She’d wanted to take the train directly to Lanos City, but Malachi had suggested they conserve their limited funds and travel by public coach. They’d counted on the resources and protection of Dante and his garrison for the trek to Bellaqua; now they had little but the clothes on their backs, a few coins, and one misshapen loaf of bread, left from the trade with the men on the boat. Nomi wasn’t sure whether she should stay with her family in Lanos, push them to escape to Azura with her, or travel to Bellaqua with Malachi. Much would depend on whether her parents had heard from Renzo and knew where he was.

The rest depended on her courage.

The carriage moved as slowly as a pour of molasses. It stopped often. The family disembarked, and two big, loud, smoke-soaked men stepped on. Then another family, with two small sons. After the stop at Vesta, for a brief time the carriage was empty save for Nomi and Malachi.

She relaxed enough to catch her breath, but it was almost dark and they still had another two hours to Lanos City. Two hours to wonder and worry. Maybe Malachi really was sleeping. He didn’t tip his hat back or try to speak to her.

So her mind filled the silence, reliving every minute that had passed since she’d told Renzo to run. She tried to imagine what he’d done with the time, while she was chained to a prison ship and nursing Malachi to health and traveling up the coast. Had her brother actually run? Had Asa sent men to track him down?

What if Renzo had been captured that same night? What if all this time she’d been hoping, the worst had already happened? If Renzo were dead, would she feel it deep in her bones, their connection as twins spanning the distance? Was that what she felt now, in the sinking in her stomach, the aching and pervasive dread?

“You look distressed,” Malachi said.

She started. He was sitting up, the straw hat abandoned on the seat beside him.

Nomi glanced out the warped glass of the window. “I was wondering what I’ll do if Asa’s already found Renzo. How I’ll feel if we’re already too late.” Tears built behind her eyes. “I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much now, when we’re so close to the truth.”

“Maybe that is why,” he said. “When you don’t know, there’s always hope.”

Nomi dropped her head to her hands. She wasn’t ready to give up hope, and yet not knowing tore her to shreds. Maybe they should have stayed in Porto Rosa. What were the odds Renzo had actually sent her parents a message?