Carissa was going to be fine.

  The topical worked faster than even Mara had anticipated. Within an hour of application, the livid streaks spreading up the girl’s leg had receded and the rotting flesh began to slough off around the puncture site. By the end of the day, she was alert, albeit exhausted, and was able to eat a small supper of bread and stew. By the time Mara excused herself to put Nick to bed, Eli declared her well enough not to need monitoring through the night. When he told Mara to go to bed herself, she made no argument. She did, however, linger long enough to extract a promise that he, too, would turn in. It was perhaps the easiest such extraction she’d made since their escape from the city.

  Nick was happy to see her, but he didn’t cling, having apparently been entertained to his heart’s content in her absence. He fell straight to sleep when she laid him down, and she didn’t even remember lying down herself before she found herself in bed with Davy.

  Even in the dream, her exhaustion came through, and she made no effort to talk or even to rouse Davy from his slumber at her back. She merely snuggled deeper into the warmth of his body and listened to the breeze play in the branches outside the window, drifting in and out of deeper sleep, content in a way she hadn’t been since his death. Perhaps, if she was honest with herself, since before his death.

  Upon waking the next morning, Mara learned that there would be no time for celebration or reprieve. Shortly after breakfast, still muzzy headed, she found herself sitting at the kitchen table with Eli, Quint, and Farin. Vauntner had volunteered to play with Nick in the living room and Lev was looking after Carissa.

  Eli started by filling her and Quint in on Lev and Farin’s story. Farin, apparently, was somebody important in Prosco. Not the leader of the local rebel network, but something close to it. When the Order had cracked down, he’d gotten wind that they’d identified him as a key player and fled before he could be captured. Lev was his partner, Carissa for all intents and purposes their daughter–the orphan of some fallen friend that they’d taken in shortly after her birth. Mara wasn’t given the full story and didn’t ask. She also didn’t dare bring up the fact that she and her son were the reason the Order was cracking down in the first place.

  The more pressing concern was what to do now that they’d all found themselves at the guide’s outpost. Such a thing was apparently unheard of.

  “It’ll happen more often,” Eli said solemnly. “If things are as bad as Farin says, which I have no doubt they are, more emergency networks will be activated. Traffic is going to increase.” He gave Farin a tight smile and said something in Trellish, perhaps paraphrasing what he’d just told Mara and Quint, and the other man dipped his chin in affirmation.

  “We can’t sustain that.” Quint grimaced, scratching idly at his beard. “We only have ten amulets and we’re only equipped to out outfit twenty travelers per quarter for the follow-on journey.”

  Eli asked Farin a question and winced at the answer. “There’ll be more than that coming, from Prosco alone. Farin’s entire cell was compromised. That’s two more families at least, if they escape. More if they don’t and their capture compromises more cells. I’m surprised there haven’t been more already. You need to resume checks at the falls. Hopefully we haven’t missed any arrivals.”

  “We haven’t. There’s alarm wards. We mostly do the checks to stretch our legs and keep the route from getting overgrown.”

  With a nod, Eli turned to Farin and said a few brusque words that made the man’s face tighten, first with brief displeasure and then with resolve. He nodded sharply and, with a polite nod to Mara and Quint, rose and left the room.

  “What did you tell him?” Mara asked.

  “To get his family ready to go. We’re leaving at dawn tomorrow.”

  Mara straightened in her chair. “What? All of us?”

  “All of us. We can’t stay here. If things are as bad at Prosco as Farin says, Vauntner and Quint will need the space we’re taking.”

  “What about Carissa?”

  “She’s already up and moving around. As long as she keeps eating I can have her well enough to travel by the end of the day. And we’ll be there to take care of her.”

  Mara nodded and turned to Quint. “What do you need from us?”

  Quint merely stared at her. Mara looked to Eli, who was also staring, albeit with less bafflement and more knowing amusement.

  “What?”

  “No argument?” he asked.

  “Why would I argue when you’re talking sense?” Once again directing her attention to Quint, she repeated her question. “What do you need from us? When we get to the Enclave, what can we do to help?”

  Giving his head a little shake, Quint drummed his fingers on the tabletop in thought. “We stock everyone who passes through with trail food and gear. We can scale back on the food, but the gear is a necessity. Sending folks into the pass without it would be as good as killing them, and we’re reliant on the Enclave for resupply.”

  “Send a bird today,” Eli said. “One to headquarters, one to Bri. We’ll be prepared to argue the case if there’s push back.”

  “What about in the long-term?” Mara asked. “An emergency resupply doesn’t seem like a sustainable solution. Or is it?” Feeling abruptly uncertain and out of her depth, she looked to Eli and was relieved to find him nodding in unspoken support of her question.

  Quint seemed to agree as well. “It’s not, no. Not unless we make major changes to the way this outpost functions. We’re designed for self-sufficiency. All the provisions we receive are to send out with travelers. Not to mention we have limited space, limited amulets, limited contact with headquarters…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

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  “We don’t need to solve it all today,” Eli said. “Send the bird for early restock, and ask about more amulets. This place is still a closely guarded secret, not to mention hard to reach. It’s not as if you’ll have a horde on your doorstep tomorrow.”

  Quint pushed a hand through his hair, looking harried. “Not tomorrow, no. What about next week?”

  “Not next week, either. We have time. When Mara and I reach the Enclave, we’ll push to dedicate a team to growing the operation here.”

  Mara’s mind didn’t know what to do about the way he grouped them together into a ‘we.’ She’d been the first to do it, but his adoption of it felt significant. Like he was accepting her earlier offer of assistance, her declaration of loyalty. It took her aback, and not in an unpleasant way.

