He averts his eyes.

I take the flask out of the bag and pull at the lid.

His hand lands on mine. "Let me," he says.

I glance down at the flask and hand it to him.

He opens the lid, and strong fumes fill the air. He places a strip of linen over the top, then flips it upside-down, allowing the chemicals to drain into another jug.

After the liquid stops, he lays out a second strip of linen on the wooden driver's bench. He turns his back to me, blocking my view with his torso.

"What do they look like?" he asks.

I swallow a lump in my throat, thinking of Jacob's beautiful eyes. They were special, unique, like him. I'm never going to see his smug stare again.

"Green and gold," I say.

The liquid is poured back in the flask, and he places a piece of folded linen in my hands

I peel back the linen and quickly cover them again.

He grabs a shovel off the side of the wagon and scoops me up in his arms. I keep the last piece of Jacob protected in my hands.

Rahlan hikes up a large hill, carrying both me and the shovel. He stops at the very top and places me on the green grass.

His shovel pierces the dirt at the highest point on the hill. He looks at me, waiting for confirmation.

I nod, and he begins digging.

My eyes wander around the open landscape – green hills dotted with red and white flowers. This place is beautiful. Jacob would've loved it.

Rahlan steps on the back of the shovel, forcing it deeper into the dirt. Another clump of soil is flung onto the growing heap beside him. The hole is already a few feet deep.

I slowly rise to my feet, careful not to agitate my head.

He strikes the ground again, ripping out a chunk of dirt and roots. His shovel stabs the soil without pausing, drilling deeper into the earth.

"That's fine," I say.

He forces the shovel another layer deeper with the help of his foot, not hearing me.

"Rahlan?"

He grits his teeth and flings up another clump of dirt. The shovel is driven down again, cutting into the ground and deepening the hole.

I step forward and touch his back. He swings around to face me, his breathing heavy.

"That's fine," I say again.

He steps back. I kneel down and place the folded linen at the bottom of the hole. My eyes linger on the small piece of white material. Goodbye, Jacob.

Rahlan waits for me to stand before filling in the hole. The dirt is flattened to match the surrounding earth, leaving nothing but the lack of grass as an indication of the grave.

He drops the shovel and heads down the hill. A minute later he returns with two large round stones in each hand. They're placed beside one another over the grave.

His figure disappears behind the hill again. I find a similar stone nearby, but it's too heavy to lift, so I roll it towards the grave.

By the time I reach the site, my arms are exhausted, and my head is aching. Rahlan has placed thirteen stones over Jacob's remains, forming a two-layer square pyramid. I try lift the final rock for the tip, but it just rolls out my hands.

Rahlan takes the final stone and places it on top, completing the small tower.

He takes a step back, giving me space.

The sunset tints the hills yellow. It reminds me of the plains to the north of our village. We found a cave and built a base there as kids. I wish I could forget everything, all of it.

I glance back at Rahlan, and he carries me back to the wagon. He tuts Mittens forward, and I lay back on the blankets, my gaze on the stone tower growing smaller behind us.

* * * * * * * *

The stars are scattered across the evening sky. I rub the sleep out of my eyes. The slow grind of the wagon wheels is gone. When did we stop?

I sit up to stretch, but the scene around me immediately makes me shrink back down. Vampires. Everywhere.

I pull the blanket over my head like a hood and peek out over the wagon's side. I'm in the middle of a vampire camp even larger than the last one, and Rahlan is nowhere to be seen. Soldiers in red and gray armor stand beside large tents of matching colors, any of whom would be happy to slaughter me if I misstep.

Running would get me killed. I scan the camp for Rahlan. A figure wearing a familiar red and black cape steps inside an extravagant tent guarded by two vampires.

What's he doing here? What's so terrible that he wanted to keep me in the dark about this place? My stomach sinks. He doesn't need me anymore. He's going to sell me to these soldiers.

I climb down the side of the wagon, careful not to agitate my headache. My short uneven steps lead me towards the tent. This can't happen. I need to convince him to change his mind.

The chilly air nips at my exposed skin. I've still got my leather pants, but the tunic is gone, and the only thing covering my top is a wrapping of bandages around my ribs. I hug my arms over my bare stomach to try keep warm.

Humans don't walk around chainless in a vampire camp. Some are watching me, but I keep my gaze forward. The jagged motion aggravates the dull pain throughout my skull.

I rub my forehead trying to numb the ache and focus on my feet. Just a little further. Two guards stand on either side of the tent. Maybe they'll let me pass. It's not like I resemble anything close to a threat in my current state.

"Halt." The guard's gloved hand wraps around my bandaged arm and squeezes tight.

I let out a cry and curl back from the sudden pain that wasn't there before.

The other guard slaps the one holding me. "She's injured, numbskull."

To my relief, he lets go. Without taking a second to think about it, I dive through the curtain between them and land inside the tent on my hands and knees.

The impact ripples up my stinging arm and into my head. I raise my gaze, resisting the urge to close my eyes from the headache.

Rahlan is staring at me in horror. My eyes are drawn to the man behind him. He has a long face, curly brown hair and a silver ring on his head that glows in the candlelight.

Two iron hands lock around my biceps and pull me to my feet. "My deepest apologies, King Groel," a guard says, "We did not foresee her second attempt."

His red eyes bore into mine. The vampire king.