Mixing with his memories, Az’s dreams became a haunting catalog of all the wrong that he had ever done. As if from the outside looking in, he saw himself as he was after the death of his father, lost and alone with nothing but his sword and his anger. Watched himself depart without so much as telling his mother and little brother what had happened, leaving them always to wonder. Arriving in the East at the onset of the Three Empires War. Signing up with the side he thought most likely to win, ensuring he would be among the strong, and get his chance to vent his rage upon the weak. Meeting the General; Naberius, that charismatic leader of men, who promised meaning and glory, and provided blood and plunder.

  Lingering somewhere between sleep and death, Az’s life did not so much flash between his eyes as play on a never-ending loop, while he struggled in vain to change or justify all those deeds of which he was most ashamed. From the battles at Drowned Forest, Douro, and Five Corners, to the final massacre at Logside, Az saw himself as a rabid beast, destroying those for whom he now felt so much pity. Over and over, he begged himself to stop, begged others to understand, while the events went on unchanged, and his excuses convinced no one – himself least of all.

  When he finally floated back to the surface, Az was met by the disorienting feeling of neither knowing where he was nor how he had gotten there. He tried to sit up, wincing at the pain that came from his wounded shoulder. He was laying in what appeared to be a teepee, made of twigs and thick waxed canvas, the weak light of the evening sun shining in through the open flap at its peak. Around him were piles of provisions, each packed and wrapped for transport. Beside him was a waterskin and what appeared to be a bowl of cold broth, the sediments in it long settled to the bottom. “Hello?” he struggled to say, his voice catching in his parched throat.

  From outside the tent came the sound of rustling and the main flap opened. In stepped Katerina. Az looked up at her in confusion, hardly recognizing the woman he had rescued from the rocks. Tall and surprisingly handsome, with deeply tanned light brown skin, the woman stood dressed in loose-fitting umber robes. The bandage over her left eye had been removed, and in its place stood a large pink scar, the eye itself having gone misty and turned from light brown to an almost bluish color. Her dark hair had been combed free of knots and woven into two long braids starting at her forehead and reaching down past her shoulders. “Hey there, soldier,” she said in a light cheerful voice. “I’m Kat. Glad to see you pulled through.”

  Reaching slowly to his side, Az uncorked the waterskin and took a deep draw before speaking. “Where am I?” he asked.

  “In a tent,” said Kat smiling wryly.

  Az stared at her, his confusion giving way to irritation. “Whose tent?”

  “Well, I think this one belongs to Obodas’. Although it could be Grandma Huldo’s, I’ve never been quite clear on who owns what.”

  Az continued to stare blankly.

  “We met some traders from Petra. An old lady, her nephew and his kids. They took a real liking to Rhea and offered to basically carry your heavy ass all the way here. They saved your life, no doubt about it. Mine too probably.” She gestured to the scar on her forehead. “I think I must’ve gotten shit in it when I hit my head in the galley. Got pretty gross. But they smeared a bunch of good stuff on there and it healed right up. Wasn’t enough to save my eye, though, which sucks. But I’ll just have to take better care of the other one.”

  Az looked at Kat with amazement. He couldn’t explain why, but he had assumed that the weak and fragile state he had found her in had been this woman’s natural condition. Now, confronted by one so full of life and vigour, he had a new appreciation for the depths of depravation into which she must have been cast to produce her previous behavior.

  “Any other questions?” she asked.

  “How is Rhea?”

  “She’s good. Probably never been better. We are still a day’s walk from Petra but Obodas’ son Aretas went on ahead and returned with news. Several men have already asked for her hand based on her description alone. And several women have issued challenges. Sounds like she’s going to be even more popular in the city than she was with this gang.”

  Az shook his head. “A day’s walk from Petra? You mean Petragrand? How long have I been asleep?”

  “I mean, I wasn’t really counting the days but It’s been a while for sure. Maybe six, seven, something like that. You weren’t sleeping the whole time though. Kept waking up to yell and stuff. You’re lucky the old lady was here. She took good care of you. I know a thing or two about living in my own shit, and I’ll tell you, it’s not as fun as it sounds.”

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  There was a pause and Az began to blush, thinking over all that had just been said. He looked around awkwardly, trying to think of something that might clear the air. “Wasn’t a bunch of this stuff on the ship?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Turns out Aretas and his sister Gamil found the two of you sleeping on the shore and went around collecting all the good stuff.”

  “And they just left us there?”

  Kat shrugged. “Hey, the way our luck was going you’re lucky they didn’t kill you in your sleep.”

  Just then there was another rustle at the tent flaps and Rhea and the old woman pushed their way into the tent. For a moment the three women stood awkwardly in the doorway, each trying not to block the movements of the others.

