"You realize we can't go back to Sheridan." "I know." "Have to keep heading southwest now, and I don't know anything about the area. We'll probably get lost or walk into a road and a patrol." "Well"-Hadrian looked down at Royce's side-"you're bleeding again, and I think I am, too, so the good news is we'll likely die before morning. Still, I suppose it could be worse." "How?" "They could have caught us at the tavern, or we could have drowned in that river." "Either way we'd be dead. At this point I'm inclined to see that as better off." "Anything can always be worse," Hadrian assured him. They lay staring up at the sky and watching clouds blot out the stars. Royce heard it before he felt it. A distant patter on the blades of grass along the hillside. He turned once more to Hadrian. "I'm really starting to hate you."