He looked up. "We have a contact at the second checkpoint?"
Mira's eyes flicked to Caladwen. "Apparently, yes."
The Lady didn't elaborate. She watched the city, but her gaze tracked every movement inside the carriage as if she anticipated the possibility of violence from either direction.
Soren settled back, counting the rhythm of the wheels on the frozen road. He tried not to think about Meridian behind them, or the certainty that the further they got from the city, the less the rules would matter.
He opened a ration stick, bit off a piece, and let himself taste nothing.
By the time the sun had dropped, the city was just a smear of blue on the horizon. The world outside the carriage turned brittle, all wind and black trees and the distant, perpetual sound of bells, now so faint Soren could almost convince himself they were a memory.
