The White Sheep's Disguise ✓

Chapter 32

Reaching the bridge that separates the Grave from the capital takes two days. The trail curving through dense trees was nearly void of travelers heading in either direction, with the exception of scouts and ordinary merchants that braved Rootbeak Wastes to cross the bridge.

Arraying shades of browns, oranges, and reds from the autumn shifting trees filled the majority of my vision over these last two days. The ruddy brown bark of both red and sugar maple trunks blended in with the nourished soil the roots grow from, mingling with the angelic aspen and thick branches of sassafras. The fallen leaves cast a blanket of autumn hues over the trail, crushed by the metal rim of carriage wheels or stomped on by a careless horse. Over the course of those two days, I breathed in enough of the shift in weather as I could.

The dalea purpurea proved to be a favorite of Gav's. They brushed together underneath the cover of tree branches in their final days before winter plummets from night to day. Deer stomped through fescue and crushed the streams of asclepias tuberosa swimming alongside the empty trails.

We passed small farms and a sheepherder, stopped at a fruit stand for fresh apples and peaches, and slept amongst the stars. I didn't allow myself to think about much else other than Rootbeak Wastes, but every so often, the thought of leaving my family behind crept back into my skull. I slept next to Keaya both nights, and she didn't speak much, so I was left to my own thoughts unless I wished to hear another of Gav's stories about another favorite restaurant in the capital or in a strange village I've never heard of.

Nothing from Gudgeon Village, at least not yet.

The howling wolves and yipping coyotes reminded me there are more horrors than what hides in Rootbeak Wastes. I forced myself to remain calm as they approached closer and closer, but the night watch didn't seem to mind their impending threat of slaughter. So I slept, my back pressed against Keaya's, and woke both mornings with an ache in my spine that worsened once I hoisted myself back into Pip's saddle.

Cloak sleeps on his own, without the cover of a blanket or a secure pillow. He rolls an empty satchel into a ball and tucks his arm underneath his head, sharing a moment with the black sky before his eyes tire from staring too long at what won't move until the sun rises. Across the corps, it seems to be common knowledge that he sleeps by himself, and even Keaya distances herself from the one person she's supposed to shield while he's away from the capital and escaped from underneath his mother's punitive watch. As if he ever thought of the many guards being useful to his protection.

Aela has behaved less than pleasant. Every chance she gets, she snaps at one of Cloak's men, reminding them that they're doing a certain task wrong. She shoves them into the streams when they bend down to scrub at their dirt-stained faces, and forces Gav to stop talking after another story turns too lengthy for her liking.

Steam has billowed from Keaya's reddish ears more than once.

Her only mercy is leaving Cloak alone, and for the most part—me. I catch her staring at me from time to time, or leaning in to whisper to a member of the Panjandrum Corps, all the while staring at me. Keaya tells me it's no big deal, but I beg to differ. She wants to get underneath my skin and see just how dangerous I can become.

In the late evening of the third day, we crest a small hill that drops into the valley below. Instead of trees and wildlife, we're greeted by the longest bridge I've ever seen. The end disappears into the distance, and the stone pillars fade into the dark water's surface. The entire bridge is crafted of stone, forced together by magic and the Void Queen's doing.

This bridge will take at least a day to cross.

Aela stops her stallion next to Pip and leans over. "I hope you know how to swim," she whispers, cackling under her breath.