CHAPTER NINETEEN
My feet are blistered and swollen. My mouth is parched. I have no idea how long we’ve been walking. It feels like days. In fact, I think it has been days. The sun has set and risen several times.
With one hand, I cling onto Bree. She’s so weak it reminds me of the time back in the mountain cabin when she had a fever. If she had been well enough to travel with me to the cabin I’d found, where would we be now? Would we still be safe in the mountains, hiding from the slaverunners? Would I have avoided fighting in the arenas and being forced to become a murderer? Or would we have perished in the mountains? There would always have been something waiting to finish us off. Death seems to lurk around every corner.
I don’t even know if we’re heading in the right direction, but I
