The road from Shadow Valley descended precipitously through a narrow pass choked with imperium and sicklebark, so steep and treacherous that most travelers cried out with relief as they emerged onto the plain’s boggy highway and its proliferation of potholes.

  Kaddie’s head collided with the door of the carriage as it rattled and lurched over the uneven road. “Crone’s toenails.”

  “I told you to keep away from the window,” her mother scolded.

  “But I wanted to see.”

  “There’s nothing to see. Not yet. Gads, you have the patience of your grandmother, and her temper.”

  Scowling, Kaddie leaned back against the carriage’s tattered upholstery. She folded her arms across her chest. They had started early and were now a full morning into their journey to the city of Terohas, with an entire afternoon to endure before they arrived at the city walls, and having emerged from Shadow Pass they were now crossing a wide expanse, its horizon hidden by a haze of mist. She’d thought to catch a glimpse of the crops that were grown on this particular stretch but they had already been harvested and the ground appeared muddy and dormant. Thus far, with the exception of a few goats, she’d seen nothing of interest.

  Closing her eyes, she attempted to think about nothing, hoping the steady thrum of the carriage would to lull her to sleep, but it was impossible. She was far too anxious. Her mother was anxious, too, wringing the folds of her skirt and for the most part staying silent, which was very unlike her. Outside, the mist rendered everything featureless. The journey seemed never-ending until the toll of a distant bell inspired her attention.

  Abruptly, her mother gripped her hand. “Tell me your name.”

  “Kaddie Loxton.”

  “Spell it out.”

  “I know how to spell it.”

  “Do it.”

  “No. I won’t forget,” Kaddie said. “I never forget.”

  “Make sure you don’t. The name Lowndes does not exist inside the city walls, do you hear?”

  “Yes, Mother.” She heard voices and risked another peek out of the window. Finally, they had arrived at the city’s outskirts—the Flats—where a man was holding a long pole toward the carriage, its extremity decorated with slivers of cooked meat. His face shifted from hope to something darker as they rode by. Other vendors appeared on the route touting all manner of goods—sacks of cherries, leather purses—all offered for sale at the side of the road, and they hadn’t even reached the city walls, yet.

  The road’s surface shifted abruptly from packed dirt to stone cobbles, and the carriage began to rattle so hard she thought it would fall apart.

  “This is a mistake,” her mother said. She was still holding her daughter’s hand and her grip strengthened considerably. “I’ll tell the driver.”

  “No. It’s okay. Please, don’t fuss, I’ll be fine.”

  “Do you have the letter? They won’t let you through the gate without the letter.”

  “In my coat.”

  “Have you checked?”

  “Yes. Mother, let go.” Kaddie massaged her crumpled fingers as her mother expelled a loud breath and went back to clutching her skirts.

  Outside, the tolling bell grew louder and the inside of the carriage was assailed with the torrid scents of cooked offal, chicken dung, and latrines. They had now joined a line of carriages heading for the city gate and had slowed considerably. Kaddie avoided eye contact with the growing crowd at the side of the road. She had never seen so many people milling about; never seen so many ugly ramshackle buildings crammed together. As for the stench—

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  “Will it be like this in the city?”

  “No. Once inside the walls, things will be very different.” Her mother leaned out of the window for a moment. “Almost there.” She reached forward, tears in her eyes, and embraced her daughter, her hands like claws digging into Kaddie’s shoulders.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kaddie repeated. She was on the edge of tears, too, until all of a sudden, the carriage drew to a halt, her heart sank into her boots, and her mother was all business.

  “Do you remember everything your grandmother told you?”

  “That he’s a miserable old goat and a fraud?” On seeing her mother’s frown she quickly added, “To work hard, watch and learn, and make good friends.”

  “And keep your head down, do not get involved in anything, and don’t forget to write.”

  The driver’s boy was opening the carriage door and extending the steps. This was it. Kaddie’s feet were unsteady as she climbed down onto the busy street where her bag was waiting. The bell had stopped ringing and people were beginning to run.

  Her mother blew her a kiss. “He’ll see you to the gate.”

