Chapter 43

43

LECTURE NOTES FROM ANIMAL HUSBANDRY:

Horses require a substantial amount of feed and water. The addition of oats to their diet will keep them full, while salt blocks ensure they stay hydrated.

H ooves clopping on cobblestones chimed in her ears.

After camping in the forest just south of Mabelton overnight, the second leg of their journey began early the next day. The three carriages rode through town while the rest of the rebellion avoided it.

The majority continued north on foot, protected under a canopy of trees, while some families chose to stay in Mabelton, unwilling to travel farther, or take part in battle.

Thessa couldn’t blame them. Soren hadn’t either.

Through the window, she eyed the bay until it was out of sight. Not far past it was her favorite tea shop and the library where everything began.

“There’ll be a time when you can enjoy it again. ”

“Are you listening to my thoughts?”

“I don’t have to.”

How long had she been staring out this window longing for a slice of normalcy? She sighed. “This better work.”

Soren gave her an indiscernible look.

“Once we make it to Gravenport, how will the rest of camp know where to find us?” she asked.

“I’ll send two of the drivers on horseback, they’ll find them.”

“But this is different. They’ll be farther north than ever before.”

“We’ve moved as a group hundreds of times, we’ll track them.”

“There’s children, Soren,” she reminded him.

“And I’ll do my best to protect them. We all will.”

Thessa shook her head. War was brewing in a cauldron she held the spoon to.

A few hours later the carriages arrived at the border between the southern and northern territories.

Thessa wasn’t expecting to get harassed. Every other crossing had been as simple as the driver stating their comings and goings.

Thankfully, all the drivers Soren had assigned were Elementals. There’d be no other shadow-wielders crossing the formal border. The woods would protect them—as they had for centuries.

Soren shot off his bench faster than lightning.

Thessa groaned, “Sit down. You think they don’t have an illustration of your face by now? ”

His nostrils flared. “I can’t just sit here. They’re ransacking my carriage.”

“I’ll deal with this.”

Thessa slammed the door shut behind her and stomped over to the first carriage. The corner of her eye caught Hades, who had her ears pricked back.

Canvas, poles, and cloth were flung in every direction. To her credit, the driver of the first carriage remained calm.

Approaching the mess, Thessa spat, “You can’t do this.”

“Excuse me?” A soldier, wrapped in a scarlet bow, whipped her head to face her.

“Says who, exactly?” Another guard stepped up, glaring at her like she was dirt. This one had a chin as pointy as her red-painted fingernails, with black, beady eyes.

“You’ll damage my tents before the festival even begins,” Thessa proclaimed with a face the portrait of innocence.

The guard tossing canvas paused. “What festival? And where’s your cloak?”

“Southerners,” the other guard sneered. “No respect.”

“The festival that my tents were ordered for, in Greenshire. How will I make it in time if I’m here cleaning up your mess? And why would I wear that thick thing in this weather?”

One guard asked, “All these carriages contain festival materials?”

“Tents, dinnerware. Precisely,” Thessa answered.

Both guards stepped back. “Then you wouldn’t mind if we checked?”

“Well, we don’t need your permission, now do we?” The second guard snickered.

As they approached carriage number two, the driver eyed Thessa warily. Unlike the first driver, this one was visibly shaking. Swallowing the lump in her throat she formed what she hoped was a reassuring look on her face.

Thessa joined the soldiers amidst their sloppy inspection. “See anything of interest?” she asked, poking her head in between them. “Oh, please do be careful with those ewers. The porcelain was imported from Sanabria.”

Both guards ordered her to step back.

Thessa complied, knowing better than to push them too far. After they’d made a decent mess, they moved to the final carriage—her carriage.

Ignoring the pulse bounding beneath her skin, Thessa managed a flat smile.

On their pursuit, the first guard asked, “Where’d you say you were headed?”

“Greenshire.”

“Specifically?”

“T-three miles west of the Anderan River.” She’d stuttered and they heard it. “We better be going. Thanks for your blessed service.” Thessa signaled the drivers to reboard.

The beady-eyed guard sneered, “Not until you tell us what’s hiding in this carriage. Or should we find out for ourselves?”

No.

Thessa wanted to scream it.

They’re coming.

In a panic, Thessa blocked their path.

The guards tossed their flames in the sky, warning her.

But their magic flickered to nothing as the air was choked from their lungs. Serpents had snuck up behind them, slithering up and around their necks.Just before they collapsed, clawing at their throats, Soren opened the carriage door. “They were awful anyway.”

She sighed, stepping over the struggling soldiers and into the carriage. Soren ordered the drivers to take care of the rest before slamming the door shut.

Thessa sighed. She was falling in love with a monster. “We won’t win the Troika’s favor if you keep killing their soldiers before we attempt a truce.”

“They’ve taken everything from me. They won’t take you too.”

She crossed her arms. “Spare me. If they thought there were whispers of a rebellion, consider this shouting.”

“Oh, it’s about time we shouted.”

Thessa went silent, focusing on the shapes woven into the window covering instead.A few lavender-infused inhales later, the carriages were moving again.

“And the horses?” she asked.

“We’ll let them rest somewhere more secluded.”

“Good.”

Grabbing her dagger and the bag of supplies someone packed for them, she began gathering everything she needed.

“What are you doing?” he questioned.

She ignored him, slicing the blade across her palm.