This was a relief, although it begged the question of where Illumina would have gone besides Oaray, especially since my father would have stressed the importance of falsified travel papers. Then my heart faltered-maybe something had happened to her before she'd reached this city.

"The other one is tall, white-blond hair, probably tied with different-colored ribbons. My age. Her name is Evangeline."

This time, Spex nodded. "Yeah, I identified her."

I gulped for air but could produce no sound, prompting Shea to speak up on my behalf.

"Where do they go? The Faeries you spot?"

"I don't know. Really, I don't. Look, it's not just my neck I'm risking by talking to you...." He trailed off, then focused his gaze on me. "You care about this girl, don't you?"

He was seeking a reason to be honest with me, and I could tell he needed a good one. Whomever he was putting in jeopardy by talking with us was important to him, and I had to show that Evangeline was just as important to me. I nodded, the tears in my eyes an unintentional boon to our goal.

"We keep Sepulchres," Spex murmured. "Hastings takes the Faeries to them because the creatures can identify their type of magic. You know, fire, earth, whatever. After, some of them are let go, thinking they drank too much and had a wild night, and some of them I don't see again. My best guess is they go to Tairmor. Maybe. It'd be a logical stop, anyway."

Shea stood, pulling Spex along with her, surprising me as much as him.

"Come with us. We'll find out if you're telling the truth, and you'll be rid of Hastings."

Spex jerked violently away from her, drawing a few stares from other patrons in the restaurant.

"No! I can't. I can't go with you. I told you, I'm not the only one in danger here. I have a debt to pay."

Shea paled. "A debt to whom?"

"Who do you think? Now get out of here. I don't want to know your names, and I don't want to see your faces again. And if you open your mouths and get me killed, damned if I don't come back to haunt you. Go!"

We hurried back to our table, leaving Spex to reclaim his seat mere moments before Hastings and the restaurant owner returned, laughing with one another. We devoured our food, putting our heads down as Spex and Hastings departed. After giving them time to clear out of the area, we gathered our meager belongings and left the promised tip on the table for our server. Ready to leave Oaray behind, we headed to the livery stable, only to discover a familiar, large, bald-headed man inside the building, talking to the owner.

"Excuse me, but we'd like our horses," I boldly interrupted. The livery owner mumbled something beneath his breath, then led our geldings into the aisle to saddle them.

"Nice-looking animals," Hastings remarked, stroking one of them on the neck. Turning to the owner, he offered, "I'll lend a hand. Can't expect much help from the girls here."

I resented the way he referred to us; I also resented his involvement in preparing our mounts, though I couldn't come up with a reason to object. When the men had secured our bedrolls and packs behind the saddles, I nudged Shea and we walked outside, letting the livery owner lead the horses. Swinging aboard much more smoothly than our first attempt in Strong, we nudged the geldings forward, leaving Hastings in the dust. I sincerely hoped we'd never have the displeasure of seeing him again.

CHAPTER TEN.

THE FERE.

I had no doubt that the next leg of our journey to Tairmor would be the most taxing. There was a mountainous stretch between the east and west sides of the Warckum Territory called the Fere, most likely a shortened version of interference, for its sole purpose seemed to be to hinder travelers. While there was a path carved through the Fere, and a few tiny mining towns where Shea and I could have stayed, we opted to make our own camps off the road. After our dubious encounters with the locals of both Strong and Oaray, we preferred to be safe rather than sorry. My travel funds were also drying up faster than I would have liked, the inflated expense of Shea's travel papers having delivered a bit of a blow.

Shea was restless on our first night in the wild, mountainous country we were now crossing. She tended the fire, continuing even after it was energetic enough to heat our sleeping space under a gray stone outcropping. Having traveled through this part of the Territory before, I made a snare and went hunting for small game, wanting to conserve our jerky. When I returned, Shea was standing and staring out into the void, a lit piece of wood held high. She jumped when I stepped out of the darkness, and I could no longer ignore her state of mind.

"What's the matter?" I asked, retrieving my long-knife and sitting down to skin the animals I'd captured.

"Nothing. I guess I'm just nervous about being followed."

I chuckled. "Who would be following us? Spex and Hastings have a business to run. And the Sepulchre that broke into our room in Strong stole what it wanted and got a bullet for its trouble. I hate to tell you, but we're not all that interesting. So what's really going on?"

Shea sighed and came to sit beside me, poking at the fire. "My last trip through the Fere wasn't an easy one. It's messing with my head."

I thought about this for a moment, putting our meat on a spit to cook. "When your family fled Tairmor?" At her nod, I pressed further. "I don't quite remember-what was your father involved in?"

"He was a woodworker and a machinist, specialized in clocks. We used to have the most beautiful clocks all over the house."

