The man escorted them to the first wagon, which was filled to the brim with supplies—supplies purchased in Dresberg, most likely. They were held back with lengths of rope, but there was a little space between the rope and the edge of the wagon for Sandis and Rone to sit. After giving her a hand up, Rone mumbled something about helping their new friends pack to earn their favor. Sandis pulled her knees up to her chest and pressed her back against the rope and the keg of ale behind it, making herself small, letting the shadow of the wagon wall hide her.
She breathed slowly, listening, trying to stretch her hearing beyond the caravans. Was Ravis still in the tower? Would the priests discover him? Would he hurt these kind people?
Had she made a mistake in coming here?
It took another twenty minutes for the pilgrims to finish loading the third wagon and settle into the second. Rone returned to her, sweat glistening below his hairline. He sat on the back of the wagon and leaned his head against a sack of something—maybe flour or sugar—and took a few deep breaths.
“They’re crazy,” he whispered, wiping his sleeve first across his eyes, then across his forehead. “They bought a statue of the freaking Celestial. A heavy one. But as soon as the guard passes through, we’ll be off.”
A jolt passed through Sandis. “Rone?”
He sighed. “Yeah?”
“Is . . . the guard checking for papers?”
His eyes came into focus. He looked at her for several seconds before saying, “You don’t have any.”
She shook her head and tried to keep her voice level. “Not anymore.” She couldn’t remember if she’d left them at the flat when she’d gone searching, again, for Anon, or if they’d been on her person and the slavers had taken them. Vanished, just like her records.
Like she didn’t exist.
Rone swore and looked behind him. The wagon was packed. Sandis started pressing against the odds and ends, hoping one would give or that she’d find a space she could crawl into to hide— She heard voices approach. The guards?
Rone grabbed her wrist and yanked her down. “Pretend like you’re asleep,” he hissed. Opening his bag, he grabbed a set of his undergarments and shoved them at her. “Put this under your shirt. Head on my lap. Hurry.”
She didn’t question him. Her shaking hands did as told. She wadded the clothing against her stomach and lay down with her head on Rone’s thigh, bending her knees to fit the space. She faced away from the wagon opening and closed her eyes. She clenched her jaw, then forced it to relax. Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
Rone smelled like rain.
“Name?” a low, masculine voice asked seconds later.
“Rone Comf.” Rone took his time rustling through his bag. Sandis heard the stir of papers.
A pause. “Comf?” Another pause. “Related?”
Sandis thought she felt Rone shrug before rummaging through his bag again. “Hold on—I swear I saw her put them in here. My wife, she’s been sick ever since we left the farm. Hoping the travel doesn’t jostle her too bad.”
His hand brushed her shoulder. Sandis dutifully played the ill, pregnant wife. It wasn’t the first time she’d pretended to be asleep to avoid unwanted attention.
The guard grunted. Papers shuffled—he must be handing them back to Rone. His steps faded away.
Rone said nothing. They held still for a long time, until the voice of the older traveler who had granted them passage said, “One of the priests is riding with us as far as the west side of the city to ensure we’re not bothered by bandits.”
Shortly afterward, the wagon lurched forward. Rone squeezed Sandis’s shoulder, and she sat up slowly. Rone met her eyes for a moment—the bright sun turning his irises a dark topaz. She had meant to say something, but she couldn’t remember her words right then.
Rone looked away first. “Glad that worked.”
“Thank you.” She pulled his clothes free and handed them back to him.
Rone’s mouth twisted. “Why is a priest riding with us? What’s he going to do, pray the grafters away?”
Sandis pursed her lips at the jab. Outside of the Angelic, the priests had been kind. They’d offered them board and food. They’d treated her like a real person, unaware of the sin that scarred her back with gold.
Despite all the weight pressing it down, the wagon rocked and shook, yet Sandis found the ride calming. The risen sun warmed the air and calmed her further. She didn’t see any grafters or suspicious people lurking around the Lily Tower once they came around it, following the great wall of the city west, so she let her legs dangle over the side of the wagon and watched puffs of dust spit up from the back wheels.
“If only it were so easy,” Rone said, more to himself than to her. He had one knee up, his elbow resting on it, and his brown eyes watched the distancing wall.
“What?”
“Leaving.” Rone scratched the side of his nose. “That’s what it feels like, doesn’t it? Like we’re just walking away from it all.”
Sandis furrowed her brow. “We are leaving, Rone.”
He shook his head. “Not the Lily Tower. Dresberg. Kolingrad. All of it.”
Ah, that was it. “You don’t like it here.”
His dark gaze dropped to her. “Do you?”
She shrugged. She’d like it more if life could return to how it used to be. If her family were still . . . If Kazen and the grafters didn’t exist. Family was what mattered, not place.
“You’re right.” He leaned his head against the rocking wall. “I hate it. I’ve looked into leaving before, but even my best jobs can’t get me past the border guard.”
Sandis frowned. Looked at the wagon behind them. The floor bucked beneath her as the wagon pulled onto the paved road leading out of the city. While everything was industry and cobblestones in Dresberg, there was so much space outside the city walls. The land stretched open and vast before them. Empty, or very nearly. Sandis marveled at it for a moment, fighting the urge to slip off the wagon and run ahead of the train. She hadn’t experienced such lack of confinement for a long time, if ever.
Her thoughts pulled back to Rone. Though it made her feel heavy to suggest it, Sandis said, “Maybe you could stay with them.”
Rone laughed. “With who?”
She cocked her head toward the second wagon. “With them. Wherever they’re going.”
Rone rolled his eyes. “If I’m going to be trapped in Kolingrad, I might as well find my work in Dresberg. I’m used to a certain lifestyle.” His countenance fell. “Besides, I wouldn’t leave my mother.”
Sandis pinched her lips together, considering the situation with Rone’s family. She could see how it pained him to be unwanted by one parent and fearful for the other. Sandis’s family—outside of Talbur Gwenwig—was dead, but at least they’d wanted her when they were alive.
“We’ll figure it out.” Sandis wasn’t sure if Rone heard her over the tumult of the wagons, so she gingerly placed her hand on his knee. He looked at her hand for a moment before shaking his head.
“Because this uncle of yours will magically be the savior we need.” His tone was sour and dark.
“I hope so.”
He glanced at her, a single eyebrow raised. “I don’t know if I should admire you for your hope, Sandis, or hate you for your na?veté.”
A loud snap sounded somewhere behind the second wagon, followed by a few shouts. The driver of the second wagon pulled his oxen to a halt, and within moments the driver of their wagon followed suit. The ale keg behind Sandis pressed against the ropes and against her, but the bindings held.
Rone stood immediately in the wagon bed, grabbing the wagon’s roof and looking over it. “What’s wrong?”
The driver passed by them, shaking his head in confusion. Voices began to sound one over another; Sandis couldn’t decipher them.
The driver came back. “Wheel on the rear wagon broke.” He kicked the road. “Damn. We have a spare, but we’ll be delayed.”
Sandis brushed dust from her face. “Do you need help?”
The driver waved her inquiry away and disappeared around the second wagon.
“Wonderful,” Rone grumbled.
Sandis peered toward the wall. They’d come decently far—she couldn’t see the Lily Tower anymore. They were somewhere along the northeastern portion of the great wall. The road branched off ahead of them, leading to one of the many tunnels that burrowed through the wall, granting entrance to the city.
It wasn’t hard to enter or leave Dresberg. Just the country itself.