Like a fountain to cure the sickness, and a curse to stop it working? Nerra said.

Kleos nodded. The stories say that a sorcerer worked magic on it. That he proclaimed that those who drank would die mad, twisted, torn apart.

Nerra paused, considering those words.

And now youre wondering if the cure might be worth the risk, Kleos said. He shook his head. Believe me, girl, theres no cure.

How can you be so sure? Nerra asked.

Because Ive seen all the others who were certain that they would survive, Kleos snapped back. Do you think that everyone else doesnt think they might be special, that they might be the one to break the chain of endless death? They go, one after another. Many of them die on the way, because that way is hard.

And the ones who dont? Nerra asked. She had to hear it.

They drink, and they die, Kleos said. Their bodies twist into horrific things, and their minds are worse by the end. They die screaming and raging, their own bodies turned into weapons against them. The same way you will die if you try this.

He made it sound as certain as the sun rising.

So what am I supposed to do? Nerra asked. Just sit here and wait to change so much that you kill me?

Youre meant to live out your life, Kleos said. To make the most of the limited time that you still have. To prepare yourself for what will, inevitably, come. He paused for a few seconds. Do you want to know what I believe about the temple? I believe that the stories of a cure were created for those who could not do that, for the ones who couldnt find peace. I think the fountain was put there as a way out for them, as a way to think they were helping themselves even while they died. Do not be so foolish. You still have time; live in it.

Live in it. That was easy to say when Kleos didnt have the sickness that the rest of them had. When he was the one who killed them when they changed too far. Did he enjoy that part? Would he enjoy cutting Nerras throat when the time came?

Promise me, Kleos said. Promise me that you wont seek out the temple.

I promise, Nerra said, but even as she did so, she knew she was lying.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

As she and Odd came into sight of the largest bridge to the south, Erin barely slowed. She raced toward it, Odds mule struggling to keep up in the wake of her horse. She charged down toward the bridge, and it was only as she reached it that she slowed, stopped, dismounted.