Isolde blinks at me. “You should have woken me. How long have you been up? Where are we?”

“You need your rest.” If people think I’m a monster, it’s only because they’ve never seen my sister when she’s tired. “We’ve been on the road since I got up—that puts us right between the edge of nowhere and the middle.”

Isolde groans, rubbing her face in her hands. “Do you ever sleep?”

I respond with a noncommittal noise.

“You should have woken me up,” she repeats and stretches as her toes meet the smooth wood of the floor.

“Everything’s gone fine so far.” I flick a long strand of hair away from my face. I braided it as the sun came up, and it’s already slipping free into my eyes. “Not like it’s my first time disappearing into the night. I’ve had practice.”

Isolde snorts half-heartedly, pours coffee into our other chipped enamel mug, and breathes in the sweet-smelling steam. “That’s the spirit.” She stands beside me, leaning on my seat as she peers out the window.

The road is mostly empty at this hour, in this weather. Perfect. We can go as fast as we want without fear of crashing into some poor farmer’s mule-drawn cart and destroying his crop of cabbages.

Not that that has ever happened before.

The road cuts through a patchwork of grassy meadows scattered with trees, which at this point all look exactly the same as they pass in a gray streak. This isn’t the Destiny’s first time carrying us down this road, but this time, we don’t turn at the crossroads that would eventually take us to the unfriendly seaside city of Faeport, or the walled Crowhold. We’re banned from both those places anyway, after two separate incidents involving pickpocketing and dozens of socks.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when a sudden chill makes me shudder. I’d managed to let my mind go blank for a while, not thinking about anything except the pattern of raindrops and the feel of the wheel under my hands. The wheel jerks with me, but I recover quickly, swerving back onto the road.

Maybe Isolde didn’t notice.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to drive?”

Of course she noticed.

I flinch, turning to look at her. Isolde sits on her spot on the floor, flicking one of her knives casually in her free hand as she pretends to study a map.

My shoulders hunch defensively. “Would you put that thing away? We don’t have enough space in here for you to start practicing a knife-throwing act.”

“That’s what you think.” She tosses it lightly in the air. The blade turns end-over-end before she snatches it by the hilt, flips it, and slips it back into its sheath.

“Stop showing off!”

“Seelie...” She grabs the driver’s seat and twirls it around.

I shrink into the leather, looking up at her. “I’m driving!”

“The road is straight for miles. We need to talk.”

My stuttered protests die in my throat. “I didn’t sleep well.” My hands curl into fists, nails pricking me again. “I’m fine now.”