Page 9 of Lake of Sorrow

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Page 9 of Lake of Sorrow

“Ssh.”

They couldn’t see the driver, but they were close to him now. Even a sleepy man would notice people talking behind him.

“Why would someone be taking newspapers into Port Jirador?” Frayvar asked. “The presses are in the city. Papers might be distributed out of Port Jirador—we get the Kingdom Chronicle all the way down in our islands, after all—but into it?”

Kaylina, worried her brother was musing too loudly, clasped a hand over his mouth.

Frayvar huffed but stopped talking, and they rode in silence. Her hand didn’t keep him from untying one of the bundles, removing a newspaper, and stuffing it into his wet shirt.

She almost said he was stealing, since he hadn’t left any coins, but the wagon was slowing down, the road noise quieting, and she dared not speak. She released Frayvar and eased aside the flap to lean out for a look. Just ahead, walls, watchtowers, and lights marked the eastern edge of the city.

A guard called out to the driver. “Stop to be searched.”

Kaylina was on the verge of telling Frayvar they needed to crawl under the wagon, but he’d wedged himself into a tight space between stacks of paper. She hesitated. It wouldn’t take a thorough search to find them, but maybe the guards wouldn’t investigate newspapers that closely. She squeezed in beside him.

A whinny sounded, followed by a whuff that belonged to a taybarri instead of a horse.

Two clinks followed as the tailgate fasteners were pulled out, and it clanked down. Kaylina grimaced and sank lower, afraid the guard was going to investigate the newspapers closely.

The wagon bed creaked as someone climbed in. A lantern shed light over the stacks, and she slumped in defeat, certain they would be caught.

“What is it?” a man outside asked.

The bed creaked again as whoever had climbed in leaned back out. “Looks like mining equipment that needs repairs.”

Kaylina frowned. What?

The taybarri whuffed again, and sniffing noises came from the side of the wagon.

“My mount thinks there’s something interesting in there.”

“Might be some food too.” The bed creaked as the speaker hopped down. He secured the pins and pulled down the flap. “Maybe a rat or two.”

“Taybarri aren’t mousers.”

“Your mount ate the label off a can of beans the other day. They don’t seem that particular.”

The other man—he had to be a ranger—grunted but didn’t ask more questions. The wagon rolled into motion, the horses pulling it through the gate and into the city.

“Fray,” Kaylina whispered. “Do you see any mining equipment in here?”

“I do not.”

She left her nook and opened the flap enough to peer out. A guard leaned by the gate, lantern dangling at his side, and the back end of a taybarri was also visible, its rider out of sight.

“What’s going on?” she wondered.

“Shenanigans.”

“That’s your educated opinion based on all the books you’ve read?”

“It is. For now.” Frayvar rattled the newspaper he’d taken.

Yeah, Kaylina wanted to see what it said too.

With no light inside the wagon, they had to wait for it to slow again. They took the first opportunity they could to climb out, slipping into an alley without being spotted.

Kaylina, mindful of Vlerion’s warning, tugged her damp hood over her head. As soon as the wagon was out of sight, and they made sure nobody was around to see them, they headed for a streetlamp.




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