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It would take six days for the sand strider to reach the port of Damassi on the other side of the Dust Sea. To pass the time,

I wandered the strider’s innards, familiarizing myself with the vessel, from the upper decks to the deep lower bowels where

most of the d’wevryn crew lived and worked. I memorized the layout, taking note of good escape routes, hidey-holes, and places

I could lose any potential attackers in the labyrinthine corridors of the strider.

Evenings were spent either in the tavern or the common spaces with Halek. Sometimes, Raithe joined us, and on rare occasions,

Kysa would appear, when her duties as a scout permitted. The insect rider seemed fascinated with us, and me in particular;

she would often ask me about Kovass and its fall to the Deathless King. But talking about Kovass and my life before brought

up painful memories, and I avoided the subject when I could. But the insect rider was persistent.

“You know you cannot keep running forever,” she told me one evening.

We were back in the cramped, dingy tavern, the smell of grease and pipe smoke thick on the air.

Halek had been roped into a game of Triple Fang by the d’wevryn regulars, and I pitied their ignorance.

The Fatechaser had nearly the same uncanny luck as I did when it came to dice.

The difference was, he was charismatic and well liked enough to get away with it.

I smirked to hide the unease tracing a cold finger up my spine, and leaned back with a shrug. “I can give it my best shot.”

“The Deathless King will come for us all,” the insect rider went on, ignoring my last statement. Apparently, the Scarab Clan

had their own legends of the Deathless Kings. “If everyone runs away, his empire will only grow, swallowing kingdoms like

a sandstorm. If there is no resistance, the Deathless King will not stop until every living thing is consumed. There will

be nowhere to run. Better to face him, to slow that tide, than to cower in fear, waiting for him to find you.”

I cringed. She hadn’t been there when the king was resurrected. She hadn’t seen the king’s terrible power, enough to pull

down an entire city and replace it with his own. “I’m not a warrior,” I told her. “If I stand against the Deathless King,

I’m going to die. Anyone who faces him is going to die.”

“And yet it must begin somewhere.” Kysa’s voice was unyielding. “The Scarab Clan will not submit. We will not be subjugated.

If we must die protecting our lands and our freedom, so be it. We are not afraid to make that choice. And perhaps our sacrifice

will inspire others to stand and fight as well.”

“I hope so,” I said. “Because I’ll be hiding in the deepest hole I can find. Or in the farthest reaches of the farthest kingdom.

Maybe if I put enough dust oceans between me and the Deathless King, he’ll decide one insignificant thief is not worth the

hassle.”

The insect rider raised a brow. “I seem to remember this ‘insignificant thief’ returning to strike the killing blow on a legendary

abomination.”

“Yes, and I hope never to do it again.” Kysa still looked dubious, and I shrugged. “I’m a thief,” I told her. “That’s what Fate decided. That’s my place in the Tapestry of the World. We all know we can’t change our fates.”

“You are very confusing,” Kysa said bluntly. “Wasn’t it you who convinced the Fatechaser to defy what Fate has in store for

him?”

I winced. She had me there. “I convinced him to try,” I said, shrugging. “And it’s different for Halek—he’s not doing anything

he wouldn’t already do. I know what I am, Kysa. I’m not a warrior. I’m not a hero. I’ve made it this far because surviving

is what I’m good at. In the guild, it was every hood for themself. You stick your neck out for someone, you just get your

head chopped off.”

“Then I’m glad you made an exception for us the other day.”

Everything inside me cringed as Raithe’s low, quiet voice drifted into the conversation. His tone wasn’t angry or accusatory,

but it still made me want to slip away into a dark corner so I wouldn’t have to face his disappointment.

Wait, why do you care what he thinks of you? A spark of defiance made me frown. He’s a kahjai who has probably taken dozens of lives, maybe hundreds. You’ve always known what you are. You won’t ever be what he wants.

“Don’t get up on my account,” Raithe told Kysa, who had shoved back her chair. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“I was just about to leave, anyway.” Kysa rose with elegant grace, her black hair shimmering in the greasy tavern light.

“Rhyne will be impatient for his dinner,” she said, as Halek waved to her from his table.

“If I don’t feed him in a timely manner, he starts chewing his stall.

” She rolled her eyes in an affectionately exasperated manner.

“That’s the problem with having a mount that can eat literally anything.