  She patted the pocket of her coat, making sure she had the letter, and her sickle. Having sharpened the small, curved blade thoroughly before sliding it into the confines of its scabbard in the early hours before they’d set off, its presence brought some manner of calm as she gripped the handle of her rucksack and began to walk.

  It was so busy, that in no time at all she had lost sight of the carriage, and her mother. The city walls loomed directly ahead, so tall she could see nothing beyond them, inspiring the memory of her grandmother’s warnings whenever they were traveling. “It’s dangerous, and there’s nothing for the likes of us in there,” she’d said, over and over, only to do a complete turn about and persuade Kaddie’s mother and father that this was the best place she could be. Kaddie certainly knew her mother wasn’t convinced, hence the idea to obscure and lie about her true family name of Lowndes.

  The road proved gritty and damp underfoot. Smoke drifted through the crowd and she wrinkled her nose.

  “The driver says you have a job, here.” The young man escorting her looked about her age, maybe a little less, and wasn’t quite as tall. “I’ll work here, someday,” he added. “Inside the walls, I mean.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jim.”

  “I’m Kaddie.” A stranger pushed by, almost knocking her off her feet and allowing her scowl to reemerge. He was quickly followed by another, and another. “Maiden’s fingers, why is everyone running?”

  “That bell you heard was the last call.”

  “Should we be running, too?”

  “Nah, you’ll see. You have a letter, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll get through easy. Just keep a tight hold on that bag, and follow me.”

  Already warned by her anxious mother, Kaddie was gripping her bag’s handles as if her life depended on it and she couldn’t help notice the occasional furtive glance toward her belongings as Jim led her past a boisterous line of people waiting to enter the city. Furious, she looked them in the eye. She might be a travel-worn girl in country clothes, but they’d soon learn not to mess with her.

  It began to rain and her companion urged her to pick up speed. Mud splashed her boots and spattered the hem of her coat as they dashed through the growing torrent. Thankfully, partial shelter was offered within the shadow of the wall and in no time at all they were standing before an imposing, barrel-chested guardsman blocking a much narrower entrance alongside the main gate.

  She lost sight of her letter as it was passed through a hatch. She heard the guard and whoever held the document whispering, but couldn’t tell what they were saying. Finally—

  “In you go.” The guard returned her piece of paper, now damp and crinkled, and gave her a resounding push. He turned to Jim. “No letter? Best be off then, eh?”

  Jim waved and disappeared into the crowd before she had time to say goodbye.

  The city wall was so thick she had to walk through a tunnel in order to reach its other side. Lilac conorum lanterns flickered and hummed above her head. She could feel the wall’s weight, bearing down, threatening to crush her, and when she finally emerged, it was to a much heavier downpour.

  Others were entering from the larger gate to her left, dashing by in an effort to reach shelter. They were running in all directions and for a moment she became disoriented. Which way was she supposed to go? Straight on, her grandmother had said, and then right at the square and along Toch Avenue. But it was raining so hard it was becoming difficult to see anything of the city’s streets.

  Water was hammering hard on adjacent rooftops, pouring ebulliently into the gutters below, and in the end she had no other choice but to dash forth like everyone else, taking shelter beneath the eaves of various dwellings until she reached the square. A turn to the right along an avenue that was rendered featureless in the storm, and it was a relief to discover a rain-slicked sign hanging in front of a tall, narrow building, its walls painted black as pitch.

  Quickly, Kaddie lifted the metal knocker and hammered it repeatedly against the door. She was soaked to the skin. The straps on her knapsack were sawing into her shoulders and rain was drifting beneath her hood and trickling down the back of her neck.

  There was no answer. She counted to seven and tried again, and on this occasion she thought she heard a voice in the midst of her hammering. “What was that?” she called out. She leaned closer. Water continued dripping beneath her collar and she felt her temper rising.

  “I said we’re closed,” announced a young male voice from beyond the door.

  Kaddie pulled the bag from her shoulders and dropped it on the step. “Well, you’d better let me in. I’m Kaddie Loxton, the poisoner’s new apprentice.”