“Down in Secondel the Autochthons are marking every boat, be it never so small, that tries to pass south. And believe me, there is nothing they cannot see. They seek an older man and a younger woman traveling together, and speaking in the accents of Calla. As well, certain others matching the descriptions of Burr, Weaver, and Edda are being looked for. Our boat will be boarded and it will be searched. If either of you is found . . .”

Robst seemed to think it would be a waste of breath to finish the sentence. Even more annoying, Brindle appeared to take his meaning. “What?” Prim asked. “What will happen?”

“You have heard the stories,” Brindle said, “more are true than not. Fortunately Corvus foresaw this eventuality, and gave us a plan.”

Two days later, she found herself walking toward Secondel’s northern gate alone. She was on the mainland. Robst had dropped her off in a little cove a few miles to the north—as close as he could sail to Secondel without coming in view of one of its watchtowers, or the much higher vantage points of the Temple complex. The day before that, they’d deposited Brindle on Thunkmarch, which was the opposite shore. In ancient times Camp had been situated there, and so that stretch of its coast was still known as Campside.

The plan was simple enough in its general outlines. If Brindle and Prim stayed aboard Firkin, the Autochthons would see the boat, search it, and find them. So those two needed to find another way to get past Secondel. As soon as they got just a few miles south, Robst could pick them up again and they could resume their journey down toward the Last Bit. So, they would have to travel on foot. An older man and a younger woman, speaking in the accents of Calla, were just what the Autochthons were looking for, and so it wouldn’t do for them to walk together. The way through the city was safe in the sense that it was orderly. Many souls of all descriptions traversed it every day, for it was the only practical route down the west coast of the Land. The city was full of Beedles of course, but they were tame ones, perfectly under the thumb of the Autochthons. Campside, on the other hand, was infamously wild and lawless. Perhaps the powers that be in Secondel preferred it that way, as it prevented the founding of a rival city across the channel. Or perhaps the stories were true and the place had lain under a curse since the day Adam had been murdered there, and Eve and Thunk and Whirr and the others had forsaken it to follow the hill-giant up into what later became the Bits and Shivers. In any case it was where rogue Beedles escaped to when they had disappointed their masters. When they scuttled up onto that shore they found themselves in a maelstrom of Shiver pirates, bandits, wild souls, and even a few Autochthons who had forsaken El and gone over to seek their fortunes. Brindle knew a few people there and seemed to think he could manage a few miles’ hike south along Campside’s shore. But he thought it wiser for Prim to take a different way, direct through the city, so that no one would ever see the two of them together. The whole thing could be accomplished in a day. Brindle on the west shore and Prim on the east might have to cool their heels for a night as they waited for Robst to collect them, but the distance they had to cover simply was not that great.