“Mara hurries over and takes my hands. "Er, congratulations on your pending nuptials?"I whisper, "He'll be so angry when he learns I have engaged us without his knowledge.”

“I make my hand my whole world. Hand hand hand hand. I push through the sand and light and heat, and with every bit of strength I have in me, I squeeze back.”

“Until recently, I believed all horses were alike. They’ve been giant, four-footed animals with ugly dispositions and alarmingly large teeth for so long that it’s a bit startling to notice how different they are from each other. Mara’s mare, for instance, is a chestnut bay except for a wide white blaze down her nose that makes her seem perpetually surprised. My huge plodding mount is a dark brown near to black creature, with the most unruly mane I’ve ever seen. Her shaggy forelock covers her right eye and reaches almost to her mouth.Mara’s mare head-butts her in the chest. Grinning, Mara plants a kiss between her wide, dumb eyes, then murmurs something.“Have you named her?” I ask.“Yes! Her name is Jasmine.”I grimace. “But jasmine is such a sweet, pretty flower.”Mara laughs. “Have you named yours?”“Her name is Horse.”She rolls her eyes. “If you want to get along with your mount you have to learn each others’ languages. That means starting with a good name.”“All right.” I pretend to consider. “What about Imbecile? Or Poops A Lot?”

“I knew someday you would realize your worth. Your worthiness.'I shake my head. 'Oh Ximena, he was right to choose me but not becuase of my worth...You, Cosme, Hector...were already willing to be heroes. But I would have done nothing, become nothing, were it not for this thing inside me. So you see, God picked me becuase I was unworthy.”

“I almost panic then. The pleasure-power feeling flees, replaced by humiliation. It's obvious my husband doesn't recognize his own wife. Yet even in this public place, he can't be bothered to hide his admiration for a woman that he finds attractive. He used to stare at me so intently, like I was the only thing in the world. Have I changed so much? Or maybe that mesmerizing gaze was just a weapon in his arsenal of appeal. Maybe he never actually saw.Anger carries me the remaining distance. He is the one who should feel grimy with shame, not me.”

“If I were an enemy, and I started bearing down on you like this," he draws his sword, stretches the tip towards me, takes a single step in my direction, "what would you do?" Possibilities race through my head. Should I look for a weapon? Dodge and come up behind his guard? Trip him? Insult his mother?”

“Given a choice between my life and yours, I will choose mine. Every time. Without hesitation.”