Karas appeared to consider Silvie’s promise, then walked toward them. She looked at the road and stopped when the rock blocked a direct view.

“Are all girls like you so brave?” Silvie asked, offering a smile.

“No. Are you going to fix your skin?”

“Yes,” Johnis said. “That’s what we need help with. We need to get to the Dark Priest’s home. Or maybe to the temple so we can find help. But we’re afraid that if people see us like this, they’d throw us out. No one can know we have this . . . this problem.”

“You mean ‘disease,’ ” she said. “I may be small, but I’m not that stupid. You’re Forest Dwellers, and you have the skin disease. You want to fix your disease? Then you should stay away from the water. Everyone knows that the forest water can kill you.”

Johnis blinked. She reminded him so much of his sister, Kiella, in her manner of speaking that for a moment he wondered if he was dreaming and this was Kiella, but with the skin disease.

He’d been part-Horde once, so he knew how confusing the transition was. But watching this young, articulate girl, he knew that the Guard’s assumption that Scabs were less intelligent because of the disease was wrong. It affected their perception of moral truth, perhaps, but not their intellect.

“Will you take us to the priest?” Jackov asked.

“Yes, I can.”

Silvie shot Jackov a questioning look. “No, wait, that’s not what we want. What he means is, can you get us clothes so that we can sneak in without the whole city throwing mud at us?”

“I can, but if you want to see my father, I can take you. Is that what you want?”

“Your father?”

“The priest. He’s the one you need to see, right?”

Johnis felt his pulse surge. “Your father is the Dark Priest?”

“Of course.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that Johnis wondered if she understood their meaning. “You mean the priest who leads the—you know, the religion of the Horde.”

“The priest who insists we all worship Teeleh, the brass snake, yes . . . that priest. The only priest.”

“You only have one priest for the whole city, then?”

“One priest,” she said. “If you want, I can take you now.”

This girl might know his mother, Johnis realized. They had struck a gold mine. But if they didn’t proceed with caution, that very mine could collapse around them.

“Yes, that would be good,” Jackov said. “Take us directly to your father.”

“Are you mad?” Silvie blurted. Then, for the girl’s benefit: “I can’t be seen like this. We have to have head coverings—robes that make us look at least somewhat normal.”

“What about your mother?” Johnis asked. “Is she also a priest?”

“I don’t have a mother. She was killed when I was a little girl. The servant takes care of me now.”