When we came to another rise in the path, the magus helped Sophos climb onto a rock to look downriver.

“Do you see anyone?” we both asked him.

He said no and began to scramble down.

“Wait,” I said. “Do you see any dust?”

“You mean, in the air? Yes, there’s a cloud.”

“That’s horses on the road,” I said to the magus.

He agreed as he helped Sophos down. We tried to hurry, but while I wasn’t in much pain, I didn’t have the strength to move any faster. The next time Sophos looked he could see a glimpse of the horses as they came single file between the rocks. We walked on, until I caught my foot on a stone and stumbled forward. The magus was ahead of me. He heard me catch my breath and turned to help, but by that time I’d hit the ground. He tried to help me up but reached for the wrong shoulder. I could only flutter a hand in distress. My grandfather would have been proud of his training. A thief never makes a noise by accident. I bit my lip.

“Gen? Gen, don’t faint. We’ll leave the path and try to hide somewhere in the rocks. They may go past.”

“No,” I said. That was a hopeless plan, and we both knew it. If he and Sophos left me, they might get away, but there was a better alternative. Between breaths, I said, “There’s a bridge.” Upriver, islands of rock divided the flow of water. Debris had been swept down the river when it was in flood and had lodged against the rocks. One tree trunk stretched from our bank to a pile of rock in the center of the river.

The magus looked over his shoulder and saw the makeshift bridge. “Do you think we can get across?”

“Yes.” There was a second collection of branches that crossed to the far bank. It was more fragile, but it would bear my weight and probably the magus’s.

The bridge, such as it was, was still several hundred yards away. The horsemen were only twice that distance behind us. It was a race between the tortoise and the hare, but the tortoise had just enough head start, and he had the magus to drag him along. We reached the makeshift crossing with the pursuers just behind. They’d left their horses. They couldn’t manage the many pitfalls in the trail, and the men moved faster on foot.

“Sophos, you go first,” said the magus. “Then I’ll help Gen across.”

“No,” I said.

“Should I try to walk?” asked Sophos.

“No!” I insisted that he get on his hands and knees and creep across. One slip and he would be sucked into the river and probably never seen again. A river runs fastest at its narrowest point, and all of the water of the Seperchia had to squeeze between these banks. It was deceptively smooth, but it had the strength to drag a man under in a heartbeat. Sophos safely crawled to the island in the center of the river.

“We’ll go together, Gen,” the magus said.

“No.”

“Gen, I won’t leave you again.”

He looked over my shoulder at the men coming behind and tried to pull my good hand. By then I think he was fairly sure that the guards would let him and Sophos slip away. “Gen—”

“You have to tell Sophos that if the branches on the second bridge sag underneath him, he has to jump to the riverbank. If he tries to cross with his feet in the water, he’ll drown.”

The magus checked on Sophos, who was beginning to cross the second, more fragile bridge. It was made of small tree branches bundled together by the water and held in place where those branches had caught in crevices between the rocks. The wood was brittle, and as branches broke, the bridge dropped closer to the water. The magus knew Archimedes’s principle as well as I did.

“Gen?” He turned back to me.

“I can manage. I promise,” I told him.

Reluctantly he went. He crawled as carefully as Sophos.

Once he reached the island, I slithered down the bank to where the tree trunk was lodged and walked across. The wood had been washed smooth by the water and was a comfort to my bare feet. If it had been half as wide, I would have had no trouble.

The magus grinned as I landed on the rocks beside him and I turned to give him what help I could dislodging the bridge. There was a man starting to cross, but he jumped back to safety before the log came free. The current sucked it away. Over the drumming of water we could hear cursing.

I sent the magus across the second bridge. He went without protest; then I started across. Many of the small branches that held the bridge in place had broken under the magus’s weight, and it sagged dangerously near the water. If it dropped any lower, it would be swept away by the current, but the branches that had held the magus’s weight held mine as well. Halfway across, I saw the length of rope, twisted in the branches. I crept through the tangle of branches onto the rocks beside the magus, just as the men behind me began firing their handheld guns. I wasn’t very worried. The new guns will stop an infantry charge, but they can’t be aimed well enough to allow the rifleman to pick his target. Crossbows would have been much more dangerous, but the queen of Attolia liked to have her personal guard carry the rifles because she thought they were more impressive.

I pointed out the rope to the magus and asked if he could reach it. I had to shout above the sound of the river.

“They might be able to find another tree trunk on their bank. It would be better to get rid of both bridges.”

The magus nodded his head and grabbed on to a rock as he swung out over the river. He picked free a strand of the frayed rope and pulled on it. It broke in his hand. The men on the opposite bank fired again. The magus moved more slowly and picked three or four of the rope ends out of the tangle of the branches before he pulled. This time they held, and the whole bridge twitched and bent. The brittle branches broke off, the bridge shortened a few inches, and the far end dropped into the water. The current swept everything away.

Just then a bullet hit the rock near the magus’s hand. His hand slipped, and he fell forward with his left arm and shoulder in the river. He managed to keep his head up, but even so, the Seperchia nearly dragged him down. Sophos and I both grabbed him by the waistband, Sophos with both hands, I with only one. We pulled with all our strength. The magus kicked his feet, looking for a foothold and, with our help, backed himself out of the water. The riflemen fired again as we all sank behind large rocks, out of their sight. We picked our way between the rocks, up the steep bank of the river. It rose steeply about ten feet, and then the ground dropped away a little. We were safe from any more stray bullets, and we stopped to rest. Only then did I notice the blood dripping down my shirtfront. I touched my fingers gingerly to my cheek.

“One of the bullets must have knocked loose a shard of rock,” the magus said. “It’s taken a divot out of your face, I’m afraid.”

“All my beauty gone.” I sighed.

“It might heal clean,” the magus reassured me, although he could see that I was joking.

“I don’t think so,” I said, feeling the shape of the hole in the skin with my finger. I was quite certain I’d have a feather-shaped white scar. Getting across the makeshift bridge had been well done, and the god of thieves agreed, although some might not recognize his sign of approval.

“What if they sent a party up this side of the river as well?” Sophos asked.

The magus looked at me, and I shrugged with one shoulder. “We can look,” I said. We had left the dystopia behind on the far side of the river. There were rocks along the bank on this side, but the ground quickly flattened out into rolling fields broken by lines of scrub and trees. A road ran between the fields and the river. There were no houses as far as we could see, and no sign of anyone on the road.