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the Sacrifice so readily. Even as it filled me with sorrow that you must bear this burden, I felt great gratitude. And now, you have betrayed us all.”
    Ico stood there, staring at the elder’s withered back, unable to think of anything to say. That back was cold and hard, a barrier that none of his explanations or pleas could hope to pass.
    When Ico had been younger, he had often gone for rides upon that back. And he had known since the time when his horns had been nothing more than bumps, that before the day came when he could give the frail, weakened elder a ride upon his own back, he would have to leave the village.
    “The Mark will be ready for you by the end of the day,” the elder said, still facing the wall. “Once it is complete, a signal fire in the watchtower will inform the priest’s entourage in their lodgings across the river that the time has come. They will be in Toksa within a day, and you will leave with them without delay.”
    “I won’t go anywhere until Toto is back in the village,” Ico managed to say, forcing out the words.
    “I thought you might say that.” The elder snickered; it was a cold, derisive sound. “Buying yourself more time, no doubt.”
    “I’m not, I swear it!”
    “Whatever the case, Silverstar has already left. A messenger has gone to tell the priest what has happened. We will wait for word from him before deciding what to do about the boy. Until then, we can only keep searching for Toto in hopes that he was struck with a sudden urge to go hunting and will return of his own accord. I will send no one toward the mountains in the north, let alone you. Your plan has failed.”
    Ico felt something cold on his cheek and lifted his hand to touch it. For the first time, he realized he was crying.
    “I never thought to run from my responsibility.”
    The elder was silent.
    “Especially not since we went to the Forbidden Mountains, and I saw what lay beyond. My heart hasn’t wavered, not even for a moment. I couldn’t let something like that happen to Toksa, or to any place. If I can help stop that—if that’s my fate—then I accept it.”
    The elder stood as silent and still as an ancient tree. The only motion in the cave was Ico’s trembling lips and the teardrops that fell from his eyes.
    “It’s not a lie,” Ico said. “I haven’t lied to you. I could never send Toto into danger, even if I wanted to escape. I couldn’t.”
    The elder hung his head and spoke in a low, rough voice. “The old books tell us we must never trust our hearts to the Sacrifice. How I wish I had understood the meaning of those words before now.”
    With his long robes dragging across the dirt behind him, the elder walked unsteadily from the cave. Ico didn’t try to stop him. He sat there in silence, quietly sobbing.
    In the distance, the sound of the loom began.
    Mother—I want to see her. She’d understand how I feel. Like she always does. “I know, Ico,” she’d say. “Don’t cry.”
    Or maybe that, too, was only a dream. Maybe she would never be like that again. Maybe to accept his role as Sacrifice was to accept that the elder, and Oneh, and everyone else he knew would change forever.
    For the first time, the cruelty of it all sank inside his heart. Ico covered his face with both hands and wept out loud.
    Yeah, you’re a good horse, real good.
    Arrow Wind’s hooves skipped lightly over the stones, never flagging. The horse’s body was sleek and supple beneath Toto’s legs, his neck thick and strong, and his eyes alight with a black luster. Arrow Wind galloped onward, his chestnut mane whipping in the wind.
    Toto had never felt so alive in his life. He had always wanted to ride like this. He was having so much fun that he had almost forgotten where he was going and why he had snuck out of the village late in the night.
    By the time the dawn star shone in the sky, he had already reached the foothills of the mountains in the north. There, he stopped to give Arrow Wind a rest,