*
KIRAN DOESN’T WASTE TIME asking questions. The moment he sees me sprinting his way he swings atop Dell and swoops down to grasp my upper arm. She’s already running by the time I’m all the way on her back.
I hang on as tightly as I can, arms latched around Kiran’s lean waist, feeling the sweat that dampens his shirt on my cheek.
Something crashes in the bushes behind us, big enough to be a horse and rider. Whether or not it’s Mr. Greer, I don’t know. I don’t look back. Not this time.
Kiran aims Dell through the woods and we stay low, avoiding the branches that threaten to scoop us right off her back. To our right is a crowded cropping of squat, green brush, and Dell gallops straight for it. I think she’s about to turn, so I brace to slide, but she jumps and lands in a pool of stagnant water.
The water splashes our legs, soaking my boots. Dell makes her way out, her strong neck heaving. When we’re free, Kiran whispers something in her ear and we’re off again. Flying. He rides like she’s a part of him, an extension of his legs. And I bump along the back with the rest of the gear.
We keep going until there isn’t a single human sound for miles, and even when we pull up, we’re careful to keep our weapons ready.
“Greer,” I heave between breaths. “The mayor’s brother. Three…” I shake my head, ridding the murder from my mind. “No, two … more Trackers. I heard them talking. They’re not going to stop until they find me.”
Now that we’re stopped, the words that had been exchanged between Mr. Greer and his men slam into me. I think of Daphne, forced to lay down with a buyer in a private room. Salma’s words echo in my head: “We’re just women.”
If I’m caught, it’s the end of me.
“They’re not going to find us,” Kiran says, but there’s worry in his voice.
“You have to go,” I say. “They’ll take me alive. But they’ll kill you, Kiran.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this. I don’t want Kiran to leave. I need him and he needs me. But I can’t have his death on my conscience. I can’t dig another hole in the ground with nothing but a rock in my hand, and lay him inside as we did Brax. I refuse.
Dell’s spinning in a tight circle, ready to run again. Kiran calms her with a soothing hum.
“We’ll go back towards the city. They won’t think we’d do that,” he says. It’s desperate. We both know it, but Kiran has a point. The closer to the city we go, the farther we lead them away from Lorcan, Daphne, and the twins.
“You head towards the city,” I say. “I’ll keep going on foot. They’re not looking for us to be together anyway. They said a real Driver would probably kill me out here for masquerading as one of them.”
A grimace tightens his mouth. “They’re right.”
We both grow quiet, thinking of Aran, his lifeless body stuffed beneath the bushes not far from here.
I try to dismount, but Kiran grabs my arm. I succeed in swinging my leg back over Dell’s haunches, but somehow he goes over the horse’s neck and hits the ground before me. He’s attempting to wrestle me back into the saddle and I’m struggling to get away from him, but the harder I breathe, the more I can smell the leather and sweat and wood smoke on his skin.
“Let go!” I ram my foot down on his in frustration and he grunts in pain.
“Don’t be crazy,” he says. “There’s another way.”
I twist out of his arms at the same time as he clamps down, which results in his elbow knocking me hard in the chin. He lets go then, and I topple onto my backside.
“Yeah.” I move my jaw from side to side. “I guess you could always kill me!”
He turns away, head down, and kicks a rock into a tree with a dull thunk.
“You … could kill me,” I repeat slowly.
He spins back. “What?”
“You can kill me!” I push myself back up, and though now he seems to be purposefully staying back, I close the space between us and grab his biceps. “I know what to do!”
“You’re kidding, right?” His chin lowers until he can glare right into my eyes.
I shake my head, trying to work out the details. It’s perfect. Well, perfect enough. Either way, it’s all I’ve got left.
“I’m not gonna kill you,” he says between his teeth.
“Shoot me.”
“You’re not getting it.”
“With an arrow,” I roll on. “That way they’ll know it was a Driver that did it. A Driver that saw me dressing up and pretending to be your kind.”
“Aya, you are my kind!”
“Just listen!” My voice smacks off the trees. The volume makes him wince, and his eyes dart around the woods.
Before he can say anything, I continue.
“I’ll be no use to them dead. They don’t want to bring me back just to hang me, they want to bring me back to own me. They’ll leave my body out here to rot, just like the others.”
“They’re not idiots. They’ll know if you’re faking.”
“They might not.” I take a deep breath. The prospect of this plan is making me a little lightheaded. “When you were sick, I gave you bloodroot tea. It knocked you out, but not just that, it slowed your heart.”
He releases my arms, a worried look on his face.
“What?” I say.
“Kyna told me she thought I was dead. My heart wasn’t beating.”
My heart twitches at the name. “It was beating. Just very, very slowly. You would have woken out of it after a while, but the medicine she gave you seemed to speed up the healing.”
“I’ve … I’ve got that medicine,” he says. “Kyna gave me too much of hers, so I was going to replace it. She needs it. For her legs.”
I remember the green bottle Kiran stole from the pharmacy, wrapped up inside his saddlebag.
“You could give me some,” I say.
His hands fist in his hair. “It doesn’t matter if I could or I couldn’t because your plan won’t work. We’re going to keep moving. We’ll hide you, and this whole thing will blow over.”
“It won’t. Not until they find me,” I say.
He’s digging his heel into the ground, not even realizing—or caring—that he’s leaving a new mark for the Trackers.
“So you’re going to make some kind of tea and then lay on the ground and hope they think you’re dead. By what, poison?”
“You’re going to shoot me. With an arrow.”
“Forget it. Get on the horse. We’re going.” I can practically hear his jaw grinding.
“Do it,” I say. “Or I’m going to do it myself.” Before he can stop me, I snatch an arrow from the quiver tethered to the back of his saddle. The point is sharp enough to break skin, but though my voice is fierce, I’m not sure I can actually do it. I don’t know if I’m strong enough or brave enough to jam it in far enough.
“The bloodroot numbs the pain anyway,” I add, hoping I sound convincing. Hoping he doesn’t see right through me.
“Aya, don’t be ridiculous. You’ll die.”
“The bloodroot slows my heart. It’ll slow the bleeding. You’ll hit me in the shoulder, here.” I mark the spot with my hand, hoping Kiran’s got good aim. “Far enough away from my heart, right in the muscle, and make sure they’re close enough to find me quickly. Then when they leave, you’ll come back and wait for me to wake up.”
He’s considering it. I can see the plan working through his mind.
“Please,” I beg. “They won’t stop until they find me. And if I keep hiding, they’ll keep looking. I’ll never be able to see the twins again.”
He’s shaking his head. But his words don’t match the gesture.
“Fine,” he says. “Make the tea. I’ll start a fire. They’ll see the smoke. We’ll find some way to injure you.…” he hesitates. “And then when you wake up this’ll be done.”
“Yes,” I say. But the fear has already set in. By the end of today I’ll either be free or dead.