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She pulled on her boots and slipped downstairs, sighing with relief when she saw the family of dryads had decided to break their fast before heading out on the road—she hadn’t missed them.

She and Asher sat at the neighboring table, eating their porridge and toast. Lore’s stomach roiled with nerves, but their next meal was uncertain, so she forced down every bite while listening to the merchant’s conversation.

“We should head to Dartmith’s Estate as soon as we finish eating. He’s expecting us to head out with the caravan immediately. As you know, there have been double the robberies and assaults in the last month.”

“I just can’t believe how dangerous it’s become on the road.”

Lore took another bite, keeping the merchants in her vision. Thus, she was able to see the moment the wife noticed them.

Just as she’d hoped.

Lore knew what the wife was seeing: Asher, wearing a black long-sleeved tunic, buttoned up to his throat. His hair was pulled up into a loose topknot that allowed a few curly tendrils to escape and frame his pointed ears. Beside him sat a new jacket with his new swords resting on top of it—although they were not quite as sharp as his two army-issued swords, they looked impressive.

She spared a moment to wonder how the sale of his swords had gone. They both knew he couldn’t carry his old ones aroundanymore, lest he be identified as a defector immediately. She wondered how much he’d gotten for them and his uniform, realizing it was likely treason to sell them. She hoped the person he’d sold them to was discreet and paid well.

Lore fingered the lace collar that she’d buttoned all the way up to her throat. The tunic she now wore was a lovely shade of purple. She hoped they looked the part—that of a clean, well-off couple, who looked strong and capable of protecting a certain merchant and their family, rather than exactly what they were. A pair of fugitives on the run.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Asher stood, pushing away from the table. They both pretended not to be listening to the whispering couple next to them, but Lore had to hide her squeal of excitement when she heard the husband call out.

His voice was low and gruff. “Excuse me, sir. Madam.”

They both turned to the merchant family, pleasant smiles on their faces.

“Excuse me,” the man continued, once he had their attention. “I wouldn’t want to intrude but, might you be looking for a temporary venture? We are traveling with some wares and we are looking to hire a personal guard. Short term. Just for our next journey.”

His wife spoke up. “Yes, and we noticed that you two were traveling as well. Might you travel with us? We can pay, of course, and provide an evening meal.”

Lore and Asher looked at each other, pretending to consider it. Asher replied, “When are you leaving and which way are you heading? We are due in Camella in two days’ time.”

“Oh, perfect! Yes, we are heading to Lolabrock, so it won’t be out of your way at all. We’re leaving in a moment, isn’t that right, dear?” The dryad looked to her husband.

“That’s right. What do you say?”

Asher grinned. “Well, if we are heading the same way, then Isurely couldn’t let you travel this road alone. We shall meet you out front in a few moments. My wife and I just need to grab our things.”

With a slight bow of their heads, they took their leave upstairs.

Lore waited until they were in their room, door firmly shut, before exclaiming, “I can’t believe it worked!”

Chapter13

As soon as they made it through the city gates and left behind the majority of the traffic, Lore felt as if a weight had lifted from her chest. The guards, who had been stopping and questioning almost everyone traveling, hadn’t even looked at the merchants. With their gorgeous carriage and fine clothes, they had been waved through without a second glance.

Now Lore sat on the back of the wagon, feet dangling off the edge, studying her book. It was a beautiful day: sunny and with a light breeze. The forest thinned along the southern road, and they’d begun passing farms and orchards. She couldn’t believe the size of the land these farmers owned. As far as she could see were rows of trees, oblivious to the season, heavy with fruit.

She wanted to fill wagons to the brim and bring them to her people.

Lore turned back to the book. She’d kept quiet since the merchants had asked about her odd accent. She had quickly spun a lie about being raised by an aunt from a faraway city she remembered seeing in one of the tomes at the library.

The children were asleep in the carriage and Asher was riding up front with the merchant, taking his turn at the reins.

Lore ran her fingers down the pages, which were still blank.The voices didn’t speak to her and didn’t explain what that strange light or power had been.

She closed the book with a sigh, tucking it back into her sack.

She’d try again tonight.