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After camping in the forest just south of Mabelton overnight, the second leg of their journey began early the next day. The three carriages rode through town while the rest of the rebellion avoided it.
The majority continued north on foot, protected under a canopy of trees, while some families chose to stay in Mabelton, unwilling to travel farther, or take part in battle.
Thessa couldn’t blame them. Soren hadn’t either.
Through the window, she eyed the bay until it was out of sight. Not far past it was her favorite tea shop and the library where everything began.
“There’ll be a time when you can enjoy it again.”
“Are you listening to my thoughts?”
“I don’t have to.”
How long had she been staring out this window longing for a slice of normalcy? She sighed. “This better work.”
Soren gave her an indiscernible look.
“Once we make it to Gravenport, how will the rest of camp know where to find us?” she asked.
“I’ll send two of the drivers on horseback, they’ll find them.”
“But this is different. They’ll be farther north than ever before.”
“We’ve moved as a group hundreds of times, we’ll track them.”
“There’s children, Soren,” she reminded him.
“And I’ll do my best to protect them. We all will.”
Thessa shook her head. War was brewing in a cauldron she held the spoon to.
A few hourslater the carriages arrived at the border between the southern and northern territories.
Thessa wasn’t expecting to get harassed. Every other crossing had been as simple as the driver stating their comings and goings.
Thankfully, all the drivers Soren had assigned were Elementals. There’d be no other shadow-wielders crossing the formal border. The woods would protect them—as they had for centuries.
Soren shot off his bench faster than lightning.
Thessa groaned, “Sit down. You think they don’t have an illustration of your face by now?”
His nostrils flared. “I can’t just sit here. They’re ransacking my carriage.”
“I’ll deal with this.”
Thessa slammed the door shut behind her and stomped over to the first carriage. The corner of her eye caught Hades, who had her ears pricked back.
Canvas, poles, and cloth were flung in every direction. To her credit, the driver of the first carriage remained calm.
Approaching the mess, Thessa spat, “You can’t do this.”
“Excuse me?” A soldier, wrapped in a scarlet bow, whipped her head to face her.
“Says who, exactly?” Another guard stepped up, glaring at her like she was dirt. This one had a chin as pointy as her red-painted fingernails, with black, beady eyes.
“You’ll damage my tents before the festival even begins,” Thessa proclaimed with a face the portrait of innocence.
The guard tossing canvas paused. “What festival? And where’s your cloak?”