My heart pounded ruthlessly as I stared at the sack. A circle of blood bloomed on the burlap.

My love!

Under the veil, I bit my lip so I didn’t scream, refusing to give in to panic. I could stitch a wound from an arrow if we moved quickly enough. I had everything I needed. We needed to turn around so I could heal him, right now.

“Iltani!”

She shook me off and spoke under her breath. “Wait.”

The older guardsman rubbed a hand down his face. “Why’d you do that? Get away from the cart,” he shouted to the man who’d fired the arrow.

The other guardsman shrugged, his eyes wide. “I was making sure they told it true! It is a dead body. It didn’t flinch!”

“Dead men don’t flinch, you imbecile!”

“Let us through so I may reverse the curse.” Iltani pointed resolutely toward the gate, and the men backed away. “Your very lives are at stake if I do not. You’ve unleashed the Boatman’s wrath!”

The older guardsman took two steps back, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “Get on with you, then. And be sure you do whatever you need to do to get rid of the curse. I have a family.”

“I will pray for their souls.” Iltani slapped the donkey’s rump again, and we creaked through the gate, while the guardsmen all bellowed at the man who’d fired the arrow.

I tried to remain calm as we ambled away from their voices to head down a narrow path into the city. We came to a grove of fruit trees after several minutes of me hissing at Iltani to stop. She pulled inside the cover of the trees, hiding us, and I leapt out of the cart while Iltani freed Nanaea from her hiding space. Together, we frantically yanked at the ropes around Dagan’s shroud.

“Dagan!” I whispered, my fingers working desperately at the knots.

“Get me out of here, Kammani.” His voice was muffled and sounded off, and my heart wanted to burst.

When I finally yanked the sack away from his face, I was greeted by a grimace.

“Get this dead thing off me.”

“Did the arrow hit you?”

“No. It hit the gazelle.”

Iltani and I yanked off the shroud and I insisted on searching his neck, his chest, his legs for wounds as Iltani and Nanaea heaved the carcass off into the weeds.

“I’m fine, Arammu. Just don’t…feel right.” He clambered out of the cart and stood there, covered in gore, eyes watering. Then he lurched away into the brush. Several seconds later, the sounds of him retching reached our ears.

“Are you okay?” I called after him.

“Just need a second. And, ah…new clothes. These stink and I cannot bear it.”

I dug around in our things and took him a new tunic.

He was bent over by a bush.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just hand over the tunic. Um…please. I will be fine in a moment.”

I did, and walked back to the cart to give him some time to sort himself out.