Then Nallo realized that their two companions were runaway slaves, and thieves in the bargain, and therefore dangerous to travel with. Isn’t that what Papa always said, when he scolded her for being vain of her looks? A sincere heart is better than a pretty face.

So they set off on their own, again, tramping along the road at a snail’s pace with Jerad sullen because the ginnies were gone. The wind picked up, and it started to rain, a big gusting downpour that soaked them through. It came down so hard and fast that the road churned with muddy water, but they had to keep going. They walked in the rain all morning, and rested where they could find shelter. Midday the rain slackened and ceased. Soon after, the sun came out between shredded clouds, and they walked in the steaming heat until Jerad could not go one step farther.

Ahead lay a village, surrounded with a fence to keep livestock in and wild beasts out. Stands of fruit and pipe and mulberry trees broke the expanse of field, and in the distance rose denser woodland not yet cleared.

It had been so many days since they had seen folk walking about their daily lives that it seemed strange to Avisha to see it now. Men sowed rice in seedling fields. Younger men guided their draft animals, plowing furrows through the larger fields, mud and water splattering until they and the beasts were coated. A pair of young women stood on the raised earth that separated the fields, holding trays with drink and food for the working men; they were chatting and laughing as though they’d no idea what had happened to Candra Crossing not three days’ walk away. Seeing the refugees, the young women splashed away into the cover of trees.

Two young men hurried over along the raised berms and confronted the travelers with spears and sour faces. The way they looked Avisha up and down made her shiver, for it wasn’t a nice look at all but an ugly one. “You’re not allowed to stop here.”

Nallo placed herself between the armed men and the children. “We can offer what news we have, of Candra Crossing, in exchange for a meal of rice.”

“We already know about Candra Crossing. You’re not the first travelers to come through. So you just move on.”

“The gods will curse you!” Nallo spat on the dirt.

The brawnier of the young men pushed the haft of his spear right up against Nallo’s chest. “Don’t threaten us. Take your ugly face and your pretty sister and your little brats and get moving before we make you wish you’d never walked this way. We’ll protect ourselves.”

Nallo grabbed Zianna and swung her up onto her hip. “The gods will judge the worth of your hospitality. Come, children. No need to linger here. It’s a gods-cursed place, as they’ll soon discover.”

Her stare sent the men back a few steps, and Nallo walked past, not looking to see if Avisha and Jerad were following. Those hostile stares scared Avisha, but she could only walk so fast and keep the washtub balanced on her head, and anyway Jerad was lagging. But he stuck it out, and Nallo—who wasn’t as oblivious as she sometimes seemed—called a halt as soon as they discovered a Ladytree on the far side of the village, just off the road. Under its spreading branches they found shelter from the drizzle. In a recently used fire pit, Nallo got sticks smoldering and cooked up two handfuls of rice, not enough to fill their stomachs but enough to cut the ache of hunger.