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face, but forced herself not to. “Have yeh ever seen the King?”
    “Once,” said Mawrth. “Not up close, mind. I was there when he announced that he was lettin’ traders come in from Amoran.”
    “What was it like?” said Laela. “What was
he
like?”
    Mawrth paused to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve. “He looked ordinary, mostly. Young, but old. Wore a black robe, like a slave would. It’s said he never wears anythin’ else. An’ he had the Mighty Skandar with him, of course.”
    “The Mighty . . . you mean the griffin?”
    “Aye. The dark griffin. ‘Darkheart,’ some call him. By the moon, but that was a sight t’scare any man. I’ve seen griffins. Not up close, but I’ve seen ’em. But the Mighty Skandar is the biggest I ever saw in my life. They say he’s killed more people than any griffin in the world, an’ that his magic is so powerful, it could kill a whole army in one go. They say,” he added darkly, “they say he eats people. Enemies of the King.”
    Laela shivered. “People’re scared of him. The King, too.”
    “’Course they are,” said Mawrth. “Ye’d have t’be an idiot not t’be. But they protect us, Laela. See? They might be scary t’some, but without them, we’d be lost. It’s thanks t’them we’re free, an’ it’s thanks t’them we
stay
free, too. The Southerners outnumber us, but they’d never dare invade again. They’re too scared to, after what Skandar an’ the King did to their friends here all them years ago. An’ it’s a damn good thing, too.”
    Laela frowned to herself. It was odd to hear the King, who in the South was always spoken of with fear and hatred, referred to as a heroic protector. But, she supposed, it only made sense, after all . . .
    She travelled with Mawrth for nearly a week, and by the end of it she had come to like him. It was almost sad to say goodbye.
    “Good luck, Laela,” he said as he pocketed her money. “I hope ye find the new home ye’re lookin’ for.”
    She couldn’t stop herself from looking him in the face at last. “Thanks for everythin’, Mawrth. Yeh were a good friend.”
    Mawrth nodded and smiled. “It was my pleasure.”
    Laela walked away from his cart. He hadn’t shown any sign of noticing her blue eyes. Maybe he just hadn’t seen them. But then, who noticed the colour of someone’s eyes?
    That part of her journey didn’t just bring her much closer to Malvern—it also gave her even more confidence.
    And it showed her that her belief had been correct: Here in the North, she could blend in. Here, people treated her like an ordinary person—some of them were even friendly. Here she could make a new life—she knew it.
    •   •   •
    H er belief was confirmed over the next few weeks as a combination of money and the kindness of strangers made her journey quicker and easier. In one of the larger towns she passed through, she bought a new set of clothes—made in the thicker, warmer Northern manner. She even went so far as to enjoy a drink or two in a tavern, and aside from the usual drunken leering, no-one molested her.
    By the time Malvern’s walls came in sight, she had all but lost her fear. In fact, she had come to love the North. She had barely been there any time at all, but it already felt like home. Even her misery over her father had begun to leave her. He would be happy to know that she was safe, and that thought cheered her up.
    And then, at last . . . Malvern.
    She chose to go on foot for the last leg of the journey, wanting to see the famed city for the first time on her own. This was an experience she wanted all to herself.
    It was bigger, far bigger, than she had expected. At first it looked like a black blob, squatting on the horizon, but as she drew nearer and nearer, she began to get an idea of how enormous it really was.
    The city had walls around it, as she’d expected. They were enormous, built from stone, and she could see guards patrolling along its