“Run,” he whispered. “Run.”“No, Rand,” I said, brushing the dirt from his face. “I’m tired of running.”“Forgive me, please.” He clutched my hand as his eyes beseeched me through tears of pain.“You’re forgiven.”He sighed once, then stopped breathing. The shine in his brown eyes dulled. I pulled his hood over his head.”

“Aren’t you worn out from running?” His lips follow a tear down my neck, and then he brushes my face with his hand. “I don’t want to live without you another day. I’m begging you for another chance. Please.”

“The man running toward me is not a man, he is a boy. A shaggy-haired boy with a crease between his eyebrows. Will. Dull-eyed and mindless, but still Will. He stops running and mirrors me, his feet planted and his gun up. In an instant, I see his finger poised over the trigger and hear the bullet slide into the chamber, and I fire. My eyes squeezed shut. Can't breathe.The bullet hit him in the head. I know because that's where I aimed it.”

“Stop!" I sent my open hand sailing and slapped Talbot across his face. He let go of the spear and stared down at me-that rage burning in his eyes. Then he blinked and clutched his palm over the red hand-shaped mark I'd left on his face. "What was that for!" "He submitted.Let.Him.Go.”

“This is your home.” He reached up his other hand and gripped my face, pressing down hard against my cheeks. I nodded. “Say it!” “I won’t run,” I whispered as I watched an angry tear trickling from his eye. I leaned forward and licked it away.”

“He stared up at me, and even as the house fell apart around us, even as drops of fire rained down from the sky, his hand raised and brushed a lock of hair out of my face, and I felt his stomach rise as he breathed in deeply.“You,” he whispered. “You’re a boy?” His hands cupped my face, and a tear streaked down my cheek onto his fingers. “I dreamt of you but… but I never thought…”