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“I have, sometimes. Usually, he decides doing nothing is best.” When she lifted her face to Ava’s, Ava could see the glisten of tears.

She put out a hand, and Melodie set her own—small, a little sweaty, and smudged with dust—into it. Ava squeezed.

“Then you need to ask him why he decided to do that. You need to talk to him about how it makes you sad and why. Is it because you feel the person is in serious danger because of what you see? Is something evil being done to them? Or is it something they may not realize is harming them?”

“You speak to him.” Melodie pulled her hand away and stood. “I don’t know how to tell him right. It gets mixed up, and he just frowns and says no.”

“I will try.” Ava knew how it was to grow up with a gift that was suppressed. “But I need to grow a little stronger, first. So he’ll listen to me.”

Melodie watched her, and then gave a slow nod. “But you will?”

“I will.”

She caught sight of movement between the carts, and scraped the last stew from her bowl.

“We need to move.” Evelyn appeared, looking mean and unhappy.

Ava sighed inside. Sirna and his lover were growing less and less willing to tolerate each other.

They were supposed to be traveling across Venyatu, going home to Cattha. Not headed for Grimwalt with a prisoner.

It was grating on them both.

She gave a nod, uncurling slowly from her seat. She found her back was stiff, and she groaned as she tried to straighten up.

“Your father’s looking for you, brat.” Evelyn flicked her fingers at Melodie, and with a fulminating look, Melodie turned and skipped away.

“What were you talking about?” Evelyn lowered her voice to a hiss.

“She gave me lunch.” Ava kept her words slow, her face confused. She held out the empty bowl. “Do you know where her mother is?”

Evelyn snatched the bowl from her fingers. “Dead. Died in childbirth, if that crone Croter is right.” She started back. “Move it, or we’ll leave without you.”

Ava finally managed to stand completely straight, and bent back a little, easing her muscles. She smiled up at the sky as she did.

It was blue and clear.

Never make a threat you don’t intend to carry out, her father had always said.

There was no way Sirna was leaving her behind.

She was the ticket to payment at the border.

She kept her pace slow and halting as she moved toward the carts. Evelyn had gone ahead, and she was leaning against Madame Croter’s caravan, talking to the old woman, when Ava stepped out of the woods. She turned and sent Ava a smirk before she sauntered off.

The small fire that had been lit to warm their lunch had been extinguished, and final items were being packed away.

“Why don’t you come sit with me, Blackie and Melodie, my dear?” Madame Croter patted the driver’ bench of her cart. It was painted a bright red, like her door, and her massive black hen sat fluffed up next to her.

Ava nodded, letting her general vagueness work in her favor.

As she clambered up onto the seat beside the old Grimwaldian, Sirna noticed her.

“Hey!” His face darkened.

“Evelyn said she’d like to ride beside you and enjoy what little sun we have,” Madame Croter said. “Plenty of room for Avasu here on the bench with me and Blackie. And Melodie is keeping us company, too.”

Sirna couldn’t hide his surprise. For the first time since Ava had met him, he seemed unsure. She could almost see the cogs in his head turning as he realized Evelyn had gone around him to arrange this. After being so insistent on riding in the back of the cart, now she wanted to sit in the sunshine up front, but didn’t want Ava in the back, either.