A pink glow still lit up the clouds when Capstone let Able out the back door of the women's quarters before she locked it up for the night. The dusk was not making the yard or anything else about this less surreal. Reeve had actually seemed pleased when Able suggested that he slip away in the night without Adeptson knowing. Was this only a ruse and an enforcer was going to tail him?
He pulled the collar of the coat up against the chill. He'd put on as many clothes as would fit under it, but right now his blood was preoccupied with the first real meal he'd had in days. Filling his belly hadn't stressed his abdominal bruises, but walking sure was. He shifted his heaviest jacket, repurposed as a sling to carry his notes and a few more items of clothing, higher on his shoulder. He was leaving the rest behind.
Careful of his injury, he minced up the hill towards the uncut woods. Even in the disorienting twilight, he could see the trees here were beset by a foul-smelling fungus. The ground was a bit slippery with both it and dead leaves. He chanced a glance back. He didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean no one was following him. Taking a deep breath, he wandered into the shadows.
His eyes adjusted until he could make out tree trunks, some rocks, and even the wall. But no Chestnut Miller. Well...now what? Wait for it to get darker and try to sneak out? The road should go south to Aimsby, and he knew the way to Fairbanks from there. But getting over the wall—
A rustle from his left froze him in place. He cautiously turned his head. Miller seemed to materialize from the litter of the forest floor—clad in the Resistance gray.
"Do you have the key?" she asked as she brushed leaves from her backside.
"Key?"
"It's not necessarily a literal key." Her expression was shrouded in shadow, but she appeared to look up. "In my vision, there was a maze of bridges. The largest bridge led to a wall of gold so high I could not see the top of it. There's something we need behind that wall. And you were with me, and you had a tin key that opened the door at the bottom—made the door appear. That's where we're going."
Bridgebay and Lionstone Palace? He may have been addled in that cell, but he certainly had not mentioned these places to her. "...you're unsettling, you know that?"
"Yes." She seemed unbothered by this and continued to look at him expectantly. Well, she had been right about everything so far, however weird way she managed it. And she was also right that he wasn't about to strike off on his own through these woods.
"I have a letter that might function like your key."
"Good." She sounded neither pleased nor displeased as she reached down and produced a bundle from the leaves. "Put these on."
Able unraveled it to discover a similar gray suit. Well, she'd been nigh invisible in hers. He once again looked into the similarly gray yard of the fortress before he began to step into them. "So you want to come with me to Bridgebay, then? Why?"
"To stop Constance. As I said before. And keep your voice down." She stepped forward to help him tuck his trousers into the coveralls.
He flinched at her touch, once again upsetting his bruises. But he held still now, for his clothes were uncomfortably bunched up and bending over would hurt. She crouched and pulled his layers of pants down and into his boots again. Meanwhile, he experimentally shrugged the coveralls over both his makeshift bag and coat. It nearly fit, and he figured leaving a few buttons open would compromise his camouflage less than having the jacket slung over his shoulder would.
"So we're going to Fairbanks to find a ship?" he asked as he finished adjusting himself.
"No, Pearlshore." Miller picked up a staff from where it rested against the tree she'd been sitting beside. No, it's tip winked in the last of light—a spear.
"Uh—I have things in Fairbanks I'm going to need, and it's closer."
"I've already seen to your books—had to deliver Lark's message to Splendor anyway. Furthermore, all the ships there go to the southern ports." She held out a gray hood to him.
"Yes, but it would still be faster to go to Blueport and then take a second ship to Bridgebay. Ships don't need to stop to eat or sleep, you know."
"I've already had your books sent to Pearlshore," she reiterated and held the hood out a little further. Nothing to do but take it.
"Why, because you somehow knew I'd protest?" he groaned as he pulled it over his head.
"No." She laughed softly. "Because we have a sea captain who is a friend of mine there. And I didn't think bringing your books to Adeptsby a wise plan."
"I'll give you that one." Able sighed then took a deep breath of the chilly air. As irritating as it was that Miller had planned all this out without consulting him, she'd prepared everything to get him to Bridgebay while he had woken up unsure he'd ever see the sky again. He still couldn't see it now.
"Follow me." She tucked the spear against her arm and strode deeper into the woods.
So he followed. "What about Fairweather? Did something happen to her?"
"Nothing. Serving Fairweather is an honor that I do not hog for myself." She stopped and pointed to the ground. "Look at that."
Able saw nothing, so he crouched to peer at the ground in the meager light until he discerned the hole from the shadows. "Oh."
"No 'oh,' yet." Miller sounded amused. She stepped around and her legs disappeared. Ah, behind a mound just beyond the hole. "I think you'll like this. See here, when a tree falls it often pulls its roots up with it. Over the years it erodes down, but it will leave these impressions on the forest floor. We call the tree's remains a 'mound,' and the hole it left a 'cradle.' So, as we make our way as quietly as we can through the woods tonight, if I were to say 'cradle'?"
Able couldn't help but smile. "I look for the nearest mound and get in the cradle."
"Very good." She sounded pleased. And then she began to fade away.
After one last glance over his shoulder, Able trotted to catch up to her. "One last question, though—who are we hiding from?"
"For now? Everyone."