Traces of the Horde camp lay on the flats beyond the dunes, but the desert had already reclaimed most of what the Scab army had left. An odd tent stake here, some butchered goat carcasses in a pile over there, and a dozen large water barrels they’d left for some reason. The water stank like sewage.

They passed in silence and said nothing for the next hour.

The second day proved to them why so few Forest Dwellers ever ventured into the desert, and none so deep. The heat was unbearable, and the horses consumed more water than expected. Still, they had enough for the trip, Johnis insisted. As long as they didn’t spend more than a day at the Horde city.

No pursuit followed them from the forests.

“Do you think they’ll forgive me, Silvie?” Johnis asked soberly.

“For the slaughter or for this?” she asked.

“For the Third Group’s loss.” He still wasn’t calling it a slaughter.

“You’re forgetting that I followed you willingly that night. They’ll need to forgive both of us.”

“And will they?”

“Like you say, it depends on what happens next. Thomas isn’t the kind who can be betrayed more than once.”

“We left of our own accord, willingly, endangering no one’s life,” Jackov said on Johnis’s right. “How’s that a betrayal?”

“He’s right. If we succeed here, then it will help.”

Johnis stared into the horizon, where they could just see the line of huge dunes Jackov had promised. “Then we have to succeed,” he said. “There’s too much at stake to let one mistake, however terrible, undermine our mission.”

“Keep things in perspective.” Jackov said. “This is about each of us getting what we need, not the end of the world.”

Jackov knew nothing about the missing Books of History. Still, the way he made his announcement struck Silvie as shallow and bothersome. She could see now why Thomas had passed him over.

They reached the dunes as the sun disappeared behind them. Now the tension returned, like a knife along their nerves. The Horde lived beyond these dunes—there was no mistaking the worn grooves in the sand from the army’s recent passing.

“We sleep here tonight,” Silvie said.

“We press on!” Johnis protested.

“No, we sleep. You’ve barely slept in a week. I’m not willing to barge in with our minds half-gone from exhaustion. Like snakes, not bulldogs, right?”

“But the sun—”

“We can bear the sun. We can’t bear lack of sleep!”

“Fine. But I’m not the least bit tired.”