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“Would love to,” he pants. “But you’d better be sure you can walk. The second I let go, my arms are going to cramp and there will be no picking you up again.”

I try to twist, but his arms are a cage around me. “Where’s Vesper?”

“Right here.” They appear, stepping into my line of vision. If Cato sounds exhausted, they look it, their skin gone ashen with deep circles beneath their eyes. At least they’re not injured. I breathe a slow sigh of relief.

They kept me alive. For the entire night. At great cost to themselves.

By all rights, my injuries removed what strength I bring to this alliance. Vesper and Cato should have left me in the street. Gods, they should have killed me and been done with it. Instead, they hauled me to a rooftop to let the Moon’s gentle gaze heal me, and then proceeded to carry me around the damned city while avoiding the other champions.

“Put me down,” I repeat. “Please.”

Vesper gives me a long look. “Cato’s point still stands. If he releases you, neither of us is in any condition to help you get across the bridge. It’s almost fifth strike, so we don’t have time to linger. Your body has been shut down, apparently to help with healing, but I’m hardly someone with any degree of medical proficiency. You’ll have to be looked over in your temple, but you need to get to your temple before the sixth strike to make that happen.”

I wish I could say with any degree of confidence that I can walk on my own. My body still feels strange and disconnected, something I hope will change once I get some proper sleep. Truly, there’s nothing I want more than to let Cato carry me the last block or so to the champions’ island and deposit me right in the doorway of my temple, where Priestess can take over. But that would be a mistake I don’t think our alliance would recover from.

“I have to walk. We all have to walk.”

“Kestrel, I swear—”

I talk right over Cato. “If we don’t, it’s going to project our weakness. We eliminated two champions last night.” The memory of the meaty sound of my sickles sinking into the Hermit’s body threatens to send my stomach lurching. I swallow a few times until I’m certain I can continue without gagging. At least both Cato and Vesper are listening. “If it looks like we almost died in the process, every one of the remaining champions will target us.”

“It’s what I would do,” Cato mutters.

“You have a point.” Vesper raises an eyebrow. “The question remains if you can actually walk a block and cross the bridge without collapsing. That would be even more detrimental than Cato carrying you.”

They’re right, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t have a choice. “I’ll make it work.”

Cato’s arms choose that moment to give out. The only warning I get is a slight tremor and then I’m falling. I hit the ground with a bone-jarring impact and nearly bite through my lip to keep from screaming.

My shoulder is healed … mostly … but the contact of my tailbone with the flagstones vibrates through my entire skeleton with a horrific thoroughness.

“Fuck. My bad.” He leans over and props his shaking arms on his thighs. A drop of sweat trails over his prominent nose and drips onto the stone between his feet. “I’ll be recovered in a few minutes. Just need to let the Sun do Their thing.”

“Unfortunately, the Wheel doesn’t see fit to aid in that way.” Vesper is panting lightly where they lean against the wall and close their eyes. “But the Sun does feel nice.”

Neither of them looks at me as I fight my way to my feet. My limbs obey my mental commands sluggishly, but they do obey. I’m as shaky as a newborn creature, fresh to the world and unsure of it. My knees try to knock together and I have to stumble forward a few steps to catch my balance. Barely.

I appreciate Vesper’s and Cato’s marked disinterest in my weakness. I understand it from Vesper—they seem intentional in everything they do and are far too observant to miss how uncomfortable being helpless makes me. But Cato? He’s an arrogant ass who, until last night, gave all evidence of not caring about anyone but himself. Even if he only saved me because we’re in an alliance, he kept his word. That means more than all his boisterous bullshit.

“Thank you.” The worlds feel dragged from my chest, broken and bloody. “For saving me.”

“You saved my life. If I did anything else, I’d be a monster.” Vesper smiles tightly. Their leg must be hurting them terribly, because there are deep lines bracketing their mouth, a constant grimace that wasn’t there a few hours ago. How far did they run at Cato’s side?

“Even so.” I look to him. “Thank you, Cato.”

For the first time since I met him, he appears almost bashful. He catches me watching him and curses as he straightens. “Don’t start thinking I’m a hero. This alliance is the best bet I have to take down the Chariot. I have a vested interest in keeping you alive.”

The words are right. The tone is, too, brusque and irritated. And yet … “All the same. Thank you.”

He waves me off. “If you’re going to insist on walking yourself, don’t expect me to wait for you.” He moves off, his long legs quickly creating distance between us until he turns the corner toward the bridge to the champions’ island. The only sign that he had a rough night is the slight stiffness in his movements, barely detectable.

“No wonder he couldn’t get another alliance. He’s such an asshole.” I can’t quite put any heat into the words. Instead, they emerge almost fondly.

Vesper snorts. “Takes one to know one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You, my dear Kestrel, are hardly a bundle of joy even under the best of circumstances.”