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convoy men don’t. But Pello spies on merchant houses for a living. He’ll have something, all right. Maybe not powerful enough to send more than a few words, but with the right codes, that’s all you need.”
    “Oh.” Kiran swallowed, hard. “That would be...unfortunate.” He fiddled with his reins, then burst out with, “Once we cross the border, I don’t care what messages Pello sends. But if news of me reaches Ninavel before then, it’ll...it’ll ruin everything!”
    I glared at him. “If you’d told me how unfortunate back when I asked, I would’ve done a hell of a lot more to hide you.” A disguise charm powerful enough to wholly alter a man’s appearance cost the moon, especially on such short notice, but I could have demanded Bren produce a second advance.
    Kiran flushed and looked down. “I’m sorry. I thought if I stayed anonymous leaving the city, I wouldn’t have to worry about word getting back...” One hand rubbed his chest, over his heart, in an odd, nervous gesture. “What do we do?”
    I sighed. “For now, you act your part, and stay clear of Pello. His charm’s likely only strong enough to send one message, maybe two. He won’t use it unless he’s sure he’ll profit.” Meanwhile, I’d have to come up with a plan to cover that scenario. Great. Pello was no fool, and as a shadow man, his experience dwarfed mine in fighting dirty. I scowled all the harder at Kiran. “Anything else you’d like to share, before it bites us in the ass?”
    He shook his head, still staring at his saddle horn. Not exactly a response to inspire confidence. I leaned over and grabbed his reins. The gelding cast a reproachful eye at me as I yanked him to a stop. Kiran jerked his head up, blue eyes gone wide.
    “You want to reach Alathia safe and sound, with no one the wiser? I can make that happen, but only if you tell me what I need to do my fucking job. Understand?”
    “Yes.” He had the solemn, earnest look of a Tainter being chided by his minder. I flung his reins back in his lap.
    “Remember: lay low. Don’t do anything to draw attention, from Pello or anyone else. And stick close to me—don’t give him a chance to get you alone.” If Pello forced Kiran into conversation, I gave Kiran five minutes tops before Pello sniffed out his highside origins.
    He nodded, still all serious and intent. I aimed my horse straight at the gully’s steep side. Time to play out the role of off-trail riding lesson, in case any curious eyes were watching. In the meantime, I could ponder what I’d learned from our little conversation. So far I’d mostly gained a whole new set of questions. Chief among them: who or what back in Ninavel had Kiran jumping like a frightened snaprat?
    ***
    (Kiran)
    “Here. Have some breakfast.” Dev tossed Kiran a lump of bread.
    Kiran nearly fumbled the catch in the dim predawn light. He’d never seen a more unappetizing meal. The bread was dense as rock and studded with unidentifiable dark chunks he could only hope signified dates or nuts. A far cry from his usual fare of cinnamon spice cakes drizzled with peachflower honey, or perhaps savory rolls with diced kelnar nuts...his stomach rumbled.
    Dev wore the little one-sided grin suggesting he knew exactly what Kiran was thinking. “Eat up, Kellan. You’ll need your strength.” He jerked a thumb at the horses they’d just finished saddling.
    Kiran smothered a groan. His groin and legs already protested every time he moved. The memory of his blithe certainty the day before about the ease of physical labor was a bitter one.
    Dev chuckled heartlessly. “Hurts, does it? Don’t worry, you’ll feel better after a few days. Just remember to stretch your muscles out like I showed you, any time we take a break.” He stuffed a chunk of bread in his mouth and heaved a supply sack onto the wagon.
    Despite the deceptively gradual ascent out of the Painted Valley, the convoy had climbed higher than the tallest towers of the city before