Mirror Sight

Despite this and other disturbing dreams, she felt noticeably better the next day, much more herself. As she rode in the back of the wagon, she did not drift in a haze, and the shakes had ceased.

Cade informed her they were traveling along the Capital Way, but she saw little that reminded her of the old Corsa Road, as it had once been named. The farm fields and woods she had known were transformed into towns both small and large. They were all gray granite and brick red, the people as somber as those in Mill City.

Raven, in contrast, seeming to have noticed her improvement, pranced and cavorted behind the wagon. He looked like he wanted a good long run, but she wasn’t ready to sit a saddle, nor did she think Luke or Cade would allow her to take Raven for a ride in this unknown region. She was, however, tiring of being an invalid and, like Raven, craved a good cross-country gallop.

The canal never strayed far from the road, and the farther south they traveled, the busier it became with the odd wheel-sided boats pulling others laden with everything from passengers to livestock. At midday they pulled up at a roadside tavern next to a set of locks. As usual, Cade and Karigan were left outside to wait while Luke swaggered his way into the tavern to dine.

“I hope he brings me something different than soup,” Karigan said.

“You’re hungry?”

“Yes,” she said, surprised to realize it was true.

“Good, you’re getting better.” The relief in his voice was palpable.

While they waited, they watched a pair of young men tend the locks, raising the water level between the gates so boats could continue from one elevation of the canal to the next. Cade tensed as two of the paddle boats, positioned side by side and each towing two packets filled with armed men in gray uniforms, came into view on the rising water.

“Who are they?” Karigan asked.

“Infantry of the imperial army.”

“Heading to Mill City?”

“That would be my guess.”

They watched as the boats, once at the proper level, chugged up the canal. Cade paced, keeping an eye on the locks, but when the lock keepers returned to their little gatehouse to take their ease, he appeared even more anxious.

“What is it?” Karigan asked.

“There should have been more.”

“More?” She tried to keep her voice low. “There were a lot of soldiers on those boats.”

“Not enough for a siege,” he replied.

She understood. If Mill City was not to be held under siege, it must mean his people had failed to take the city.

“They didn’t have an equipment barge or anything,” Cade said. “I’m thinking those troops are just for show, to help keep order in the city—to supplement the Inspector force, not to battle to regain control of it.”

Cade fell into a pensive silence, but even with his dire conclusions, Karigan could think only of her growling stomach. When Luke finally returned bearing their midday meals, she could have kissed him—instead of soup, he’d brought her a meat pie. She was so hungry she dug right in and missed Cade’s and Luke’s low but emphatic discussion, until she heard Luke say, “You spent too much time around the professor. His paranoia has rubbed off on you. You don’t even know if those soldiers were headed to Mill City.”

Which would be worse, she thought, because that meant Cade’s rebellion hadn’t gone off at all.

“Look,” Luke said, “we have no way of knowing what’s going on. You know how the Inspectors can suppress the spread of news. I’ve been keeping my ears and eyes open at our stops, but I haven’t picked up anything of interest yet.”

“I can’t help but worry,” Cade replied.

“Yes, that is the lot of those who would lead,” Luke said, “and while it is commendable, a good leader must also move forward. There is nothing we can do for our friends in Mill City, except fulfill our end of the plan. Or at least try.”

Cade’s shoulders sagged. “You are right.”

Luke smiled and clapped him on the back. “Good man.” Turning to Karigan, he asked, “How was your meat pie, young Tam?”

With some surprise, Karigan realized she had devoured the whole thing, even the burned pie crust edges. “Er, good.” She’d eaten so fast she couldn’t even remember tasting it.

“I’m glad to see your appetite improving. Harley, you best eat, too. We’ve a long haul ahead of us this afternoon.”

Karigan’s full belly and the warm afternoon left her drowsy, and she nodded off as the wagon gently swayed. As she drifted, she heard hoofbeats. Hoofbeats thrumming through her, making her heart hammer in rhythm. It was not the slow plod of the mules she heard but the rhythm of a messenger horse cantering. Raven whinnied, and she came to herself with a start, glancing about with bleary eyes. Oddly, she still heard the hooves. She had not been dreaming or imagining them.

In fact, they grew louder.

She sat up in time to see horse and rider pass by. The rider did not wear messenger green, but Inspector red. Still, she knew that intent look on the man’s face as he cantered by, and his sure, competent seat, and she knew a horse in good enough form to run long and hard. Even in this time and place, with all she knew turned upside down, she could pick out a fellow messenger. She reached beneath her jacket and caressed her brooch, feeling more homesick than ever.

The hoofbeats ebbed as the messenger put distance between them, but she remained so stirred by his passing that by the time they reached their inn for the night, she practically jumped out of the wagon and nearly fell into a pile of manure. She saved herself by grabbing the tailgate.