  “Let me get out of your way,” said Kat, slipping by them and out of the teepee.

  Standing at the foot of his bed, Rhea looked down on Az with bright sparkling eyes. “I’m glad to see you’re awake,” she said, her emotion held just barely in check. “This is Huldo, Grandmother, it was her who saved your life.”

  “Thank you,” said Az solemnly. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. And thank you for taking care of Rhea. She…” he broke off. “It is greatly appreciated.”

  “Say nothing of it, child,” said Huldo, smiling and setting a hand on Rhea’s shoulder. “Your friend here means a great deal to me. I would not think of doing less.”

  Az looked at Rhea. Her appearance had changed greatly since he had seen her last. She was dressed just as the old woman was, with the same umber robes that Kat had worn and with a bandanna tied over her closely shaven head. Her sleeves were rolled up, on one arm almost all the way to the shoulder, proudly displaying the scars she had so carefully hidden all the while he had known her. And around her wrist she wore three heavy gold bangles. His eyes then passed to the old woman, fixing on the scars on her face and forehead and the red-brown dust rubbed meticulously over her skin wherever it was visible.

  “So, you are from Petragrand,” said Az, “It has been quite some time since I last had the pleasure of being in the presence of one from that illustrious place. What brings you so far north-west?”

  “We came overland to the shores of the Dagger Lake to trade for bowstaves,” said the woman. “Many of the islands there have great yew trees, carefully maintained from the age of giants. They undertake to cultivate and propagate the trees and to dry and shape the staves, a process of several years. In exchange we bring them metal from the heart of Petra, both raw and smithed. Riches simply unattainable out here in the land of the tree and the rock. But of course, in our travels we have found something far more valuable than a few dozen bowstaves.”

  “And now you are returning home?”

  “Yes, of course.” The old woman’s clever eyes glinted. “Petra is a holy place. There the bones of the great ancestors lie thick among the rubble of their ancient palaces. It is there that the wind wails as it passes through their tumbled homes, singing to us of all that was once and will never be again. It is there that the world of the spirits lies closest with that of the living. And we who call their city home are their chosen people, both blessed and cursed as the spirits see fit. It is not simply by chance that we found your friend, washed up on the shore at our very feet. The spirits are calling her home. I am blessed to be their agent. And may in turn be blessed again. Rhea has agreed to come with us and be introduced to my only living Grandson.”

  “I see,” said Az, unable to keep the displeasure from showing on his face.

  Huldo watched him closely, then patted Rhea’s shoulder once again. “I will leave you now” she said, “I am sure you two have much to talk about.” And, without having to duck, she passed from the tent.

  The second the old woman had left Rhea’s face broke into a smile. Running to him, she ducked down and gave Az a big and unexpected hug. Pulling back, she looked down on him with a joyful expression on her face. “I’m so glad you are alright. Can you believe our luck?”

  “Well…” He paused, not sure how to say all he was thinking without hurting her feelings. “I’ll admit, I’m having some difficulty believing it. Don’t you find it strange? To have, by chance, fallen in with people who seem to worship you?”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “They don’t think of me as some god, or anything, just as one who has a special relationship with the spirits… which I do.”

  “But Rhea, I know we have never spoken of this before, but there are no spirits. There is only one God, the father and redeemer. And-”

  “Don’t start with that shit.” Rhea’s expression grew suddenly harsh. “There is a reason we’ve never spoken of it. You have your beliefs and I have mine. And we have both seen things the other has not. Nothing in life is without risk. But grandmother has been kind to us. If she wants me to see Petra, and to meet her grandson, then that is what I will do.”

  “But that’s another thing. Petragrand? I will admit that I do not know where we ran aground. But still, unless the storm carried us through the air as well as on the water, we must certainly have gone far out of our way to get here.”

  “Our way?”

  “Yes, our way to Quarryhold.”

  “Listen, Az, we traveled by the route most likely to save your life. Had you died of your wound, what good would it have been to dump your body at the gates of the besieged city?”

  “I-”

  “Please. Stop. Say nothing until you are well and understand our circumstances fully. Much time has passed and much distance has been traveled. Our tribe is not so small as it was when we left Islandnest.”

  There was pause, the two companions both staring at one another. “So, you would really follow that old woman into the heart of the ruins? Meet her grandson and become one of her family?”

  “Please, Az.” There was pain on Rhea’s face and her eyes had once again grown bright with tears. “Not many people in my life have been good to me. Grandmother is one and you are another. She is not asking me to choose between the two of you. Please. I’m begging you. Do not be the one to make that request.” And with that she turned, leaving Az alone with his thoughts in the growing darkness of the tent.