"Everyone on this road smells like that," Marek answered. "They just hide it better."
"Everyone is lying," Isolde said. "And everyone thinks they're the only ones who are clever."
Rhaen almost smiled.
"Then we just have to be correct," she said.
By the second night, they left the main road.
Their camp was small and efficient, tucked between low hills where the trees began to grow taller and thicker. They lit no visible fire, only a rune-warmed stone in the centre of their circle, its heat kept low.
The night pressed close. Somewhere an owl called. Farther off, faint lights moved along the main road—other travellers, other schemes.
Rhaen sat with her back to a half-buried rock and spread Kael's orders on her lap.
The parchment was already worn at the folds. His spare handwriting filled half a page. The other half held a diagram of Ashen River's known outer shell, copied from League leaks and Technomancer bragging.
