We came to the stairs and fissure in the wall where I hid.
“Okay, I refuse to go any further.” Agatha planted her feet, crossing her arms and standing straight among the corn. “I need to know what’s going on.”
Her normally perfect brushed blonde hair was dirty, her blue eyes like steel. Her face cut through my panic and made me stop.
“Auntie is dead,” I implored.
“You’ve said that,” Agatha said. “But why?”
“Because of this.” I snatched the letter and pendant from my pocket and showed them to Agatha. Tears returned to my eyes, and I pressed the pendent into the seal on the letter.
“Who gave you this?” she asked incredulously, her eyes wide. “Thiswas sealed with your pendant. And you’ve always had your pendant on you. Unless someone has another one? Or–”
Her mouth snapped shut. I nodded.
“Can I–” she gestured with the letter.
“Of course,” I muttered.
Agatha was practically my sister. I’d never keep anything from her. We’d both grown up poor in Lassig our whole lives. We had compassion for each other when a whole town didn’t want to give it to us. I was a dormant werewolf, and she was the illegitimate daughter of some High Lord of Lady Skol’s. She should’ve been dead along with her mother in the ditch by the farming district, but someone had found her.
Agatha’s eyes widened further as she read on, her jawing dropping with each line. “Fey,” she began. “This is–”
“I know,” I said, taking the letter and pendant back. “Hard to believe. But someone was willing to kill Auntie for it. They’ll kill me too.”
Agatha shook her head, then shut her mouth again. I took her hand and looked where the guards were, ran up the stairs, and squeezed into the fissure before any more could be said. Agatha grunted behind me as she entered the small opening.
Where I always climbed upwards and to the look out, a second trail continued forward. Leading through the wall and onto the other side. Out into the Warlands. We emerged into the harsh sun on the other side. Baked rocks jarred our feet and the small plants that grew here were stunted and spikey.
“So what are we doing?” Agatha asked.
I pulled her along behind me, leading us along the wall towards the wagons. The great line coming through the door traced back to the road. The second part of the wagon train was now splitting up.
Half for Lassig.
The other for Moondaj.
“We’re getting on one,” I said.
“On a wagon?” Agatha asked.
“Exactly.”
“But–but that’s an enormous sprint with all the guards watching.” Agatha tried to stop again, but I pulled her on.
“It’s the only way,” I said. “Only way to Moondaj.” I pointed at the distance village on the horizon.
Agatha stared at the train, one cart already heading for the desert village. We would have to sprint like crazy to make the last cart as it left, but with all the assistants and sellers running back and forth between the wagons, we’d blend in.
Once we changed clothes of course.
“Ready?” I asked.
We watched the back of the Moondaj gates close as we rolled into the village. Our legs hung off the rear edge of the wagon. When we passed the first street we hopped off, running away quickly.
We had new clothes and Agatha had washed my wounds. We’d have to find a healer, but that wasn’t a problem. We were here now, that was what mattered. We remained silent, watching the village we’d heard of but never seen our whole lives. The horrors of shifters having been told to us our whole lives, their old ways and full moon sexual rituals… their violence and arguing. But despite all that they lookednormal.
All the people we saw were just like us. The village held blacksmiths, farmers, merchants, and sellers. Mothers had kids at their apron strings and then those very same children were playing in the streets. Horses were in stables even with every person being able to turn into a wolf.
