Twenty: The Ghost City of Damoyne

Laura’s teeth rattled as the bisox wagon clattered over a rough patch of creetrock. The rest of the convoy, following in her wake, became a jittering blur. Beside her, Mary held Baby Grace against her chest. . . .

Twenty-Two: Badger Creek

The whole convoy was quiet, but no one was quieter than Caleb the Ortega guardsman. As they approached the crossroads to Badger Creek, the young man’s silence stood out, even amid all the other silences. . . .

Twenty-Three: When the Sap Rises

It was a cold night. The elevation, that was part of it. The Great Eighty Road had sloped upwards all day, gently but steadily, and Laura supposed that they were camped higher up than they had been for some time. Even so, no one seemed prepared for the sudden chill. . . .