It was midafternoon by the time Kaz reached the top of the river valley. She was exhausted. Her tired feet tripped over stones and twigs. She chanced a glance down at the river. She could just see two of the trackers far below, on the opposite bank. The thread of the bridge no longer interrupted the flow of the water. She smiled, tiredly. Maybe she had finally won herself some time.

She turned and crossed the dip between two peeks at a gentle jog. They were small mountains, compared to the many snow-capped peaks surrounding her. That was probably why the path crossed here.

Within a few minutes, the view of the path disappeared. She reached the edge and looked down. Sure enough, more switchbacks, leading down into a shallower valley before snaking up the other side. She thought she could see the terraces and roofs of a village far to her left. Maybe she could take refuge there, or at least acquire more food. She eyed the switchbacks sourly. If she ever escaped this nightmare, she thought wearily, she would go find somewhere very flat to live, where she would never have to see another switchback as long as she lived, let alone traverse one.

Taking another swig from her lightening water skin, she started running down the mountain. After about half an hour of widening switchbacks in steadily-increasing heat, the path widened and straightened, curving around the mountain. Kaz took longer strides as the incline grew shallower. Ahead, the path turned downward again. She was heading for the slope when someone spoke.

“Hello? Who’s there?” A quiet growl accompanied the words.

Kaz whirled, dropping into a fighting stance, heart frantic from exertion and dread. She was facing a young man sitting under a tree with a long-haired brown dog next to him growling at her. She relaxed - a little. Unless the dog attacked, she was in no obvious danger.

“Who’s there,” the young man repeated, leaning forward.

A shaft of sunlight hit his face. “Sweet Dreamer,” Kaz gasped. He had the same eyes as she did, dark amber flecked with green.

But there was something wrong with them. They weren’t looking at her, though his head turned in her direction. He was frowning now as he said, “Who are you? I know somebody’s there.” His hand grasped the dog’s collar and suddenly Kaz understood.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You surprised me.”

The young man laughed a little. “You surprised me too.” A moment of awkward silence followed, during which Kaz contemplated running again. Any interaction could only slow her down. Before she could act on the thought, however, he spoke again.

“My name’s Owen. You haven’t told me who you are yet.”

“Oh,” said Kaz. She had completely forgotten his initial question. She should just run away and he’d never know. But he was the first human being she had encountered in almost three days, and her aching lungs begged her to stop for a minute. “Oh,” she repeated. She had to tell him something. How exactly could she answer a question like that quickly? She settled on her first name. “My name’s…Kazreena. Kaz.”

Owen smiled. His teeth were a little crooked, but he had a nice smile all the same. He stroked the dog’s ears and it sat, still watching Kaz intently. “That’s an unusual name,” he said. “I like it.”

“Thank you,” she said, surprised. “No one’s ever told me that before.” At the palace, everyone had been either too used to her or too focused on ceremony and politics to mention it. The palace...

Ñakay! She was losing focus. She had to keep going. Panic was overtaking exhaustion. But she couldn’t just run off without some explanation. He didn’t deserve the pummeling that the trackers could give him given the tiniest provocation. And they were sure to be across the river by now, their progress now fueled by anger.

“Listen,” she told him. “I’m in a hurry. Some men will probably come by soon. If they question you, tell them I passed by a while ago. Don’t lie. They’ll only hurt you. But don’t tell them that you talked to me. I don’t have time to explain. Just…well, I think it’s best if you don’t get involved. The less you know, the better. ”

“Involved in what?” asked Owen. “What’s going on?”

“I really don’t have time to explain. Goodbye, Owen.”

“Wait,” said Owen.

“I can’t,” she said, starting towards the descent.

“Just a second!” called Owen. She stopped, grudgingly, poised to run. “When I hear them coming, I’ll make a birdcall, like this.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and blew, creating a piping call. The sound echoed out over the slanting valley before her. “And when they leave.”

For some reason, this simple gesture of kindness threatened to undo her. “Thank you,” she said, before turning away from him and sprinting down the path. It was getting harder to breathe; the emotions were bearing down on her worse than ever. She never should have stopped.

Next Chapter: 4. Owen - Questioning