Jack’s life. He’s in danger. The next full moon.

The next full moon. That’s three nights from now.

The sounds of the world slam back. Hit me like a wall. Music, laughter, voices. The red hot kicks me in the gut an roars into life. My fingertips tingle. My belly burns. An I’m wound up so tight I could bust.

It’s the way I used to feel before a fight in the Cage. Alive. Truly, fiercely alive. An thinkin clear.

I weave my way through the dancers an vault onto the platform, right in the middle of the band. Lilith’s bellowin out a bawdy song. I put my hand on her arm an she stops, startled. The Lost Cause, I says. You ever heard of it? D’you know about it?

Sure, she says. Molly’s place. Me an Meg worked there.

Where is it?

New Eden, she says. The Storm Belt, right in the middle.

Got it, I says. I start to go an she grabs my arm.

You cain’t go there, she says, you got a price on yer head.

Don’t tell nobody, I says. Swear.

But I—

Swear, Lilith!

She stares at me tight-lipped. She can see I’m fixed on it. Okay, she says, but you—

I’m already jumpin down, makin my way towards Auriel’s tent. But I can hear her voice, even over the racket of the music. Callin after me.

Saba! Be careful!

Nobody follows.

Tracker’s sprawled in front of Auriel’s tent. He gits to his feet the moment he sees me. I hush him with a finger to my lips. I check that nobody’s watchin, then we duck inside.

Lugh an Tommo’s left our gear to one side. It’s all packed up neat, ready fer a early start west in the mornin. I grab my barkskin sack an do a quick check of what’s in it. Full waterskin, flint, knife, blanket, jerky. The bare bones of survival.

As I pull a tunic over my head, I consider weapons. I’ll need somethin. My eyes go to Lugh’s bow an quiver. No, it wouldn’t be right. I take his slingshot instead. Stuff it down the back of my britches. I block out that I’m leavin him an Emmi an Tommo behind. Thoughts of how crazy worried they’ll be when they find me gone. I swallow down the sudden, tight fright of bein on my own. Jack’s in trouble. He needs me.

Move fast. Don’t think.

I grab Hermes’ gear. I shoulder my sack. Tracker’s sat there. Watchin. Waitin. C’mon, I says.

I check it’s all clear, then him an me slip outside agin. We hurry towards the bottom end of camp to find Hermes. Durin the day, the beasts got gathered up – horses, camels, mules an all – an penned in with a rope an peg fence in case they got spooked by the night’s noise. Along the way, I whistle fer Nero.

When the pen’s in sight, I stop. C’mere, Tracker, I says. He presses into my side. You cain’t come, I says, it’s too far. You gotta stay here with Auriel. She’ll keep you safe. While I’m talkin, I take a loop of rope from my belt – tough, made from silverberry twine – an tie it around his neck. I lead him to a big cottonwood that stands behind the last few shelters an tether him to the trunk. His pale eyes follow my every move. Don’t look at me like that, I says, it’s fer yer own good.

He shoves his head into me. My nose prickles but I clamp down firm. I ain’t got time to cry. I rub his ears an kiss his rough fur. Thanks, I whisper. Now, you stay here. Hush.

Then I leave him. Fine creature that he is, he don’t make a sound. Jest like I told him.

Nero drops outta the darkness. He lands on my shoulder, the heartstone danglin from his beak. Gimme that, you villain. I take it from him, put it around my neck. It ’ud serve you right if I tied you up an left you here, I says.

We reach the animal pen. Auriel’s there. She stands at Hermes’ head, strokin his nose. Star bright stargirl, wrapped in her dark red shawl. The glass beads in her hair glitter in the moonlight. Nero flies to perch on the rope fence beside her.

I walk up an throw my sack on the ground. I says naught. I don’t look at her. Not even a quick glance as I saddle up Hermes with horse blanket an soft reed mat, as I lift his bridle over his head.

She helps me adjust it. Our eyes meet. I look away quick.

I’m goin after Jack, I says. To New Eden. He did send a message. He’s in trouble.

I’ll say this one last time, she says. Yer dangerously open, Saba. We didn’t finish proper, we stopped at the wrong moment. Please, will you stay an let me finish.

I cain’t wait, I says. I already wasted too much time.

Okay, she says, I done all I can. I brought you this.

She goes to the fence. Picks up a bow that’s leaned aginst it, a pale, silvery white bow. I stop what I’m doin. Cold shivers chase over my skin. Then I’m duckin unner Hermes’ neck an I’m standin in front of Auriel. She holds out the bow.

Yer grandfather’s bow, I says. Namid.

Yes, she says. Before he was a shaman, he was a great warrior. Now it belongs to you.

Heartwood of the whiteoak, I says. It cain’t ever break.

You remember, she says.

I remember, I says.

I reach out. I take it. My skin tingles where it touches the wood. I feel its smoothness. Heft its weight. It’s sweet. True. Perfect.

Auriel hands me a arrow. I swing the bow up an fit a arrow to the string. It cleaves to me. Like it’s part of me. My hands stay steady an sure. No shakes. No trembles.

It’ll do, I says. I sling it on my back. She hands me a full quiver. I better make tracks, I says.

Auriel holds Hermes’ head as I mount. Music drifts, dips on the warm night breeze. The scratchy sweet whisper of a waltz.

There is a quicker route, she says. It’s fast, but it ain’t safe.

Tell me, I says.

Due north of here, you’ll run into the old Wrecker road that skirts over top of the Waste, she says. If you ride fast, if you don’t stop, you could be at the Yann Gap by sunup. The road ends there. Once you cross the Gap, yer on Tonton soil. The far north-west corner of New Eden. There ain’t nobody there, you can slip in, unseen.

I ain’t never heard of no north road, I says.

That’s becuz them that take it, rarely make it. They call it the Wraithway, she says. There’s all kinds of stories about it. The Wrecker spirits that ride its length, seekin vengeance fer their lost lives. Strange beasts. Skull collectors.

I’ll take my chances, I says.

What’ll I tell Lugh? she says. He’s gonna come after you, y’know.

That’s why I need a head start, I says. Stall him. Lie to him, whatever you gotta do. Jest buy me some time.

I start to move Hermes, but she grabs hold of his bridle.

Have a care fer yer brother, she says. He’s— There’s some wounds that run too deep to be seen. They’re the most dangerous. An remember what I said about Tommo, he—

I ain’t got time fer this, Auriel. Leave go of me.

This is important, you really—

I said, let go!

DeMalo, she says.

My stummick clenches. What about him? I says.

He’s the Pathfinder, she says. You’ll meet him agin. You ain’t ready.

My palms go clammy. I’ll try to steer clear of him, I says.

Saba, she says, yer only jest beginnin to know who you are, what you can do, who you can be. Remember, in the tent, in yer vision . . . yer right, DeMalo does know the shadows. His own, yers, the rest of us. We all have ’em. They’re a powerful part of you, but you must learn to—