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Wait, you want me to dowhat?

I glance sharply over at Memnon, but his eyes are already crinkled playfully at their corners, and he’s barely suppressing a smile.

I’m kidding, he says.Of course I can—ifit’s needed.

I take a deep breath, then take his hand in mine, sinking my other hand into Ferox’s scruff.

Last time I was in these tunnels, I pleaded with what I thought were the gods, but perhaps Memnon’s right and it’s simpler than that.

“Ley line,” I call out, feeling foolish for addressing a magical tunnel by name, “please take us back to the Sarmatian camp in the steppe lands.”

Nothing happens. But then, nothing happened last time, not right away.

I take a few steps forward, dragging Memnon and Ferox along with me.

Still, nothing.

“Huh,” I say, stumped. “Maybe it really was a god that answered my call.”

I can feel Memnon’s conflicted emotions at the possibility.

“Was there anything else you did besides ask for help?” he says.

I think back to the moment, my memory hazy from grief.

My gaze darts to Memnon’s when I remember.

“I said it could take whatever it wanted from me. It took my tears.”

I sense Memnon’s alarm. “It took yourtears?” he says skeptically.

But now I have a hunch—one I want to test out. I release Memnon’s hand and reach for his sheathed dagger.

“What are you doing, little witch?” he asks, a thread of unease entering his voice.

Rather than answering, I grab a small section of my hair and saw it off. Then I return Memnon’s blade to its sheath and regrasp his hand.

“Ley line,” I say, my voice strong and clear, “I offer you a lock of my shorn hair in return for safe passage to our Sarmatian camp in the steppe lands.”

I stare at the curled lock of auburn hair pressed between my fingers. One exhalation passes, then another.

Suddenly, my hair catches fire, the flames of it iridescent. The fibers curl and burn, and then they’re gone.

I exchange a look with Memnon, who raises his eyebrows.

Now, I think we start walking, I say.

Slowly, Ferox, Memnon, and I move forward. One step, then two, three, four, five?—

Our sixth step never lands. Instead, we fall into darkness, our bodies hitting the ground hard.

I groan, rolling over, the long grass beneath me crunching under my weight.

I blink a few times, staring up at familiar constellations in the star-strewn sky.

Memnon barks out a disbelieving laugh. “Roxi, thatworked.”

I sit up, noticing the torchlight in the distance where our settlement is.