The Rogue Knight Page 32

Skye chuckled skeptically. “Believe me, the Unseen have looked. Nobody can work changings and illusions like Callista. She could be a great asset. But if she wants to hide, we don’t have a chance. Finding her would take a miracle.”

“We have a Miracle,” Jace inserted.

“Aren’t there any clues?” Mira asked, ignoring the comment. “Maybe a way to signal Callista to come out of hiding?”

Skye shook her head. “Callista abandoned her stronghold decades ago. She brought none of her apprentices or attendants with her and left no messages with her fellow enchanters. She just vanished. Even if we found her, who knows what we could expect? Callista was always eccentric.”

“You’ve already signed on with this caravan?” Joe asked.

“Yes,” Skye said. “We’ll have two coaches, each with four horses and a driver. As travel goes, it should be very comfortable. I’ll use my Madeline disguise—the disgruntled assistant looking to start over in a new town. You can pose as my attendants. The caravan I chose is led by Monroe Sinclair, a longtime sympathizer of the rebellion. We can always pull out. I’ll lose my deposit, but I have ringers to spare. Travel by caravan is a bit slower and more structured than a small mounted group, but I think it’s safer overall.”

“You’re the local,” Mira said. “And you’ve spent a lot of time dodging the Ellowine authorities. We’ll trust your judgment.”

“Makes sense to me,” Joe agreed.

“Very well,” Skye said. “I have other preparations to make. Mira, come to my room in an hour, and I’ll restore your illusion. I’ll make a new identity for Cole tonight. We rented rooms here for three days, but plan to leave with the caravan tomorrow at sunrise.”

After Skye left the room, Cole neared Twitch. He didn’t know the right words to sum up his gratitude, but he had to try. “Thanks for following me. I thought I was a goner. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You would have been an extremely right-handed slave,” Jace said. “Thank Mira too. She insisted we go after you.”

Mira swatted Jace on the shoulder. “You would have gone on your own.”

Jace shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll never know.”

Cole was too grateful to let Jace get to him. “Thank you all,” he said. “I’ll owe you forever.”

“With Ansel off his trail, does Cole still need a disguise?” Jace asked.

“Better safe than sorry,” Joe said. “I expect Ansel will keep his word, but it doesn’t hurt to take precautions. Besides, the word is out to look for three boys and a girl. Having one of the boys look older will make us all harder to detect.”

“I agree,” Mira said.

“Since Twitch just bailed me out,” Cole said, “I need to tell you something before I forget. Twitch could use our help with a problem.”

Twitch’s eyes widened in panic. He shook his head hurriedly.

“I’m worried you’ll never ask on your own,” Cole said.

Twitch covered his eyes. “All right. Go ahead.”

“Help with what?” Mira asked.

Cole explained about the swamp dweller who had taken over Twitch’s hometown. Twitch filled in names and details when Cole needed help. Even Jace listened respectfully.

“I’m sure we can find a mercenary to help you out,” Joe said. “I’d fight Renford myself, but I’m not really a duel-with-a-sword kind of guy. I’m afraid I’d lose. I can brawl, but I tend to rely on gadgets, and surprise, and a quick getaway.”

Twitch waved his hands to deny the offer. “I don’t want to cause any of you extra trouble. You already have more than enough problems. But I could use help hiring the right fighter.”

“Twitch!” Mira scolded. “Of course we’ll help you!”

“Can it wait until we get to Merriston?” Joe asked.

“It can be later than that,” Twitch said. “I want to help Mira find Honor first—and help Cole find Dalton.”

Joe crossed to Twitch and shook his hand. “It’s a deal. For now, rest up. We start early tomorrow.”

The caravan stood ready to depart well before sunrise. Two dozen wagons and coaches waited in the clammy predawn chill for the East Gate to open. Several riders would accompany the horse-drawn vehicles, including Monroe Sinclair and five private soldiers in light armor.

A thickset man in his fifties, Monroe had short graying hair and a long leather cloak slit partway up the back. He wore a large sword at his hip in a black scabbard. His broad jaw and blunt features made Cole think of old pioneer photographs. He seemed comfortable with leadership as he rode up and down the wagon line giving quiet instructions.

Seated in one of the eight passenger coaches, Cole bundled a thin blanket tighter around his shoulders against the chill. He studied his hands. They looked normal, although a long examination in front of a mirror had confirmed that others would see him as a short, plain man with an uneven haircut.

Skye had created the seeming last night as Cole squatted on a low stool. The procedure had mostly involved her pacing around him while he held still, occasionally raising an arm or turning his head as directed. Sometimes she moved in close and shut one eye. Other times she considered him from across the room. He hadn’t sensed anything out of the ordinary besides a faint tingling once or twice. When he presented himself to the others, Jace had laughed and said, “I thought you were ugly before.” Cole hoped it meant the disguise would work.

The approaching dawn infused some color into the somber morning. Jace, Twitch, and Joe all sat with Cole. They were dressed as servants. Mira rode in the fancier coach with Skye.

Several horsemen came trotting toward the caravan near Cole’s coach. At their front rode a man in full armor, his face hidden behind helm and visor. The others were dressed as guardsmen. Behind them rolled a stately coach with two uniformed drivers. Monroe rode over to greet the newcomers.

Cole watched with interest. Surely the guardsmen hadn’t come looking for Mira, but his mouth was dry nonetheless. Joe watched intently as well.

“Can I help you?” Monroe asked.

“Good morning, Monroe,” the heavily armored man said. “We’re joining your caravan.”

“It’s the first I’ve heard about it,” Monroe said, clearly rankled.

“Orders from the alderman,” the man replied. “We’re escorting his daughter Lucinda to Merriston. Alderman Cronin thought we’d travel more comfortably with your caravan, but he didn’t want word of the journey to spread ahead of time. You’ll still get your full fee, and you’ll have twice the armed escorts, including the best knight in Carthage.”

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