But that was not why she had to hide from the Empress. It was not why she needed her masks or her little fox den. It was because right now, she needed the bear inside her to keep going. The only reason she was still afloat upon this stream—the only reason the bludgeoning in her lungs had not claimed her—was because she had masks to protect her from a world too bleak to face.

She tugged back her hand, and Vaness released her instantly, though the Empress’s arm stayed long, her fingers outstretched as if about to plead. But when Vivia said, “We must keep walking,” Vaness did not tell her again to wait.

For some reason, Vivia wished she had.

The Hammer came for Stix and Ryber at the hottest part of the day, when the sun had begun its descent, but the roads and rooftops had soaked up enough heat to emanate their own. The inn bedroom had become an oven, and even the six-fingered tabby had melted away in favor of cooler arenas. Compounded with the voices’ endless bellows, it was enough to make Stix consider leaving Saldonica and never coming back.

When the Hammer arrived, Stix practically pounced on him. She didn’t care that they were traveling back toward Kahina, nor that the burn mark seemed to itch the closer they got. She didn’t care that she might have to fight today. She was moving, and Noden bless her, it felt good. The carriage swept in a breeze to cool the sweat on her skin, and the voices quelled with each creaking spin of the wheels over swampy road.

“What is today’s fight?” Ryber asked with a suave trainer smile. She shuffled her cards absently, flipping one every few moments. Though Ryber never looked at them, Stix caught glimpses of the corners.

Six of Hawks. Eight of Hawks. Three of Hawks. Queen of Hawks.

“No fight,” the Hammer said, and for once he looked at Stix with something other than vague irritation. “Kahina says the prisoners are yours now. To do with as you please.”

Stix stiffened upon her seat. She met Ryber’s surprised eyes across the bench.

“That was fast,” Ryber said. Shuffle, shuffle.

“When Kahina wants something,” the Hammer replied, “she gets it done.” He stared at Stix as he said this, and his fingers tapped a curt rhythm against his knee. Clearly he expected her to explain this enormous gift. And clearly, when she offered nothing up but a blank stare, his usual irritation was returning.

“Draw a card for you?” Ryber’s voice trilled through the breeze as she offered her deck to the Hammer.

His nose wrinkled. “I do not play games.”

“Not a game.” Ryber feigned offense. Her braid sprang free. “I dabble in fortune-telling from time to time. Look.” She flipped over a card: the Moon. “You come from the Fareastern continent.”