Yet somewhere at the back of his mind, there was a new comprehension dawning. Rafe had no concept of what Hope had done, but this new expansion of his mind, the fresh revelations seemingly being laid out again and again for his perusal, seemed to offer understanding. He had only to realize how to read it.

They found a place sheltered from the north by a jagged slope of rock. Hope set about making a fire, silent and slow.

“Won’t the Monks see the fire?” Rafe asked.

“It’s a risk if they’re following us this way. But there are other things out there in the night, just as dangerous, that the fire will keep away.”

“Must we camp? Can’t we keep moving?”

Hope shook her head, and Rafe realized for the first time just how old and tired she looked. Perhaps up until now excitement had kept her young, the childlike gleam in her eyes whenever she looked at him emphasized by the eager shapes the tattoos seemed to etch across her face. But now, with darkness blanking the tattoos and the gleam in her eyes a pale reflection of the death moon, she looked so worn.

She said nothing more, and Rafe entrusted himself to her wisdom. She had yet to let him down.

With the fire built, Hope quickly fell into a deep sleep. Rafe sat up, huddled under a blanket the farmers had given them along with the saddles, staring up at the moons and stars. Wondering, as he had as a boy in Trengborne, just who or what else in Noreela was looking at this sight right now.

WHEN THEY WERE near enough to see what the firelight revealed, Trey and Alishia stopped.

Alishia could make out two people, one asleep, the other awake. Two horses as well, hidden back in the shadows of the rock slope, snorting in disturbed sleep. She drew Trey close, catching the hint of fledge on his breath. “Two people,” she whispered into his ear.

He nodded. “I know. One is asleep and dreaming dreams I don’t wish to visit again. The other is . . . strange. There’s much more than a mind there, and I can’t touch it.”

“Are they safe?”

Trey shrugged. “How should I know how you topsiders are supposed to think? The one sleeping, she’s frightened and excited at the same time. And I think she’s mad. I’ll not look again.”

“And that one sitting there?”