"He built the one back at the cabin," I surmised, picturing the tall clock that stood in the main room of the Mores' house. It had been simple but beautiful, with etchings around the face.

"He did." She smiled, reflecting. "He was a very fine craftsman-still is, I suppose. He found his own raw materials and made everything from scratch. His work was always of top quality. And he was careful about the projects he undertook. He knew the specifications of an order before he decided whether or not to accept it. That's why I don't understand what went wrong when he received work commissioned by the government."

A nervous discomfort began to build in me as she spoke. "Did you ever see what he was making?"

"Once-it looked like a magician's box. You know, where the magician makes someone disappear? I'd seen a magic show in Tairmor when I was younger and was excited about the project. But he got angry at me for poking around and said it was just a fancy wardrobe. All I know is he didn't finish the work, and ended up owing the government a large sum of money."

She hugged her knees to her chest, and I could see the descent of her mood in the dropping of her eyes and hollowing of her cheeks.

"When we found out we couldn't leave the Territory from Sheness, we came through here-through the Fere. We stayed off the path, traveling mostly at night, and it was horrible. It was cold, and we were afraid of pursuit. And if my mother hadn't known her plants and herbs, we probably would have starved to death."

Shea hesitated, distractedly toying with the necklace Thatcher had given her. "One time when we were resting, I got up the courage to ask my father about his debt. He didn't really want to talk about it, but he ended up saying, 'Sometimes the people we're supposed to trust do bad things. And even if we respect those people, their actions are still wrong, and something has to be done about it.' I always thought he was talking about himself, telling me I shouldn't resent the government for trying to find us. Now I think maybe he was defending his own decisions, and trying to explain politics to me."

"Politics can be complicated," I acknowledged, feeling I had some experience in the field. "I'm sure your father had good reason for abandoning the government's project, whatever it was. He wouldn't lightly take his family on the run."

Removing our sizzling dinner from the spit, I offered a portion to Shea. "No one's going to bother us tonight. And hot food in your stomach will make it easier to sleep."

She nodded and took a bite. "This is delicious. Better than jerky."

"You sound surprised. I think I've been insulted."

Shea grinned. "Not at all. I just didn't know how good a cook you'd be. After all, you didn't know how to ride a horse."

I reached behind me, grabbed a handful of snow and flung it at her. Before long, we were both laughing, her jest giving me confidence that she would be fine.

We continued our difficult journey through the Fere, and by the third night, I was shivering far more than could be attributed to the bitter weather.

"Sit close to the fire," Shea told me, and I inched toward our source of warmth, allowing her to remove my blanket and cloak. My body felt incapable of functioning normally-my movements were choppy, as though my muscles had to break free of thick sap.

I shuddered in the breeze that made its way into our makeshift pitched-blanket enclosure, and turned my back to Shea so she could look at my injury. She lifted my shirt and gasped.

"What is it?" I asked, my jaw barely unlocking for speech.

"When did you remove the bandages, Anya? I didn't say you could. Never mind, it doesn't matter now. But the way this looks, I'm going to have to lance the wounds. The infection is deep, and I need to draw it out."

She went to her pack to retrieve a hunting knife and the necessary supplies, leaving me longing for Sale, which I realized now was a miracle drink. Not only did it speed healing, ward off illness and increase energy, it also took the edge off pain. I knew of nothing like it in the Warckum Territory. It was beginning to feel like being human was akin to being cursed.

"I'll try to be quick," Shea said, heating her blade over the fire to sterilize it.

I nodded. "Ready when you are."

She came to my side, and I buried my face in my knees, clenching my jaw against the flare of pain I knew would be forthcoming. But when Shea touched me, I lurched forward, seized by the certainty she intended to harm me. I turned around, my hand slipping to the Anlace, and fear dashed across her face.

"Anya, are you all right? I thought you wanted me to help you."

I stared at her, whatever I had felt fading. "I did. I mean, I do. I'm sorry, Shea. I guess I'm just not feeling well."

Shea chuckled nervously. "That's obvious. So am I going to have to knock you out to get this done?"

"No, but thanks for the offer." I gave her a weak smile. "I promise to be a good patient."

"Then let's try again."

I returned to my earlier posture, and this time I permitted Shea to minister to my wounds.

"All right, that's good for now," she finished. "But I'm going to have to keep an eye on you. We're probably in for a long night."

She was right, of course. Between my intermittent discomfort and the medical attention she had to continually administer, neither of us slept much. I lay facedown on a bed of blankets, and when Shea wasn't attempting to clean and re-dress my fractured skin, the rest of the blankets were on top of me, including those that had cushioned the horses' backs beneath our saddles.

