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warning, and the battle at Summer’s End.  Each new fact made Neve’s jaw drop a little more.
    Sylvia wondered what it would have been like if Gero had accepted Greyling’s demand for submission—if she would have been as oblivious as Neve, their whole city kept in the dark and blindly following Skycity’s instructions.  But if all three cities had given in, then it would be the fifth city that was in danger.
    She was sure Greyling’s true campaign of terror would have surfaced at some point—surely even the cities that willingly submitted to him would suffer.  Food supplies and medical treatments would decline if everyone in the city was forced to do labor, and she was sure Greyling’s plan didn’t include fair treatment of his workers.
    He seemed to have been set back with Meadowcity’s refusal, though, since apparently he needed to wait for a sufficient amount of boats to launch whatever scheme he was brewing.
    Sylvia couldn’t possibly imagine what the fifth city would be like, or why Greyling would risk so much to obtain it.  She hoped she could convince them to offer some help if they could—they seemed to be the indirect cause of it all, anyway.
    After a wide space of silence, they quietly agreed that Sylvia would take first watch, and Neve second.  The Lightcity girl ducked under a blanket and her cloak, wedged against a fallen tree for warmth.
    Sylvia purposefully shunned her blanket, needing the cold to help stay alert.  She sat propped against a tree, and pulled out her new dagger to examine the carvings again in the cold moonlight.
    There had been a short note inside the box Ven had given her: A piece of Meadowcity, from me to you.  She figured he had carved it from some of the fallen trimmings of the treewall.  It was a marvelous gift.
    She shrugged her shoulders tighter on herself as she thought of Ven.  Now that her original mission to Lightcity had been so easily rearranged, she truly couldn’t predict where the war would take her next, nor what would happen between her and Ven.  She didn’t even know when she would return to Meadowcity.
    They had passed Meadowcity only the other day, and Sylvia had briefly entertained the idea of sending Neve there to let them know her change of plans; but it wouldn’t be smart—or safe—to send the girl on her own through the wilds.  Not when so many beasts lurked in the forest.
    Sylvia had finally given Neve a blade the other day, perhaps so that Neve would feel safe, or because Sylvia thought she could use all the help she could get if something went wrong.
    She studied the wolf’s head dagger, her ears alert for any sound of danger.  Ven’s carving was beautiful.  The wolf’s jaw hung open, with tiny teeth rising out of its mouth.  She knew Ven carved in his spare time, but she had never expected anything this good.
    Maybe there was a lot she didn’t know about him.
    She let out a sigh, refusing to let herself feel guilty for her tepidity with him.
    It’s better this way , she told herself.  Not making any promises meant not hurting anyone’s feelings if things changed.  And her world was full of change right now.
    In a bitter mood she went back to dutifully studying the dark woods around them.  The Scouts’ fires glowed dimly orange through the black silhouettes of trees that separated the two camps.
    Eventually it was time to wake Neve for her watch.  The girl took out the knife Sylvia had given her and sat in the shadow of a tree, a fierce gleam in her eye.  The girl looked wide awake.
    Sylvia finally curled up under her blanket.  She pulled her hands into the sleeves of her knit jacket, with one hand still gripping the hilt of her dagger.  She fell asleep on the forest floor, with silence and darkness pressing in all around her.

 
    Eight
     
    It was dawn when a strange feeling made Sylvia wake.  With her heart inexplicably racing, she opened her eyes as she unsheathed the dagger she had held while sleeping.
    Neve was