As they neared, Lilia realized how big the wall was. Just one stone was as tall as she was. The beaten dirt road they traveled upon broke itself against a small gateway just tall enough for someone Lilia’s height to enter. It was not a wall meant to be breached. It was not a wall for idle travelers.

The steps of the refugees slowed as they approached the wall. Lilia stilled a dozen yards from it and gazed up. The height was staggering. Three hundred feet tall, easily. She could just make out dark figures patrolling the top.

Her resolve trembled.

“Tears of the goddess,” Gian said. “You don’t mean to get us through that?”

“At dawn,” Taigan said.

Lilia looked behind them. More ragged figures trailed after them in the moons’ light, far more than had begun the journey. And there would be legionnaires behind them. Soon.

“Where are the Seekers?” Lilia said. “We have to do this now.”

Tal sent the child at her apron to look for the Seekers.

The girl brought back Tulana and Sokai and the others.

“Are you ready, dajian?” Tulana asked.

“Take off your coats,” Taigan said.

Lilia watched the Seekers line up with their naked backs to Lilia and Taigan. Voralyn was cursing. Tulana’s face was unreadable. Amelia cried. For a moment, just a moment, Lilia felt sorry for them.

Taigan saw Lilia watching them, said softly, “Would you like to cut?”

“Yes,” Lilia said. “What’s the mark I put in?”

“Your name,” Taigan said.

“My name,” Lilia said. “Of course. Like the boy with the stone. Names have the most power.”

Lilia cut three neat Dhai characters into each of them, between their shoulder blades.

Taigan said to Tulana, “Do you swear to remain loyal to Lilia Sona of Dhai, to aid her in every way, to keep all oaths and promises, to not deal falsely with her or her kin or play her false at pain of a death at your own hand?”

“I swear,” Tulana hissed.

The others swore and were cut. The air around them was heavy, electric. Lilia could not tell if any of them were working against Taigan, trying to unbind the flesh and blood Taigan manipulated to bind their bodies to their words. If they did, Taigan said nothing of it, and Lilia saw no red mist massing around Tulana. Lilia watched the way Taigan braided the red mist so she could replicate the ward in the future. It was an intricate thing, like a piece of prose poetry set to music.

When Taigan finished, Gian cleaned their wounds.

Lilia sat awake with Taigan on a mass of rough-cut stones. They gazed up the height of the wall. Taigan passed her a pipe of sen leaves. She took a few puffs, choked on the smoke, handed it back.