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Emara leaned against Sweetshore, still reeling from the night’s activity and the loss of sleep. Across the lush vineyard, the sun reached tangerine and pink fingers over the mass of green vines in the dawn’s cheery celebration of a new day. And though Emara’s muscles ached and her eyelids drooped, she felt the hope of the receding shadows. She never tired of that full, warm sun lighting the world, and a candle of possibility burned brighter in her with each passing sunrise—that perhaps, she might be able to bring it to her world one day.

“I can’t believe I missed it.” Chipo loaded her pack onto Beachdawn and pointed to where Jai doused the remains of their campfire. “He had a sword through him, and you healed him completely!”

Jai’s smiling eyes met Emara’s, and her cheeks warmed as she busied herself with her own saddlebags. “I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what you’ve done.”

Chipo shook her head, her thick braids swaying. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I’ve had some intense moments, but my strength is in fantastic multitasking. I’ve healed almost a dozen at once, but those were small injuries.” She tightened the saddle strap. “I don’t think I could take the pain of a mortal wound. My father warned me not to even try it and yet…” She gestured victoriously to Emara, pride beaming from her face. “Obviously, it’s possible!”

“That’s because I didn’t take the pain.” Emara gestured to the two unconscious men now trussed on the ground with a terse note from Chipo describing their crimes for whoever found them. “I forced it on those two.” And although the idea had certainly saved Jai’s life, she still felt strangely guilty about it. Her gift was to heal, not to hurt.

“You channeled the pain to them?” Chipo stilled, her eyes growing round. “That’s brilliant. I can’t imagine the amount of focus it must’ve taken to control that much pain.” She shook her head, her expression growing soft as her voice lowered. “See, Emara, you have the power. It’s practically bursting out of you.”

“Hey,” Jai called, pointing to where Wiry had begun to squirm. “You sure you just want to leave them here? It looks like the little one is coming around.”

“Yes.” Chipo raised her chin before turning and mounting her mare. “We won’t let them delay us a second longer. If there are people after us, then someone will come upon them before too long.”

“Or they’ll just starve to death.” Jai turned away from the wincing man toward Roughwave. “I think that’d be better actually.”

“You can laugh now,” Wiry rasped. “But the magi know what you’re up to, and they’re coming for ya.”

Chipo laughed long and loud. “You expect us to believe that? Ivanora would rather swallow a frog than demean herself with human affairs.”

“Oh, shut your rotted mouth,” Chipo said, already urging Beachdawn toward the road. “It’s our affair. And if the magi want to involve themselves, then let them come.” She straightened in the saddle, flashing a confident grin. “I’d love to chat with their most esteemed graces.”

“Two Time Heirs versus two magi?” Jai barked out a laugh as he mounted Roughwave, giving the bounty hunter an almost apologetic shrug. “My money’s on these two.”

Roughwave sauntered into the road, and Emara followed close behind, her gaze lingering for a just a moment on their two captives, but more with wariness than worry. They would be fine; unfortunately, she had the distinct feeling that someone would be along to free them much too soon.

Jai flashed a smile at Emara over his shoulder, but his face fell when he saw her expression. He slowed Roughwave until they were side by side and leaned in close. “It’s going to be okay, Em. Even if they are following us, they’ve got to be at least a few days behind.” He reached out and gave her elbow a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, Chipo’s right. The magi may be strong, but there’s no way they could take on two Heirs.”

Emara nodded and tried to smile, but her mouth only tightened, because she’d already seen Ivanora defeat two Heirs. Her gaze locked on Jai’s. Seen her kill him. She looked at her hands, her grip constricting around the reins. And even though her powers, fed on sunshine and rest and safety, seemed to be growing faster than a rumor of hope, she knew without a doubt they still weren’t enough.

The Deadlands started as abruptly as Chipo had described. In one stride they were among the sprawling, verdant vineyards of southern Okarria, and in another, the red dunes of the Deadlands swallowed any signs of life. Even the birds that swooped through the mid-morning sunshine seemed to avoid the blighted land, skirting its edges. And yet, it held none of the fear and dread Emara had thought it would.

After all, this was the place where Idriel had been defeated, not once, but twice. And here, he was little more than an ancient legend. Even as she squinted against the bright glare, she could see no sign of the Lost that flooded her land. Here there was simply… nothing.

“How long will it take on foot?” Jai glanced both ways down the dirt road—the path they’d come and its curved route around the desert. “Is there no other way?”

“If we keep a steady pace, we should make it by daybreak.” Chipo stroked Beachdawn’s neck. “We can carry enough food and water for ourselves, but the horses wouldn’t make it to the first well without water.”

Emara wiped a hand across her face, the weariness from the missed night of sleep weighing on her shoulders. Even though the desert looked relatively calm, she still didn’t relish the idea of traveling through the night in any place the Lost were known to frequent. Especially on foot.

Still, there wasn’t any help for it. With the magi and the bounty hunters on their tail, they had no choice but to press forward. She dismounted and assessed which weapons she’d take with her. “Will the horses return on their own?”

“These ones aren’t particularly smart, but more than likely the royal guards will collect them on their way to find us.” Chipo flashed a smile. “It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“That’s right,” Jai chimed in, dismounting from Roughwave. “You should be worried about us instead. How are we supposed to outrun the Lost on foot?”

“Oh stop your fussing. They’re slow.” Chipo looped the straps of her pack onto her shoulders. “But don’t forget to bring the big sword. Unless you're planning on tickling them to death, your little knives won’t be of much use.”

Emara did the same but looped the bow and quiver around her shoulder as well. The Lost would be irritating, but it was the magi who really concerned her. Could she even kill a magus with an arrow? Almost certainly not. In fact, it occurred to her she had no idea how to kill a magus at all. At least one that wasn’t set on taking his own life. Still, the familiar weight of the quiver and bow made her feel safer in any case.

Jai straightened the pack on his shoulders and looked to Chipo. “So the last time you made this delightful journey, just how many Lost did you run into?”

Jai blanched, but he turned to Emara next. “And you’re sure that’s something the three of us can handle?”

Emara gave him a smile that she hoped was more confident than weary. “I do.” Her lips twisted at the thought of how close he’d come to death. “But you know, you don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.” She tried to keep her tone light, as if his answer didn’t matter to her. “After all, someone’s already tried to kill you, and if you’re just looking for something to steal, I doubt it’s worth walking through the Deadlands.”

Emara’s breath caught in her chest as his dark irises flashed a smooth deep amber in the sunlight, and his arched eyebrows quirked with a smile.

“I’ve come this far, and I’ll be dusted if I don’t see how this plays out.” He flipped a coin, his gaze holding hers as the gold glinted in the sunlight. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me till the end.” He winked and snatched the coin from the air. “Besides, an epic tale like this will draw crowds in the square for moons.”

Emara rolled her eyes and pushed him away, laughing at her own stupid fluttering heart. Of course there was an angle. With him, there always was.