"What season is this, Batu?" I asked, struck by the notion I had no clue what day it was let alone the time of year.
"Late summer. The nights will start to become too cold to sleep without a fire."
I recalled when I landed originally in the Mongol Empire. It was so cold, breathing hurt. I assumed it was winter.
"Where are we going?"
"To the steppe where I was raised."
"Why there?"
"Because it is home."
"No more wars for you?"
"My time will be spent watching over you, goddess, unless you choose to vanish once more."
"Which I can't do."
"My home is far from the wars and the men who will hunt you. To reach us, they will navigate territory that does not welcome strangers and pass through many steppe people."
It was a smart plan to place layers of protection between anyone like his uncle and me. It seemed to fit Batu's desire to return home, too. At the heart of the Empire, no one could reach me.
Except maybe Carter.