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I bowed my head to Ora. “Thank you for this delicious meal... and all of your kindness.”
Ora bowed. “It’s a pleasure, Calla.”
They said it with genuine warmth . . . and it still befuddled me. Why would anyone be nice to me when I had nothing to givethem in return? Surely humans weren’t this kind to strangers. Unless they had some sort of ulterior motives . . .
I would keep my guard up, just in case.
I followed Malou toward the back of the wagon. Twisting down the narrow corridor, I had to shuffle sideways to fit. She reached a low cabinet door and opened it, revealing a hole with a ladder.
I gaped. “What in the Gods’ names?”
“There’s a water basin that sits under the firebox. It keeps the water warm for a little while after dinner. If you go now, it’ll be lovely,” she said. “There’s soap and towels down there already. You’ll have to duck down. It’s pretty crammed, but it’s something.”
“It’s amazing,” I whispered again. I reached up to my bunk above and grabbed out my spare chemise.
She gave me a wink as I slid feet first into the hole and down the little ladder. I crouched into a squat, waddling forward off the landing and onto an open grate. Cold air rushed up through the floor as the heat from the metal box above my head radiated downward. I watched the road whizzing by between the slats in the metal. Beyond the grating were rows and rows of wooden dowels, washed clothing hanging on them.
They made use of every inch of Galen den’ Mora. Built along the wall were baskets of soap and hand cloths. I picked up the first square of soap and smelled it—citrusy and fresh.
The wagon rocked and I tipped forward onto my knees, laughing despite myself. How did they not topple over all the time? What had Ora called them?
Ah, yes: sea legs.
I hung my clean chemise on a hook by the footwell and disrobed. Leaving my dirty clothes below me, I turned the little spigot above and warm water sprayed out. The fine misting was perfect, just enough to wash without wasting the entire basin in one go. I selected a cloth and scrubbed myself clean, rivers of brown water and dried blood tracing down my bare skin. I rakedmy fingers through my hair and squeezed the dirty water out of my clothes.
As the warmth washed over me, that tight knot in my chest eased, giving way once more to sorrow. The quiet moments were the hardest. When I was safe, warm, and fed, I couldn’t ignore what had happened. I had abandoned my pack, mymate, in order to save my sister. I had thought I knew loneliness before, but I had no clue. It felt like my soul was bursting out, desperately trying to pull that feeling back into me, and I knew I couldn’t go on this way.
I scuttled back to my bunk, deflated, murmuring a quick goodnight out to the wagon before climbing onto the thin mattress. The bunks weren’t stacked one on top of the other, but rather scattered throughout the wagon, creating little nooks. Mina slept between two shelves of books and folders of sheet music. Malou slept above her to the right, where another bunk notched above storage cupboards. Each one had a thick velvet curtain that pulled across to give the sleeper privacy.
Soft candlelight peeked in as I stroked my hand down the curtain. The sheets were smooth, the pillow soft, and I thanked the Gods I was exhausted enough to be given a reprieve from my churning thoughts.
I closed my eyes, thinking of what badge I would want to hang on the ribbons above the dining table. My gut clenched, thinking of what they had said, because I couldn’t even pick a color, let alone an object that symbolized me—mostly because I didn’t know any of those things about myself. Briar would have a badge in mind in a heartbeat, but me? How do you depict a shadow? Would they even let someone have a blank black badge? Besides, if they knew what I truly was, they’d kick me out, or worse. No, there’d be no badges, no memory of me. I’d travel with them to Olmdere and then become a shadow once more.
Sixteen
The seasons seemed to change over the next two days—summer fading into blustering winter. Higher and higher the wagon crept into the Stormcrest Mountains, crossing the border into Taigos. We slowed to a stop in Nesra’s Pass and I finally got to step out of the wagon for the first time in days. This was it. Once we got through this narrow mountain pass, the vastness of Taigos would swallow us up, making tracking me nearly impossible.
I followed the twins and Ora down the ladder and onto the bare road. Wind whipped my hair across my face, the air smelling of impending snowfall. I stared out over the rolling pine forests far below. Down there it was still summer, but in Taigos, the land was blanketed in perpetual snow. My legs wobbled beneath me for a moment, unused to the solid ground. The wagon nestled against one side of the road, finding a break from the squalls.
Nesra’s Pass appeared more of an outpost than a true village. No taverns or inns, only three buildings lined either side of the gray gravel road. Behind each row of buildings, cliffs shot up into the clouds. The town cut through the mountainside, the road a steep ascent into the ranges.
I’d always wondered what the Ice Wolves of Taigos looked like. If Vellia’s paintings were to be believed, they were pure white.Olmdere’s neighboring pack to the south, their kingdom was hidden above the clouds and under the snow and ice. I craned my neck up toward the thick blanket of gray and shuddered. What cities lay hidden in the murky skies?
“Here,” Ora said, offering me a woolen blanket. They pulled their shawl tighter around their lean shoulders. “We won’t be doing much camping in Taigos.” They huffed. “But if the weather’s fair in Olmdere, we can set up our tents or sleep under the stars. It’s nice to get out of that wagon every now and again.”
Navin turned the corner, leading by the halter two creatures I’d never seen before.
“What is that?”
They were bigger than a normal ox, taller than a horse, with shaggy copper red hair and curling horns.
“You’ve never seen Taigosi oxen?” Navin grinned, stroking a hand down the beast who stood shoulder height to him. The oxen seemed built of solid muscle, slow but strong, perfect for hauling the monstrous wagon. “They’re harmless.”
Navin was a lanky man with short twists of black hair and long, slender fingers that looked perfectly designed for plucking strings. He wore a blue velvet vest with a mishmash of different buttons and a flowing white shirt with ballooning sleeves. I looked from Navin to Ora to the twins. Not one of them dressed like I’d ever seen before, with faint nods to the different kingdoms, but unplaceable by attire alone.
“This is Opus.” Ora patted Opus’s flank. “And that one’s Magnum.”
“Very clever,” I said.