  Quint straightened in his chair. “Vauntner should lead it. His rotation is up soon anyway, but I know for a fact he wants to come back. He loves it here and he’s a stickler about the details. He’s the best person for the job.”

  “Okay.” Eli nodded, gaze drifting out of focus. “Anybody else you think will want the job? Anyone who has seniority? I don’t want to set him up for failure with a power struggle.”

  “You can ask Bri, but nobody I can think of. You’ll have to assign someone with volume to act as his second, though. He’s got leadership potential, but he’s too tentative as yet. Kid couldn’t strong arm a baby.”

  Movement drew their attention to the doorway, where Vauntner stood with Nick’s hand clasped in his. “I have ears,” he said crossly.

  “Come sit.” Eli pulled out Farin’s vacated chair. “We should have pulled you into this earlier.”

  Vauntner joined them, and they spent the next hour talking through immediate needs. Well, they did. Nick grew bored within ten minutes sitting at the adult table and Mara, despite desperately wanting to stay in the conversation, recognized that she had the least to offer and excused herself to take him outside.

  The remainder of the day was spent preparing for their departure. From a large shed behind the cottage, Quint and Vauntner unearthed supplies that made Mara’s chest go hollow with dread–trail provisions suitable to see them through weeks more on the road. Thick, waterproofed sleeping rolls. Heavy canvas shelters. Snow shoes. Gaiters. Thick, fur-lined parkas. Gloves. Knit hats.

  Mara was no stranger to snow. The storms that blew off the Trinity regularly blanketed the Capital abd she’d spent many a deep winter day trudging through powder up to her knees.

  But she’d never had to sleep in it.

  She almost said something, until she saw the looks Lev and Farin were exchanging as they accepted their own portion of the offerings. White-lipped and tense-jawed, they had the look of men who were marching to the gallows.

  “What’s the weather like in Prosco?” Mara asked Eli beneath her breath as the two men carried the gear, shoulders slumped, back to the cabin.

  “Warm. Dry.” When she looked up at him, he smiled. “They’ll be alright. They’re strong. And they’ve got us.”

  Us. We. Again. Unprompted.

  She liked it more than she ought to.

  After depositing the gear in her room, Mara took Nick to meet Carissa. Apparently the girl–a year older than Nick–had friends who spoke Provincial, so she knew enough that she and Nick would be able to interact. Although, being children, they’d probably be able to communicate even without a common language.

  Lev and Farin had brought their daughter out to the sitting room, where she sat between them wrapped in blankets, playing with the same deck of cards to which Nick had grown dangerously attached over the last several days. Her son hadn’t played with another child since Cinder, and even before that he hadn’t had many playmates. What if he had bad manners? What if he tried to take the cards?

  Stomach twisting, she looked down when Nick tugged on her hand, looking up at her with bright, hopeful eyes.

  “Who is that?”

  Mara crouched. “That’s Carissa, love. She’s going to be traveling with us for a while. Would you like to go say hello?”

  Nick nodded so hard it gave Mara a headache, and she nudged him forward. “Go on.”

  Casting her one last look to gather reassurance, Nick hurried across the room to the couch.

  “I’m Nick,” he said, pointing at the cards in her lap. “Those are my cards.”

  Carissa looked at him with wide, dark eyes. Then she looked up at Lev, to her right. Farin to her left. The two men looked at Mara. Mara looked at Nick. Undeterred, Nick pointed at the cards again.

  “Those are mine.”

  “Do you want to play?” Carissa’s voice was sweet and soft, her smile uncertain.

  Nick shrugged. It was a clumsy mimicry of Eli’s shrug–the right shoulder coming up a little higher, head dipping to the right. “Yeah.”

  “You know Caps and Boots?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mara was certain that Nick didn’t know the rules to Caps and Boots. But she was also certain that Carissa didn’t know the rules to Caps and Boots either, so it didn’t really matter.”

  Fighting a smile, she watched as Lev helped his daughter to the floor, where she and Nick set about haphazardly divvying up the playing cards and trading nonsense rules. A presence materialized at her elbow, and she knew without looking who it was.

  “What are the odds they make it through a round without becoming mortal enemies?” she asked.

  “Pretty good.” Eli hitched a shoulder against the wall with a friendly, acknowledging nod at Farin. “Nick’s convinced that the object of the game is to lose and his favorite part of the game is throwing his cards in and yelling ‘I cede.’ As long as Carissa likes to win, they’ll get along fine.”

  Laughing, Mara turned toward him, leaning her own shoulder against the wall for support. “Did you pack already?”

  “Just finished. You?”

  “Haven’t started. I’ll be honest, the amount of snow gear has me nervous.”

  “Don’t lose too much sleep over it. This time of year, we won’t need it for the whole journey. Just a bit in the middle.”

  Mara groaned. “More vague nonsense.”

  “Mm. Imagine how anxious you’d be if I suddenly started giving you details.” He straightened, face breaking into a pained smile. “Your son has thrown his first round of Caps and Boots.”

  Mara followed his gaze and found Carissa giggling, Nick grinning, the cards a messy pile between them. Lev caught her eye with a smile, his own gaze watery, and Mara knew the relief he must be feeling. Finally, after however long they’d been on the run, a friend for his child. A companion in games too magical for adults to comprehend. She felt the same weight lift from her own shoulders, along with several others she hadn’t even known were pressing down so heavily–

  She hadn’t, in the trauma of Davy’s death or the years of lost practice that preceded it, lost her ability to function as a physik.

  Her son had manners enough, at least, to play a card game with a child his age without having a meltdown.

  She had some goal, however small, to accomplish upon arrival at the Enclave. Some sense of purpose.

  Maybe it was presumptuous. Maybe she was tempting fate. But maybe, maybe, she really was going to be alright.