The horseman steers us south, into the desert. There’s nothing out here except rolling expanses of dry earth. It’s beautiful in a very austere sort of way. We’ve only ridden for maybe five or ten minutes when War stops his horse. “Where are we?” I ask, glancing around as I hop off Deimos. “I don’t exactly know,” he says, dismounting, his kohl-lined gaze squinting at the sun. I glance around. “So there’s no particular reason why you brought me here?” I ask. “Oh, there’s a reason,” he says, “it just has nothing to do with our surroundings.” I’ve taken a few steps away from him, but now I glance
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