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the floor, their bodies pressed together in the narrow space between the seats.
    The man outside raised his hand again, and this time there was a rock in it, and it smashed against the glass so hard that it cracked. But before he could strike again, a guard grabbed him, pulling him away with a force that yanked his shoulder back at an unnatural angle. Another guard joined the first, who pinned the struggling man’s head in the crook of his leather-armored elbow, and the second guard struck him full in the face, blood flying out as the man’s nose was crushed. A third guard appeared, and the man, who was thin and weak from hunger, had no chance at all. One of the guards drew his sword, and before the man could take another breath, the guard slit his throat. He doubled over, his life spilling down his chest, mingling with the rain that still fell, unceasingly, from the sky.
    It was a crime punishable by death to attack the King, and the royal mark was painted on every one of the coaches in that caravan.
    Inside the battered carriage, huddled on the floor, Taisin felt her heart pound from shock. Kaede was crowded so close to her that Taisin could feel the other girl’s muscles as tense as a drawn bowstring. Suddenly the door was wrenched open, and Kaede’s father was standing outside, the rain running down his face. He hadn’t bothered to put on a cloak. “Are you all right?” His voice was rough with panic. Behind him three guards stood with their swords drawn, and beyond them the body of the attacker was slumped on the muddy road.
    “We’re fine,” Kaede said, her voice shaking.
    “Blasted idiots!” Lord Raiden shouted, and spun toward the guards. “You paid no attention!” he snarled. “This cannot happen again. Next time it will be one of you who is dead.” He slammed the door of the carriage shut, and the cracked glass shattered completely, letting in the rain. Lord Raiden threw up his hands and ordered, “Fix this!”
    Kaede began to get up, and Taisin realized that she was gripping Kaede’s hand with white fingers. Heat rushed through her and she dropped Kaede’s hand as if it were a live coal. Kaede turned to her, a strange look on her face, and then the guards came to sweep the glass out of the carriage. Taisin pulled herself onto her seat, avoiding Kaede’s eyes. A man had just been killed scarcely ten feet away, and yet all she could think of was the jolt that went through her when she felt Kaede’s hand in hers. She had reached for her without any awareness of what she was doing. Was it already happening? Was her vision already coming true?
    Taisin set her jaw stubbornly to prevent it from trembling. She deliberately gazed out the broken window, where the guards were carrying the body of the dead man toward the side of the road. Others approached with shovels, and they began to dig a grave in the soft ground. None of them had any idea who he was, and they would never find out. After the guards rolled him into the earth, they marked the grave with a circle of stones, and the caravan departed.

    Eight days after they left the Academy, the road widened and flat paving stones replaced hard-packed dirt. The coaches picked up their pace, and the King’s guards were able to relax just slightly. After the attack, there had been repercussions all around. The guards had been ordered to increase their vigilance, and now no one was allowed to leave the caravan unprotected. Kaede and Taisin were sent off with two female guards if they needed to stop at the side of the road, and though the guards turned their backs, Taisin especially chafed at the indignity of it. Kaede, who was more accustomed to being followed by servants, still had never experienced this level of interference in her daily life. She did her best to pretend as though it was entirely ordinary: traveling with the King, being surrounded by armed guards at every moment, riding in a carriage with a window covered by an oilcloth where it had been