“Faith,” he murmurs, voice gentle as he strokes my cheek.

It takes everything I have not to lean into his caress like a kitten. I close my eyes and sigh. “Mmm?”

“Get your ass up,” he says in that same gentle tone. “Because I am fucking leaving.”

I open my eyes and scowl up at him. “Bye.”

His nostrils flare. “I was nice! Get up!”

“Bye,” I say again and stretch my legs on the cobblestones. It’s not comfortable, but it infuriates Aron, and so it’s worth it.

We glare at each other for a long moment, waiting for the other to break. I’m determined not to, though, and I feel a triumphant surge when he turns his back and stomps away. Score one for the mortal. Of course, when he continues to storm away, I start to feel uneasy. “Where are you going?”

“I told you. I am leaving. It is not safe here.” He doesn’t turn around. “If you are wise, you’ll leave, too.”

That warning’s a little unnerving, but I don’t like the fact that he’s telling me what to do. I’ve had enough of that already, and the stubborn part of me just wants to ignore him even more. He’s trying to scare me into trotting after him, and it’s not going to work. “See you around, then. Good luck finding another shmuck to be your anchor.”

He doesn’t stop.

Fine, then.

I feel uneasy as he leaves. I watch his back retreat for quite a while, because the ground is so level. I wonder for a moment if I should go after him, and then I decide that no, I’m not. It’s only our magic bond—one that I never should have volunteered for—that’s making me have second thoughts. And I’ve been alone up until this point, haven’t I? I might be better off without Aron at my side. So I watch him go until he’s no more than a distant speck on the horizon.

That’s that. Fuck that guy.

The sun gets high in the sky. It starts to get warm. Really warm. Time to get moving, then. I get to my feet, which ache the moment I put weight on them, and start to head down the cobbled road in the same direction as Aron. For a moment, I feel foolish. We’re traveling in the same direction anyhow, but like petulant children, we’re not going to be together. It’s so silly.

Of course, he started it.

Of course, that sounds even more childish.

My head throbs and my entire body hurts. I realize it’s not going to get any better the longer I stay in one place, so I head after him on the road for a bit. Strangely enough, I start to feel better the moment I begin traveling again. I do wonder if it has something to do with our bond.

Before I can contemplate that thought for too long, I hear a low, rhythmic pounding. I press a hand to my breast, but it’s not my heart. As it grows louder, I glance up at the skies. Is this Aron’s doing? Some weird thunder god bullcrap to intimidate me? But the skies are clear and light blue with the early morning. I notice in the distance that there are clouds of dirt. That’s odd. Either it’s really windy…or something’s moving.

Unease worms through my belly.

A moment later, I see shapes slowly lumbering into view. A moment after that, I realize they’re not so lumbering after all. They’re actually going pretty fast for the land-hippos, and there are riders atop them. Their movements match the steady drumming I hear, and I frown at the sight. My first instinct is to hide, but there’s nowhere to go. I glance ahead down the road, but Aron’s not in sight any longer. Maybe I can beat them. They look as if they’re coming up from one side of the Dirtlands, so I limp into a half run, moving as fast as I can. Fear makes me move faster than I thought possible.

It’s still not fast enough. The thundering of hooves gets louder and louder as they grow closer and closer, and I start racing full out, my breath panicked and rasping. The land-hippos are almost upon me now, but I can’t stop, mindless fear pushing me forward. Even if I get run over, I’ll have at least died trying.

Hands grab me around the waist and haul me into the air.

I scream as I’m pulled against an armored stranger, flailing my fists and kicking against him. He laughs as if my attacks are nothing. “What have we here?” His hippo slows, the thunderous clod of its feet quieting.

“Fuck you,” I tell him, trying to hit once more.

The man grabs my arms and pins them at my side and grins down at me. “A runaway slave, I think. Unless they’re letting pretty women into the Aventine militia now?” He eyes my stolen military tunic. “How good are you with swords, love?”

Well that’s a dirty question if I ever heard one. I scowl at him, struggling against his grip. “I’m not a runaway, and let me go! Put me down right now or you’ll be sorry.”

“Is that so?” Another rider comes up next to him, and I notice that all of the hippo riders—four of them—have paused to watch me attack their friend. I don’t stop squirming or struggling, because I’ll never give up. Giving up means that they win, and I’m tired of the bad guys winning. “She’s a pretty face. We can take her to the slave pits in Aventine and sell her for a fair coin, I think.”

“More than a fair coin,” the one holding me says. “Look at these fine tits.”

“Hey, remember me?” I say snarkily, jerking my shoulders. “I’m my own person and you can’t sell me.” I don’t point out that someone did just that a few days ago, because they don’t need those details. “And besides, I’m already claimed by the big guy.”

“Big guy?”

“You know, Lord of Storms? Aron? Kinda cranky? Has a scar? Arrogant as fuck?”

They laugh at me. “By a god?” One sneers in my face. “Do you think me a fool?” He gives me a jiggle. “These tits are nice but they’re not that nice.”

“Clearly you missed the memo,” I tell them, twisting. Jesus, how is this guy managing to hold onto me like this? I swear his arms are like a steel trap, because no matter what I do, I can’t get free. Of course, I’m tired from walking all night, so maybe I just don’t have any strength left, but I’m frustrated nevertheless. “Aron returned and he picked a servant and it’s me. So you need to let me go unless you want a lightning bolt up your butt.”

Hey, it sounded good in my head at least.

The men just laugh again. “Storytelling—a good trait in a pretty slave, but I imagine her mouth will be put to other uses.”

“Ew,” I tell him, revolted.

“Wrap her in your cloak and let’s go before someone shows up to reclaim her,” the rider closest to my captor says. He reaches over and grabs the tasseled reins from his buddy, who wraps me in his dark green cape. Dick.

“I swear, I belong to Aron,” I tell them. “You have to believe me. I’m his anchor.”

“If that’s so, where is your god?” One arches an eyebrow at me, amused.

“Er, around.” Shit.

He snorts and it’s clear no one believes me.

And then, despite my protests, they continue to set off across the hills of the Dirtlands. They ignore the cobbled path and go cross-country, and I realize they’re taking me in the opposite direction I was heading with Aron. To the Citadel, like the one said. The goddess’s city, though I don’t remember her name, just that Aron wasn’t a fan of her.

I still struggle, but my movements grow more fatigued with every beat of the land-hippo’s hooves. I’m tired and all of my energy is gone, but I can’t give up. I can’t be sold into slavery again. I just can’t. Is that all this land does is freaking enslave people? Why am I here if I’m just going to be sold from person to person? Frustrated, I glare up at my captor, but he just grins down at me as if I’m the most adorable little runaway slave he’s ever seen, no doubt mentally counting money in his head. I hate this guy.

At least he didn’t call me “tart.”

I blow out a breath and relax for a moment to regroup. I’ll need energy to run away, I tell myself. I’m not giving up. I’m conserving my strength and I’ll slide off the land-hippo when we stop. Somehow. Then I can wiggle free and run away. Sure, it sounds good in my head. More than anything, it doesn’t sound like giving up, and that’s the only thing I’ve got right now.