Once I was forced to ration his food, and he chewed a cart-size hole in the lower deck. ”

“That would be amusing,” Raithe said, “if it wasn’t also terrifying.”

Kysa chuckled. “Remind me to tell you the story of Rhyne in the shipyard one day.”

She walked off, chitin boots clicking against the metal floor of the tavern. I noticed several male patrons stop what they

were doing to watch her leave. Including Halek.

Raithe sat down in the chair next to mine. I avoided his eyes, drawing farther into my hood, but felt his gaze on me all the

same. Was he angry? Disappointed? Regretting that he had ever made the promise to take a lowly thief to his grand iylvahn

city?

“I heard that Bahjet and his associate were waiting for you outside your room the other day,” Raithe said, referring to the

pair of merchant princes we’d met earlier. They had been lurking in the hall one morning, cornering me as soon as I’d stepped through the door. I’d given them the slip, but they

were persistent, chasing me down the corridor while shouting the wonderful benefits of joining their venture.

“They won’t be bothering you again,” Raithe went on. “And no,” he added as I peeked up, “I didn’t kill them. I did make it

very clear that you were not interested in their offer, and that further inquiries would be very bad for their business.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I was planning to never use my front door again and just pry up the floorboards, but that works, too.”

A faint smile crossed his face, which made my stomach do that weird little flutter. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” he

said, still smiling. “I have enough on my mind without having to think about people scurrying around beneath my floor.”

A snicker escaped me, which was a bit surprising. After all that had happened in Kovass, I hadn’t been certain I would ever

laugh or joke again. “Just tell yourself it’s mice,” I said. “Really, really big mice. Nothing to worry about at all.”

“Mmm.” He narrowed his eyes. “I keep hearing rumors about some kind of creature ghosting around the machinery decks. Some

of the workers are even starting to whisper that Captain Gahmil’s spirit has returned and is haunting the lowest floors. You

wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

I shrugged. How the striders worked had always fascinated me. I wanted to see the gears and machinery for myself, despite

signs proclaiming Danger! and No entry in certain areas. “Probably really big mice,” I told Raithe.

He gave a resigned chuckle, making my insides squirm again. “Well, I hope they’re careful mice,” he said. “We don’t want anything

happening to them this close to Damassi.”

“They’re very careful mice,” I assured him. “No one will ever see them at all.”

“What? Are we talking about mice?” Halek asked as he joined us, plopping into a chair across from me. “I think I have a couple

living in my wall. By the way, do not play Triple Fang with Rhulac over there—I’m pretty sure his dice are weighted.”

“You seemed to be doing pretty well regardless,” I said, remembering the stack of coins on Halek’s side of the table.

He shrugged. “Oh, I definitely won most of the time. I’m just saying he was probably cheating. Weird, right? Anyway...” Halek gave both me and Raithe a serious look. “We’re only a couple days from Damassi. Where are we going after we reach the city?”

“?‘We’?” Raithe frowned. “I was under the impression that we would part ways once we reached the coast. Sparrow and I will

be traveling across the Barren Steppes toward the Maze, the steep cliffs and canyons that surround Irrikah. It’s a hard, dangerous

journey, even for one of the iylvahn. I can navigate the Maze well enough, but I cannot promise you would be allowed into

the city, Halek. They might turn you away at the gates.”

Halek started to answer, but suddenly, my skin crawled, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. Instantly

wary, I looked around the room, searching for anyone whose gaze lingered on our table, who seemed far too interested. No one

was watching us; even Rhulac at the center table was drowning his losses in drink and ignoring everyone around him. Still,

I couldn’t shake the intense feeling that something was staring at me.

“Sparrow?” Raithe leaned toward me, lowering his voice. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “I feel like we’re being watched.”

Raithe swept his gaze around the tavern without moving his head. “There is no one observing us,” he murmured, as Halek casually

leaned back with his hands behind his skull, also scanning the room. “Are you certain of this?”

“Yes,” I whispered. The feeling wasn’t abating; in fact, it was getting stronger. Though Raithe was right—no one in the tavern was paying any attention to our table. “I know it’s strange, but—”

A needle of pain lanced through my temple, making me suck in a sharp breath. Clenching my jaw, I pressed a hand to the side

of my head, expecting to find a dart or something sharp protruding from my hood. Almost as soon as the pain began, however,