Despite my mound of coverings, I was cold, and I worried about Shea in her modest cloak. The one time I mustered the energy to offer her some of the warmth I was hoarding, she stubbornly refused.

"Patients come first," she said, appeasing me by sitting close to the fire. "Besides, what would I do if you died out here? This adventure we're on would be no fun at all."

"Did your mother teach you that?"

"What? To value my friends?"

I was pale and sickly, but nonetheless, the sound that came out of my mouth resembled a chuckle.

"No, I meant about the patients. Didn't you tell me back at the cabin that she was teaching you to be a healer?"

"Trying to teach me. I know enough to get by, but I was never that interested, to be honest. I think she hoped I'd become a nurse one day. That's what she used to be."

Shea gazed off into the distance, and I was thankful she missed my wince as I readjusted my position. I couldn't resist my next question, since our upcoming stop was the capital city.

"Are you excited to be going to Tairmor again? Or scared?"

"I'm not anything really," she responded with a shrug, though I could see the lie in her eyes. I waited tolerantly, my silence inviting her to continue. "There's this naive part of me that wants to see the city again, walk around like nothing ever happened, nothing changed. But that's stupid. It won't be safe for me in Tairmor. It's the most likely place someone will recognize me." She sighed, poking at the fire with a stick. "The capital's not my home anymore, Anya. It's a trap waiting to spring. Knowing that, I shouldn't be eager to get there."

"But you can't help yourself."

"Nope," she said with a reckless sort of cheerfulness. She came to her feet and tossed the stick into the darkness. "I'll walk into the trap smiling. Can't be helped."

I laughed, but it turned into a cough, which turned into another grimace.

"I'm fine," I said, sensing Shea was about to hand over her cloak.

She frowned at me for a moment, then changed the subject. "So you have two cousins lost out here in the human world?"

"It looks that way."

"Zabriel is the runaway you told me about, and..."

"Illumina is supposed to find him."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

The tale was taking on a humorous ring, and I bit my tongue to keep from responding, "Who knows?" I opted to try to explain instead.

"Illumina's only fourteen. And she's troubled. I don't really understand why my aunt sent her in the first place. So I decided to come after Zabriel myself and, if I can, make sure Illumina gets home safely."

"And I thought my family was messed up," Shea joked, bringing a wry smile to my face. She had a point. The royal family of Chrior was made up of human-haters and human-lovers, runaways and seekers, those who wanted the throne and those like me who absolutely did not. "I'll help you look for Illumina, too, if you like."

I nodded, concern wrinkling my brow. "I hate to say it, but if Illumina had run into Spex and Hastings, we'd have an idea how she's faring. As is, something could have happened to her before she even reached Oaray to get travel documents."

"I can't imagine how I'd feel if it was Maggie or Marissa who was missing. You must be going insane."

"If I let myself dwell on it, I want to throw up. I'm worried about both of them. It's been two years since Zabriel's disappearance, and I have no idea how he's doing or who he might have become. He'd be seventeen now, and might not have any interest in seeing me. And Illumina has never been in the Warckum Territory before and really shouldn't be out here on her own."

"And Evangeline? Who is she?"

"One of my best friends. She hadn't returned from her Crossing before I left-that's when we go into the human world for the first time. She was later than she should have been, and I knew something was wrong. I just didn't want to see it. I don't know why people think things are better if we pretend they're not happening. Pretending certainly didn't make anything better for Evangeline, wherever she is."

"This territory is a wilderness for you Fae, isn't it?" Shea mused, unable to argue or even comfort me on the point I had made. "Just like the Balsam Forest is for humans."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

Our conversation dropped off. Expressing my concerns to Shea had done nothing to ease them, and a sick feeling had now crept into my stomach. Eventually, I noticed her biting her thumbnail, a sign she was restless, too.

"Is there something else you wanted to ask?" I prompted.

"It's just curiosity, so you don't have to answer if you'd rather not. But I was wondering if you have any brothers or sisters? Or do you only have cousins?"

"I'm an only child, which is pretty typical of Fae families since the war. We live long lives and have somewhat limited space in our corner of the forest. I only have the two cousins, and like me, they have no brothers or sisters."

"What about your parents?"

Shea's line of inquiry was taking me down an uncomfortable road. I didn't want her to know of my family's connection to the Queen. But she had told me about her family; it seemed only fair to tell her about mine. Besides, I hadn't talked to anyone about my mother and father since Zabriel had run away, and there was a surprising longing in my heart to do so. And so I gave an honest, but incomplete, answer.

"My mother died a few years ago. She was sick. My father monitors news from the Territory and offers advice to travelers."

"I'm sorry about your mother, Anya."