---
"You go," the second hissed back. "Do not put your hand on me again."
"I cannot feel my feet," said a third. "I do not think I have legs."
"You do not need legs to scream," said the first, and almost laughed because he did not know what else to do.
"Shut up," the fourth said. "Shut up shut up…" and then bit his tongue to stop the words.
Kai did not answer any of this. He walked on. He put his boot in a bowl by mistake. It broke under his heel with a dry crack. He did not look down.
He stepped into a small open square between four tents. The elite line rounded both corners at once and closed. It was like a door swinging into place.
Azhara crested a low dune with the armless captain at the end of a short leash made from her bowstring. The string cut into his neck. She did not ease it. He stumbled. Blood still wept from the cut. He made small noises in his throat. She ignored them. Her eyes were on the camp yard where the elite line was forming.
