Chane stared into the dark corner of the room. It was obvious his addled mind was not on Magiere's safety but rather on Wynn.

Getting out of the city gates wasn't as difficult as Magiere had expected.

She paid the stable bill for Port and Imp, packed their belongings in the wagon, and everyone climbed in. With their hoods up, almost no one gave them notice on the night streets. A small band of soldiers tried to question them, but Baron Milea pulled his hood back and ordered them off. The sergeant in charge nodded respectfully and waved his men out of their way.

Their first stop was the Bronze Bell. Emel went up to his room while Magiere took everyone else to wait with the wagon at a nearby stable. She was slightly surprised when he returned with a chest and several canvas sacks of soft goods.

He'd gathered all of his belongings.

The bleary-eyed stable master brought out the baron's horse and a second mount with a lady's flat saddle, likely intended for Hedi Progae. There was no sign of personal guards or retainers.

This confirmed Magiere's guess. Emel planned to take his consort and run, likely for the Stravinan border. For all the worthless elites she'd met it was strange in this fear-filled land to see a nobleman ready to abandon his way of life for someone else.

Emel gathered canvas tarps and loaded them in the wagon's back. He looked up at Magiere.

"Soldiers at the city gate are looking for a dark-skinned man with white-blond hair." Emel didn't look at Leesil, but a grimace of distaste crossed his features. "And now they will be on watch for a black-haired woman with a wolf. Some may know Byrd. I will ride up front with you, but the others must hide in the back."

He held out a wool dress, and Magiere stared at it.

"Hedi is smaller than you, but you should still fit into this," Emel added. "At least enough to pass with your cloak over it. The gate watch will hesitate to question a noble escorting a lovely woman out of the city."

Leesil nearly hissed. "It pays to be among Darmouth's favored, doesn't it?"

"Better than doing his dirty work," Emel returned with equal venom.

Leesil sat up but only returned Emel's glare.

"That's enough from both of you," Byrd snapped. "Magiere, put on the dress, and Leesil, you keep quiet."

Magiere wasn't certain how much the baron knew of Leesil's past. If Emel had been a member of Darmouth's inner circle in Leesil's youth, he would certainly have his suspicions concerning Gavril and Nein'a, and thereby their son.

She unbuckled her sword and laid it under the wagon's bench, then took the dress from Emel, not caring for how all this was playing out. Since the moment Wynn had been captured, Magiere had felt out of control. Leesil hadn't been himself since entering the Warlands, and pain emanated from him no matter how silent and cold he might act. Now they trusted their lives and Wynn's to one of Darmouth's inner circle and a two-faced spy with a soft spot for cats.

"Aren't you bringing your men?" Byrd asked Emel. "The gate guards might find it odd, your leaving without an escort."

"Involving my men would make things too political," Emel answered. "A lone noble with a woman only gives the guards something to snicker about. They will assume I'm returning later, but Hedi is all that matters to me now.'

Magiere climbed down and walked into the stable's back stall. She tried to slip the dress over her clothes. It caught on the hauberk, so she removed that and tried again. The dress was too tight. She took off her wool pullover, then had to remove the shirt as well. Glancing nervously over the stall's partition, she shivered in the cold air. She pulled the dress over her head, leaving her breeches and boots on. The dress was too short and barely closed in front, but with her cloak on and perhaps a blanket over her legs, it might do.

When she returned and stuffed her clothes behind the bench, she pulled a blanket out and placed it on the seat. Leesil, Byrd, and Chap concealed themselves beneath a canvas tarp in the wagon's back. Emel shifted his sacks toward the rear, giving the illusion that the wagon was merely packed with stores.

"I hate this," Leesil whispered from beneath the tarp. "I'm sick of hiding."

"We don't have a choice," Magiere murmured back, and climbed onto the bench next to Emel. "Now, for the last time, be quiet!'

She draped the blanket over her legs, hiding the short skirt. Emel took the reins and steered them into the open street. They followed the main way through Venjetz.

As they left the upper-class district, Magiere looked back to be sure Leesil remained covered. A spark of light glinted from somewhere to her left, and she twisted around.

Magiere looked at the buildings as the wagon continued on its way. Perhaps she'd only seen the light of the sparse street lanterns reflecting off something. A glass window?

Another quick glint came from farther behind on her left.

"Stop the wagon," she whispered.

Emel pulled up. "What is it?"

She peered along the row of buildings-a narrow two-story inn, two smaller structures she couldn't name, and then a tanner's shop. All appeared quiet and dark. She felt foolish that her nerves had gotten the best of her.

"It's nothing," she said. "Move on."

Emel glanced back once with a frown, examining the street, then flicked the reins.

When they finally approached the main gates, none of the soldiers even questioned Emel as he ordered them to open up. One in a well-worn chain vest over quilted padding gave Magiere a long glance. His eyes drifted downward from her face, and he turned away with an amused smile and a shake of his head. She breathed a sigh of relief as they left Venjetz behind.

Emel clucked to Port and Imp and turned them onto the main road. Magiere kept her eyes forward, not caring to see the rotting decorations upon the wall's outer iron spikes. It was bad enough that she smelled a thin stench and heard the low metal creak of a crow's cage swinging slightly in the low breeze.

The forest thickened around them as the city fell farther behind. The near-full moon shed some light on the open road. Frozen mud ruts made the wagon lurch and jerk too often. Magiere stayed quiet, finally risking a glance back to see that the city walls had disappeared behind them.

"Where to?" she asked.

"This road heads west into the foothills," Emel answered. "We'll stop soon, and go on foot through the forest back to the lake."

"Can the cargo get up now?" asked Byrd, voice muffled beneath the tarp.

"Yes," Magiere answered. "I doubt anyone travels the roads on so cold a night."

Thrashing in the wagon's bed made her look back. Byrd, Chap, and Leesil shoved blankets, tarps, and other covering aside. Byrd rose up on one knee, looking into the forest.

"We're close enough," he said, and pointed toward a spot ahead. "Hide the wagon and horses there."

Emel steered the wagon in between two trees to a small brush-filled clearing. Everyone climbed out, and Leesil gathered blankets from the back. He held one up, and Magiere changed clothes in moderate privacy. Once she had the dress off and her shirt on, he strapped on his blades and lashed his toolbox to his back with a length of rope.

Magiere buckled down her hauberk. Leesil handed their two lanterns to Emel and Byrd. He looked more like himself, now that he had something to act upon. He handed her a sheathed dagger, which she tucked into her belt. As soon as all were ready, Byrd led the way deeper into the forest.

It was a short walk before they emerged to moonlight shimmering upon the lake. Across the water was the black silhouette of the keep, its towers' crowns marked by the red-orange glow of their top braziers. Chap began sniffing the shore.

"It is a sound design," Emel said. "Anyone approaching across the water would be picked off by archers, and the city itself makes for a difficult frontal assault. Either way, the keep is out of the reach of most siege engines.