Page 129

The grief sucks me under, and I haven’t surfaced from it when a rider heads our way, carting a saddled horse with him. A horse that looks concerningly like Memnon’s.

My stomach twists when I realize that itisMemnon’s horse.

The rider has barely reached us when, not bothering to dismount, he says, “A band of Bastarnae warriors have been spotted half a day’s ride from here. They are armed and appear to be heading our way. Our sources suspect they’ve allied with Dacia.”

My breath catches. Another fight? The last one was not even a week ago.

Memnon must have a similar thought, but rather than alarm, I feel the rising heat of his anger and bits of his thoughts.

…dare they interrupt my child’s funeral? …will give them pain unlike any they’ve ever known…

He releases me gently, then stands, his mounting fury rolling off him in ominous waves. “How long do we have?” he asks.

“Until nightfall.”

Memnon looks down at me. “I’m so sorry, Roxi.” Because he has to attend to this, he means.

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod, trying not to cry all over again.

He kneels and kisses me, an apology and a pledge wrapped into the action.You watch over our child, all right? I’ll be back to hold you this evening.

I grab on to his forearms as though I can keep him here. I don’t want him to go, not into battle. I cannot bear the thought of possibly losing him too.

You willnotlose me, Memnon says adamantly.That, I vow.

When he stands again, his jaw is hard, his face resolute. Memnon moves over to his horse and swings himself into the saddle in a single, fluid movement.

“Let’s be done with this,” Memnon says, his face grim. “My wife needs me.”

And with that, they ride off.

I watch their forms until they disappear from view. I fight the need to reach across my bond with Memnon just to hear his voice and make sure he’s okay.

It’s then that I realize I was supposed to follow him into battle. In my grief, I forgot that pledge entirely.

The next breath I take sounds like a sob. Do I run for camp and try to catch up with the men?

Stay, Memnon insists, his voice strong as iron.I will take care of this.

I draw in a shaky breath and sit there, miserable. As I stare out at the grassland, my eyes keep snagging on the kurgans dotting it, all of them are so much bigger than the one Memnon and I just made.

One of the closer ones, in particular, is obscenely large, and my eyes keep returning to it. At its summit, the sun glints off something.

I lean forward, squinting to better see what has any right to shine so brightly on a day like today. The longer I stare at it, the more it seems to mock the meager grave I’ve given my child.

In a huff, I stand up. Still, my abdomen aches and I’ve been bleeding on and off, but damn it, I’m going to climb up to that kurgan and rip whatever bit of wealth rests on top of that pompous mound and fling it into the fucking afterlife.

Getting to the man-made hill, then climbingupit, takes longer than I thought it would, mostly because I am sore and slow, but the entire time, my eyes stay fixed to its apex.

Only, when I get to the top of the kurgan…there isnothing. No sword, no polished metal. Just grass and more grass.

I walked all this way, left the grave of my child, for just a trick of the light.

A tear rolls down my cheek.

Above me, a cloud passes away from the sun and the sky brightens, and once more, that thing glints again.

I peer at it, moving closer. There is still no metal object, but there issomething. It looks almost…like a thin film suspended in midair. My eyes widen.