Sonder drifted to the side of the road with the others who had been denied entry.
There were many. Some lingered by the wall in the thin strip of shade, muttering their plans in low voices.
Others argued with one another or simply sat with heads in their hands, as if staring hard enough at the gates might open them.
A few looked as though they had been waiting for days, eyes sunken, clothes stiff with dust, clinging to the hope that some new scheme would come to them if they only stayed long enough.
Sonder found a spot against a stone outcropping and lowered herself onto it, her little bag resting in her lap. The day dragged on, the line at the gates unbroken.
For a time she simply watched, trying to think of a way forward, but no answer came.
She could go over the walls. It would be simple, but it wouldn't be right, and of course she'd be seen, and she didn't want to be jailed.
It was later, when the sun had shifted westward, that a voice came from nearby.
"You got turned away too?"
Sonder lifted her head.
A boy stood over her, older than her by a few years, tall but not yet grown into it, with hair that hung into his eyes.
His clothes were patched but cleaner than most, meaning he arrived only recently, and he carried nothing but a small satchel slung across his back.
His manner was open but not careless.
"Yes," Sonder said.
He hesitated, then stepped closer. "I'm Lacuna," he said. "Maybe we should put our heads together. Two minds are better than one, right? Maybe we can think of a way in."
Sonder rose to her feet and bowed slightly, hands at her sides. "I am Sonder."
They sat down.
"Why do you want to get in?" Sonder asked.
"Same reason as most," he said with a half-shrug. "They say if you can make it into Gloam, you can make it big. Fortune, patrons, work that matters. But getting through those gates…" he exhaled sharply through his nose, "that's the hard part."
His mouth twitched as if to swallow the words, but they slipped out anyway. "Maybe if I had someone to sell as a concubine to one of the princes…"
Sonder tilted her head. "What's a concubine?"
"Forget I said that," he stammered quickly. "Gods, I shouldn't have even thought it."
He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered.
He pressed on quickly, trying to recover. "What I mean is, what are you good at? Do you paint? Play an instrument? Dance? They say art gets you noticed in Gloam."
Sonder shook her head. "I'm not talented at those things."
His shoulders sagged. "Figures. Me neither. I'm too young to be a master at anything. I wasn't even an apprentice. You? Anything of note?"
"I'm a sorceress," Sonder said simply.
Lacuna stared at her, then let out a sharp laugh. "You're joking. No way. You?" His gaze darted to her ragged clothes, to the little bag, then back to her face.
"I'm not joking," she said flatly.
He stared another moment, then leaned in, his expression turning from disbelief to something more cautious and curious. "If that's true, you should've said so sooner."