The boar trails were narrow, so they walked in single file, with Galen and his friends in the middle, Sev and Rea in the lead, and Obi, Iksy, and Zenir behind.

The three friends spoke quietly as they walked, and as Triss and Behn caught Galen up on their own adventures, he felt his spirits rise along with the sun.

"Doesn't your dad need your help with the brewery, this time of year?" he asked Behn, keeping his eyes on the dusty trail at his feet. The boars chose their paths for efficiency, not for human comfort, and the narrow track was steep as a ladder in places, choked with rocks and roots in others.

"Yep," Behn answered breathlessly. His round face was red with exertion, and sweat glistened on his brow. They'd only been on the trail a little over an hour, but the climb was brutal. "But I've been replaced."

"Replaced?" Galen frowned, worried he might've caused some rift between Behn and his father.

Behn nodded, and answered between puffs of breath. "He wasn't... happy with me going after you, but... you saved my life, so... he knew it was the only right thing. Meantime, he figured he'd kill two birds with one stone. Your dad needs a place to stay. My dad needs... an extra pair of hands. With me gone... my dad's got an extra room, and Harrald has..."

He trailed off, flushing an even brighter shade of red as he realized what he'd been about to say.

"Well, Harrald can help out," he finished.

Galen laughed, as much with pure relief and gratitude as with the memory of his father's sense of humor. Whenever anyone asked if Harrald needed a hand with something, he'd hold up his stump and say, 'As a matter of fact, I do.' No one made that mistake twice.

"Harrald will love that," he said. "He hates the idea of taking charity, so I'm sure he'll do more than his fair share." He turned his attention to Triss. "What about your duty to the Guard? Won't you be charged with desertion?"

"If I ever go back, maybe, but I doubt it." She shrugged. "Things were more confused than an ant's nest on fire when I left. I'm not the only one who 'disappeared.' Besides, with the way the temple's been worming its way into our business, I doubt I had much future with the Guard, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

She glanced at him. "You know the way the temple zealots think. 'Women are supposed to stay home and make babies, not ride horses into battle."

Galen grimaced. "But you're the best in your class," he said, "and it's not uncommon for women to be the best archers and the most skilled riders. They can't argue with that."

She rolled her eyes. "That's the problem. People like Darek think women shouldn't be as good, much less better, than men, so they don't like it when they see evidence to the contrary."

Rea glanced over her shoulder, having overheard. "It's the same everywhere," she said, "though I thought Thryn was different."

Triss sized the other woman up with a keen eye. "Thryn is different, overall," she said. "But things are changing, and not for the better. After they drive off the foreigners and 'witches,' who will they blame for the troubles to come? People who don't follow the temple's lead and stick to 'tradition,' that's who."

"But having women in the Guard is tradition," Behn argued. "Thrynis herself is a warrior."

Triss rolled her eyes. "It's not really about tradition. It's about—"

"Power," Rea said, nodding. "Instability breeds fear, and fear is a tool in the hands of those who seek power. Thryn isn't the only province experiencing unrest; it's happening all over the empire."

"More tremors?" asked Behn.

"Not tremors, no; but other things." Iksy's deep voice came from right behind Behn, making the boy start. "Unseasonable rains in Edraxis; a drought in Yuthraka; massive sandstorms in Abarra; strange illnesses in Naqqir. So far, Sakkara remains unaffected, but for how long?"

"What's causing it?" Behn asked. They'd come to a halt beneath the shade of a few shrub-like trees with twisted trunks and prickly leaves and took a moment to sip water and catch their breaths. It was hardly an hour past sunrise, but already the air was warm.

"No one knows," Sev answered, his eyes shifting from silver to dark gray in the dappled shade, "but the people of Thryn aren't alone in their talk of 'imbalances,' and the Order at Jana Val agrees. Magic is woven through the fabric of our world, and something is disrupting it. They hope the p'yrha will hold the answers they seek."

"And they think this 'p'yrha' person is Gale?" Behn asked, brows raised.

"They will test him, yes, but I'm already quite certain that he is. From what I've heard, he healed you through sheer force of will—by channeling raw magic through himself. Only a p'yrha could do that."

Behn looked at Galen and whistled. "Guess you're gonna save the world, Gale. No pressure, huh?"

-✵-

An hour later, they reached the crest of the great hill, and paused once more. As Galen looked out over the land before them, he took in the scale of the challenge that lay ahead.

The hills reminded him of choppy waves, arranged in long, parallel, uneven lines. The one on which they stood was among the tallest, though in the distance he saw some that surpassed its height. Most were smaller, with many creases and folds of land where they joined, and long narrow valleys between. They stretched away so far, he could not see the end of them.

"Holy shitballs of fire," Behn breathed, collapsing to sit heavily on the ground at Galen's side. "You have got to be shitting me."

"Fear not, Master Behn," Sevhalim said, coming to stand at Galen's other side. "We need not climb every hill."

Resting one hand on Galen's back, he pointed over his shoulder with the other, so Galen could follow his line of sight.

