“I hope he feels better. That had to be difficult,” Nanaea said, sitting heavily on the edge of the cart while we waited for him.

“Much more so than lying under some blankets.” Iltani poked her.

“I’m grateful you gave me the easy job. Thank Selu you can think on your feet!” Nanaea shivered as a gust of wind fluttered the leaves above our heads.

“Yes, though you’re lucky I don’t deck you for putting me on the spot.” I nudged her. “Crossed eyes?”

Iltani cackled. “Let me say that for the rest of my life, if I ever need a good laugh, I’ll be pulling up that image of you in my head.”

Nanaea giggled. “Show me what you looked like, Sister.”

“No,” I protested, my face heating. “I refuse on principle.”

“It was like this.” Iltani crossed her eyes and bared her teeth like a donkey, and before long, we were laughing so hard, stifling our voices with our tunics, that I was certain I might explode. After a few moments, we eyed each other, sighing in relief. We were through the gate. And now we could get to his farm.

Nanaea pulled us both into a tight hug. “Iltani, we can always rely on you to think on your feet, you know that?”

“That’s why I’m here.” She planted a loud kiss on each of our foreheads. “To keep you fools out of harm’s way.”

And we laughed again because that was typically the furthest thing from the truth.

HALF AN HOUR later, after finding a good spot to tie up the donkey and cart away from prying eyes until we could come back for them, I gave Dagan a precious pinch of dried ginger to rid the nausea from his guts. Then we were on our way. A thin veil of clouds clung to the night sky like spiderwebs. The square, tiered Palace loomed ahead, shimmering with torches in the dark. Houses stacked close together filtered into view once we got through the olive trees.

“Be quiet and stay low,” I whispered to everyone as we passed within shouting distance of the poor part of the city to get to Dagan’s farm. As we kept to the wall, avoiding the main roads and other people’s watchful eyes, it was clear that Alu was not doing well at all. Dagan’s eyes grew round as we took in the devastation in my old neighborhood. Many huts were burned to the ground, and those that stood held more occupants than could possibly fit. People had erected tents on sticks with old quilts and were sleeping underneath them while burning embers held cookpots that had been scraped clean.

“Why is everyone asleep?” Nanaea’s worried eyes met mine.

“Must be a curfew,” Iltani said.

“Malnourishment, too,” I whispered. “It makes you very tired.”

My hand on Nanaea’s back, I directed her around a scraggly patch of weeds. Even in the middle of the night, you’d usually hear songs and laughter floating from nearby huts. It was comforting, in a way, that life went on even when you slept.