadir then picks up the bow and the sword before he wraps an arm around my waist and draws me in close.

“Keep an eye out,” he says in a low voice. “I can’t tell how long it will take to reach the mountain, but let’s just head straight for it.”

I stare at the mountain looming far in the distance. Without any roadblocks, reaching it might cost us most of the day. But I’m under no illusion we’ll be able to march our way over without interruption. The crowd continues twittering while I scan their faces and their hungry eyes.

“Don’t look at them, Lor,” he says. “Pretend they’re not here.”

I nod and glance back at him, feeling tears well up.

“I don’t want to do this,” I whisper as I clutch the collar of his jacket. “I want to go home.”

“What is home, Lor?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

The corner of my mouth lifts in a sad smile. “You. You are home.”