“Hey,” a voice says. “Wake up.”
A small hand nudges my shoulder. “Come on, Rae. Wake up. Please.”
I open my eyes to gaze blearily at a scrawny young boy with a thin, foxlike face and short hair sticking out in every direction, the early morning light warming his features. Fastu.
I jerk upright, glancing around wildly, but we’re alone on the riverbank, no slavers or sorceresses in the vicinity. I must have passed out after she departed, and slipped into a deeper sleep from there. It’s a testament to my weakness that I slept through the night.
“We’re alone,” Fastu says, watching me keenly.
I take a steadying breath while he pushes himself to his feet. The scent of prairie grass is overlaid by my own stench, partially mitigated by my dip in the river, but still there, stale and slightly
