the same thing in the opposite direction. Again, the magic bleeds away from his hands in the exact same direction as before.
Something’s sucking away his lightning, and it’s something over the hills.
“This is a dead place,” he tells me after a moment, and his fingers go out like snuffed candles. He drops his hands and looks around us thoughtfully. “There is no magic or life in these lands. It is being pulled towards the Citadel.”
“First of all, this is fucked up. Second of all, you could have done the lightning thing with your hands all this time and you break necks instead? What the fuck, man?” I give him an incredulous stare.
He grins at me, and it feels like more of a showing of teeth than a friendly gesture. “I like to break necks. Especially the necks of those that anger me.” He stares down at his hands. “And the lightning is…difficult. I do not think I am supposed to be doing it.”
I shake my head slowly, amazed. This man has no idea of what it means to be a person. Not yet. He makes my head hurt. “So your lightning is…what, being drained?”
“Everything is. The spark of life, my essence, everything. If we were to stay in these lands long enough, it would bleed our lives from us.” He points in the distance. “It is all being sucked away to the Citadel, the bastion of Tadekha, goddess of magic. Her devotees pull the force of every living thing for many leagues to power her temple. The High Father is not pleased by it, but he does not stop her.” He looks thoughtful. “Or so I thought. Perhaps she is part of the reason we have all been cast out.”
“Mmm. Lucky me.” I shiver in my long cloak and brush my fingers over my skin as I get another faceful of wind-blown dirt. “You think she’s there in the Citadel like you showed up here?”
“It is possible. I feel a great magic there, but it might be that I feel her followers draining everything.” Aron studies the distant horizon, frowning at it. “If she is there, I do not know if we should venture in that direction.” He flicks a glance over at me. “She is not a goddess that is friendly to me. Aventine and the Citadel have long been uneasy with each other.”
Lovely. “So if she’s being punished, she’ll be there, sucking up all the energy in the world like her own personal black hole. But if she’s not, do you think they would help us? Maybe give us some horses to get to Katharn?”
He shrugs. “Does it matter how fast we get to our next destination? Are you late for something?”
“Well, no—”
“Then we walk on. I have no wish to visit Tadekha or her sniveling worshipers.”
I clench my jaw. “Fine. We’ll keep going, then.”
So we walk.
And we walk.
And walk. It feels like we’re walking endlessly toward a horizon that never changes shape no matter how long we walk. My feet hurt and the gigantic moon moves through the sky, disappearing behind the distant mountains on the horizon, and still we walk.
Occasionally I glance backward to see if I can see the city walls, but they disappeared hours ago, which makes me feel better.
Slightly.
As the sun rises, the skies bleed gold and pink, and I have to admit, I have a new appreciation for this day. This is the Hour of Blood. Dawn. Sunrise. I was supposed to be executed along with dozens of other blondes just because we had the bad luck to be slaves. A knot forms in my throat but I ignore it, just like I ignore the ache in my feet. Aron’s not slowing down, so I don’t either.
By the time the sun is up, though, I’m ravenous and so thirsty that my mouth feels like a desert. I’m also starting to resent the fact that Aron doesn’t seem to be stopping for anything. He doesn’t look tired, and his walk is just as brisk as ever. Me, I’m dragging. I’m sleepy, hungry, and exhausted. I also have to use the bathroom, but I haven’t seen one or even a bush to hide behind. There is literally nothing in the Dirtlands and I’m not about to pop a squat in front of my good buddy Aron.
I force my aching legs to move faster and stride up to his side. I’ve been walking a few steps behind him all this time because I simply can’t