"In fact, we'll be traveling around, more than over them."

Galen saw what he meant. If they stuck to the low places between the hills, their path would be less direct, but also less difficult.

"Why did we climb this one, then?" Behn asked, frowning at the familiar way the other man treated his friend.

"I haven't been this way in some years," Sevhalim said. "I wanted to get the lay of the land. Unless we lose our way, we needn't scale such a height again."

He patted Galen's shoulder and moved away to speak with Rea and the others. Behn watched him go with a furrowed brow.

"That creep's got eyes for you, Gale," he said, once Sev was out of range, "or I'm a turnip."

"Eyes?" Galen looked after Sev curiously. He hadn't noticed the other man watching him more often than anyone else.

"It means he likes what he sees," Triss said, coming to sit by Behn and punching him in the arm. "He watches you the way Behn watches a cooling pie. Lucky we're here to watch your back."

Galen laughed and brushed off their concern, but the thought stuck with him. Behn was wrong, of course; if Sevhalim kept any kind of eye on him, it was to guard him and make sure he hadn't run off. And yet, as Galen watched him, he couldn't deny he liked what he saw, too.

-✵-

The day wore on, and beneath a pale sky, the heat blazed across the rugged hills. A hot wind rattled the dry grasses and lifted clouds of fine, gritty dust that clung to Galen's skin. Iksthanis gave Behn a square of cloth and showed him how to tie it over his head so he didn't 'burn like a piece of bacon,' and Triss did the same.

The scenery was drab—all shades of brown and tan, with a few faded bits of green where the tough little trees grouped in the crevices between the hills. They saw signs of the wild boars—droppings and scratch-marks—but caught no glimpse of the animals themselves.

"For the best," Iksthanis said grimly when Behn remarked as much. "They're not as large as the woodland boars, but still vicious devils, when they want to be."

By mid-afternoon, exhaustion made Galen's mind as dull as the landscape, and he trudged along automatically, one step after the next, keeping his eyes on the ground so he didn't trip. The swish and sigh of the wind and Behn's labored breathing were the only sounds, apart from the infrequent croaks of ravens and the scuff of the others' boots on the parched, stony ground.

At last, the heat of day faded, and Sevhalim called a halt at a level place by the base of a hill.

Galen dropped to sit with his back against the gnarled trunk of a twisted tree, and Behn did the same. Both Behn and Triss carried packs, but Behn's was enormous. As the larger boy shrugged out of it and let it drop, Galen realized his friend was stronger than he looked.

As for him, he'd offered to carry something more than once, but each time he'd been turned down, and he wondered if it was because there was truly no need, or if he really looked so frail. At the moment, he was content to let the others set up camp, and shut his eyes as his body gradually cooled, and he caught his breath.

A touch on his throat roused him, and he opened his eyes to find Sev's gray ones staring back at him. He must have dozed off a bit, and saw that the others had assembled a fire ring and had a small blaze going.

"Feeling all right?" Sev asked.

"Fine." Galen batted his hand aside. "Just tired."

Sev sat back on his heels and frowned. "Usually, I'd avoid walking in the worst of the heat, but we needed the miles. I want to get through these damned hills by tomorrow. Are you hungry?" He offered Galen a piece of dried meat. "Supper won't be for another hour, at least."

"Galen doesn't eat meat."

This came from Behn, who'd also dozed off, leaning against his gigantic pack, and now glared blearily at Sev. His face was still flushed, and his eyes were red, and Galen hoped he hadn't over-exerted himself. Galen wasn't as fit as Triss, but he'd often walked twenty miles in a day on his expeditions to the forest. On the other hand, Behn worked hard in the brewery, but rarely ventured beyond the walls of Dern.

"Is that true?" Sevhalim asked, directing his words at Galen. "You don't eat it, or can't?"

"He can if he doesn't want to starve," Rea said as she walked by, carrying an armload of dry wood.

"Well, lucky he doesn't have to choose," Behn said, sitting up and pulling his enormous pack around to his lap. "What do you think I have in here? A change of clothes for the royal ball?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled out several large cloth sacks and a cast-iron pot.

"Rice, beans, oats, pasta, flour." He pointed to the various large sacks, then pulled out and lined up increasingly smaller ones. "Onions, garlic, potatoes, dried peppers, salt, herbs, and spices."

Last, he held up a glass jar and a wooden box, which he opened to reveal an ingenious design of carved oval pockets.

"Oil, and eggs," he said proudly, his inventory complete. "Everything the body needs for an expedition—no meat required. Course, I wasn't planning to feed eight people, so it won't last as long as I'd hoped."

Galen gaped at the array of provisions. "What was your plan?" he asked weakly. "I mean, where did you guys think we would go if you'd actually rescued me?"

Behn shrugged and glanced at Triss, where she was helping Rea collect fuel. "Dunno. Triss said we could always go to Edraxis and become pirates, and..."

And Behn would follow Triss to the ends of the earth, Galen thought. If anyone had eyes for anyone, Behn had eyes for her.