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drove into the ground behind her, but she felt the metal blade scrape her heel. The big warrior drove the spear down deep into the ground, and Olyva’s hands were tied to the spear. Then, a rough rope was used to tie her bare ankles to the spear as well. Her toes were still rooted in the ground, but with the thick blanket blocking the sunlight, Olyva grew weak. Just standing upright became difficult for her. She wanted to lie down and sleep, but she couldn’t free herself from the makeshift stake that Bu’yorgi had bound her to.
    “Bring wood!” Bu’yorgi roared. “We’ll burn her tonight.”
    Olyva cried out again when she heard what they were planning to do. Her voice wasn’t as loud, and her defiance was little more than a pitiful whine. Fire was her greatest fear. The insatiable flames would devour her alive, and even though she struggled valiantly, she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it.
    Silently she cursed herself for being so careless. She had known that the enemy raiders were behind the sickness that had swept through the Hoskali tribe. But she was so focused on helping the sick that she had let her guard down. She should have felt the raiders approaching through the ground, but somehow she’d missed it.
    “Let me go,” she said whenever she heard anyone passing by. “Please, I’m not a threat. I won’t fight. Just let me go.”
    The enemy raiders ignored her pleas. As the day progressed, her strength wilted more and more. Only her feet, ankles, and hands were exposed to the amber sunlight. She struggled to breathe through the filthy blanket. As the men piled wood and tamaka dung around her, Olyva felt her fear morph into full-blown panic.
    “No!” she shouted. “Let me go!”
    The men began to laugh, and she heard them mocking her, but her mind seemed to shrink down in on itself. She refused to believe that they were really going to burn her alive.
    Finally the sun set. In the blighted lands, the light from the sun was filtered through the think bank of mist and evenly dispersed. There was no twilight, no beautiful streaks of red and orange across the sky, just a sudden shift from day to a night that was completely dark. Without stars or light from the moon, night in the blighted lands was like being in a deep cave. Olyva felt the sudden darkness. To her, the absence of light was almost debilitating. She felt a wave of fatigue crash over her and a deep craving to be close to the ground. She preferred sleeping without a blanket or mat of any kind, letting her exposed skin touch the earth as she rested.
    What little light filtered through the musty blanket was suddenly gone, and Olyva felt cold. Her mind seemed foggy, but she sensed the small fires the raiders had built to illuminate their plunder. All afternoon Olyva had heard the warriors pillaging the Hoskali camp. She heard tents being ripped to pieces. Anything made of wood was smashed, and then the pieces were piled around her. With nightfall came the sounds of celebration. Olyva could smell the spirits being consumed. Part of her wanted to close her eyes and sleep, but fear and discomfort made that impossible. Tears fell, and her shoulders shook as she despaired for her life.
    Then there was a commotion in the camp. Olyva couldn’t tell what it was, but she heard the warriors shouting and running. Hope blossomed in her heart. Perhaps Rafe had returned. Perhaps he was there at last to save her from the fire. She struggled again, but it was a useless gesture. She was even more weak in the darkness than she had been in the daylight. The ropes had been tied too tightly, and she could do nothing but wait breathlessly and hope that somehow she might be set free from the death she feared most.

Chapter 4
    Tiberius
    Eventually Tiberius’ strength ran out, and the cloaking spell that hid him failed. The raiders could see him, lying propped against an overturned cart, but he was just another sick Hoskali to them.
    Tiberius had feared that