Baby gurgles on the milk, drinking too quickly, and I pull the pot back to give her a chance to breathe. “Why are you helping me suddenly?”

“I was always helping you. At West Tower, the moment I knew it was you, I tried to help. And what I said earlier . . . It was only because Bain and Cree were listening.”

The quiet holds between us. His eyes gleam in the weak moonlight.

“They came for me at Dead River,” I blurt out.

Fear washes over him. “And you got away?”

“I was at Zuly’s.”

“The others?”

“Old Fang, Astra, and Cobel were murdered. They took the rest. You know where they took them, don’t you?”

He shakes his head and looks away—at the stars, the horizon, anything but me.

“Asher, where did they take them?”

“You can’t go there.”

“Who did it?” My voice cracks. “Who took them, and where are they going?”

“It’s a dead end. One way in, no way out. He controls everything. Let them go, Delta. Get sold in the Barrel, break loose, and find me at the Vulture’s Roost. I’m going to Powder Town. It’s the last free place in the wastes.”

“Let them go?” I stare at him, my stomach churning. The Asher I knew would never give that advice. “Just leave them? They’re my pack!”

“You don’t understand what it’s like there, Delta.”

“I would if you’d tell me!”

“You can’t do anything for them without damning yourself.”

There’s a muffle in the distance as Bain and Cree come into view. Asher steps away from the wagon.

“Ready to move?” Bain calls. Asher turns to me and holds out a hand, waiting for the now empty feeding pot. I feel like cracking it against the wagon, but I pass it through the bars. He might be trying to protect me, but all he’s doing is sending me forward blind and uninformed.

He slides a clean rag between the bars for Baby. “What’s her name?”

“Ba—” Suddenly I don’t want to admit that I haven’t named my own niece. “Bay,” I amend.

“And if she’s not yours . . .”

“Indie’s. She died during the birthing.”

He frowns, eyes cutting into me, and I feel like he’s saying something else in the silence that stretches between us, something I can’t hear.

The wagon lurches as Bain and Cree lean into the yoke, and Asher falls into step. He says nothing else, but steals a glance my way now and then. I burp Bay over my shoulder as we rock eastward, wishing I could hear all the things he refuses to speak.