already been led away too, strapped to the unstuck and mended carriages, while the shadow of night begins to curl over the horizon, ready to bathe the world dark.
“Ready, Miss Auren?” Sail asks, coming up from behind me.
I dash away the snowflake that lands on my cheek. “More than ready to get moving. I thought that storm would never end.”
“We lost a few days, and the ground turned to ice, but the new snow will help, and we’re not so far off from Fifth Kingdom.”
“Good,” I say, as I begin to follow him away from the trees to where the horses are already lined up.
Digby stops me, a scowl ready on his face. “Your hair is wet.”
“Excellent observational skills, Diggy,” I tease before bringing up my hood.
But even Sail frowns over at me. “He’s right. You’ll catch a chill.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll ride in the carriage until it’s dry,” Digby states.
Now it’s my turn to scowl. I don’t want to be cooped up in the carriage after being cooped up in the tent for three days. “I’d prefer to ride.” Digby shakes his head.
“I’ll wear my hood,” I insist.
He doesn’t reply, just walks me over to my carriage and pops the door open, eyeing me. He’s obviously not going to be talked out of it, and I don’t see Crisp anyway.
I sigh in defeat. “Fine,” I grumble. “But as soon as it’s dry, I’m riding next to you, and I’m going to talk for hours,” I warn him.
I can’t be sure, but I think the corner of his mouth tilts up, just a bit. I point at it. “Ha! You almost smiled,” I say victoriously before turning to Sail. “You saw it too, right?”
He nods with a grin. “Definitely.”
Digby rolls his eyes and hikes a thumb toward the inside of the carriage. “In.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say before climbing into the carriage. Sail gives me a smile before shutting the door, and I lean back, settling against the cushioned seat as our group begins to move forward once more. At least my legs and back had a nice reprieve from riding, my muscles no longer sore.
I loosen my hair out of the braid, hoping that it’ll help to dry it quicker. I’m already bored out of my mind, and I’ve only been in here for a few minutes. I lean against the carriage wall and close my eyes, wondering how many days we still have of travel before we reach Fifth Kingdom. I know the storm set us back, but I’m not sure by how much.
The steady rocking of the carriage must make me fall asleep, because the next thing I know, my eyes are flying open. I look around the carriage, noting that the small lantern inside has died out.
My ribbons are curled up around me beneath my coat, offering me some extra warmth, and my hair is dry, the golden strands hanging behind my shoulders.
I’m disoriented as I look around the dark carriage, troubled as I try to pinpoint what woke me up. But then I realize, the carriage has stopped.
It’s still dark out, so I know we can’t have been traveling for very long. The carriage probably got stuck again, and the jolt woke me. I wipe the condensation off the window and look out, but all I can see is a thick veil of darkness.
I rap my knuckles against the glass. “Digby? Sail?”
I don’t get a response, and I don’t hear any of the men outside. A corrosive edge of panic threatens to slice into me, and my hand lifts up to the scar on my throat—something I haven’t done in days.
Scooting closer to the door, I press my face against the glass, attempting to see something, anything, out the window, but all that’s visible is the dimmest glow of snow on the ground. Everything else is bathed in darkness.
I grip the handle to go outside and investigate, but the door wrenches open, making me flinch back in surprise as Sail’s head pops in.
“Great Divine, you scared me. What’s happening?”
“Sorry, Miss Auren,” he says, his eyes flicking down to where my hand is holding my throat. I quickly drop it as he clears his throat. “Digby called a halt. The leads saw some disturbance in the snow, so he’s sent out some scouts.”
“What kind of disturbance?”
“Not sure yet.”
I move to get out, but Sail doesn’t step aside and instead gives me a sheepish look. “Digby wants you to stay in the carriage.”
I’m sure he does, but I can’t