“True.” Beq looked at her, a little shyly. “Thanks. Can you tell this is my first time out of the Forge?”

“Um. A little.” Maya patted her shoulder. “You’re doing well, considering.”

“You seem like you know your way around the woods.”

“My mentor and I spent a lot of time traveling,” Maya said. “You get used to it.”

“I hope so.” Beq shifted her pack again. “This thing is already killing me.”

Maya had to admit that she was with Beq on that one. Jaedia had typically traveled with a cart for the heavy gear. Back at the quartermasters’, Maya had eyed the list Varo had come up with and thought it was a bit scanty; now every jounce of her pack made her wonder if she really needed spare underwear.

They all had good cause to be grateful for the scout’s expertise. Maya might have more experience in the woods than Beq, but Jaedia had usually stuck to the roads, so she wasn’t much good at finding her way. Tanax was obviously no help, so they relied on Varo to lead, down the shallow-sided valley and over the occasional rocky outcrop. Like many Gates, the one they’d emerged from was in rough country, and the Order preferred not to call attention to their precise locations by constructing roads or trails. Sensible, but awkward.

They lunched by a broad pool, aching legs and backs grateful for the rest, even if the hard-traveling food Varo had requisitioned was nothing much to look forward to. The water was delicious and tooth-achingly cold, at least, utterly refreshing after the heat of the morning. Beq ducked her whole head under and came up gasping, coiling her wet braid over one shoulder.

“Had a friend who liked to do that,” Varo said. “One time there was a big river crocodile waiting for him. I swear that thing had followed us for kilometers.”

Tanax snorted derisively, sitting in the shade of a boulder some distance from the rest of them.

“He didn’t talk as much after losing his head,” Varo said, “but we all agreed it improved his temper.”

“I think we’re a little far north for crocodiles,” Maya said, trying hard to ignore how the water that soaked Beq’s shirt made it cling in exciting ways. “But we should get moving.”