He’d argued that just he and Nasu should go into Alu, and both Arwia and I had immediately thrown that argument aside. He was big and easily recognizable in the Libbu, so he wouldn’t be able to get as close to the Palace like one of us girls could.

“Are you still upset?” I interlaced my fingers with his.

He brought my hand to his lips. “No. I’m worried. You are my everything, Arammu. You know how I feel about you.”

“Yes, and I feel the same about you.” I swallowed. I’d yet to give him an answer to his question of marriage, and he hadn’t asked again. I supposed we were both waiting on this hairline of a precipice to see what would happen in Alu before plunging back into those waters.

“If something were to happen to you, I don’t know what I would do.” He looked ahead at other travelers on the dusty, winding road along the river. Clenched his jaw. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

“We have to try to do this, though, don’t we? What other option is there? Could you live with yourself if something happened to your ummum or your brothers in war and we hadn’t tried? This whole thing was your idea to begin with.”

“I didn’t mean for us to do the killing, Arammu.” He stared at his sandals. “And I’d like to get to the other side of this with you intact so you’ll be alive to answer my question of marriage.”

“Dagan…” But I let my voice trail off. What else was there to say right now?

He shifted the pack on his shoulders. “I know, I know. This isn’t the time and I will not pressure you. There are bigger things to worry about.”

“Yes, my love, there are.”

“But I will pressure you to think about you and Nanaea waiting in Wussuru while Iltani and I go into the city ourselves. Consider that, please. For me.” He looked at me with those amber eyes framed by impossibly thick lashes.

My heart swelled with love.

“I will, Dagan. For you, I will.”

But even as I said the words, we both knew I was lying.

Night fell swiftly on the road.

“It’s right up here.” Dagan’s tired voice lifted momentarily at the prospect of resting. Exhaustion sat heavily on our shoulders like children we were too tired of carrying. My muscles ached for a soft pallet and a star-filled sky in our little house in Manzazu, though that was a senseless, painful wish, considering where we were.

The abandoned city of Wussuru loomed ahead, its walls crumbling. Dagan was concerned that bands of thieves might hide there, but Nasu’s trip up the road early this morning had assured us it was still vacant.

A ghost of its former self.

An hour later, we crossed under tiled archways bearing the figures of gods and goddesses nobody believed in anymore. Inside the walls, past disintegrating homes, remnants of firepits, and shells of taverns, there appeared to be an old Libbu surrounded by a wall pulled nearly apart by climbing weeds.