Cheese and Fashionable Hats
The goats knew their business.
Lark had been so distracted by Rion’s condition on the way up to Springhope she had barely noticed the trip.
But now, the treacherous terrain had her full attention.
She spent the first hour of the descent gripping the animal’s coarse fur with white-knuckled hands, certain that every switchback would send them both tumbling into the mist-shrouded depths below.
But the goat moved with the same patient surety it had shown on the way up, placing each hoof with precision, utterly unconcerned by the sheer drops on either side of the narrow trail.
By the second hour, she had relaxed enough to look around. By the third, she had to admit that the view was spectacular.
The mountains fell away below them in waves of gray and green, snow-capped peaks giving way to oak forests that clung to the slopes like stubborn moss.
In the distance, far below, she could make out the glint of water and the patchwork of fields that marked the lowland territories.
Somewhere down there was the Trader’s Way, the road that would carry them toward Summerbright and whatever waited for them there.
“Stop looking so tense,” Pippa called from behind her. “You’re making my goat nervous.”
“Your goat is asleep.”
“My goat is resting its eyes.” Pippa’s mount did indeed appear to be dozing, its head nodding with each step, navigating the treacherous path through what seemed to be pure instinct.
“Besides, we’ve been on these trails for hours.
If we were going to fall to our deaths, it would have happened by now. ”
“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”
“Nothing I say is as reassuring as I think it is. Ask Darian. He’ll tell you.”
From somewhere ahead, Darian’s voice drifted back. “She’s not wrong.”
Pippa made an indignant noise. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m on the side of honesty. That will forever be the burden I bear.”
Rion’s soft laugh reached Lark’s ears, and she felt a little lighter just hearing it. He was riding just ahead of her, his goat picking its way along a narrow section of trail, Noctis alongside with his tongue lolling. The wolf, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself.
“How are you doing?” she called to Rion.
He turned his head, that now-familiar adjustment to bring her into view with his remaining eye. The eyepatch looked less stark than it had in the first days, more like a part of him and less like a wound. “Better. The altitude change was giving me headaches, but they’re fading as we descend.”
“That’s the thin air,” Pippa said. “It affects everyone differently. On the way up, I was fine, obviously, but Darian was practically useless for the first day. Kept forgetting words. It was adorable.”
“I was not adorable. I was acclimating.”
“You called a spoon a ‘food stick.’”
“That was one time.”
“It was three times. I counted.”
Lark smiled despite everything. This was what she had missed during the long days in Springhope, when Rion had been locked away in healing and silence. The easy banter, the warmth of companionship, the sense that they were in this together even when everything was falling apart.
They had been expelled from a place that didn’t want them and were heading toward a city where Lark was wanted for murder. They had no allies, no resources beyond what they carried, and an enemy who would not stop until he had what he wanted.
And yet, she felt lighter than she had in weeks.
They made camp that first night in a sheltered hollow where the goat trail widened into something almost flat.
The goats, released from their burdens, wandered off to find whatever mountain vegetation appealed to them, apparently confident that their passengers could survive without supervision until morning.
“Will they come back?” Pippa asked, watching the animals disappear into the gathering dusk.
“They’ll come back.” Darian was already gathering wood for a fire. “Barrett said they know the routine. We feed them grain in the morning and they carry us for another day. It’s a business arrangement.”
“I’m not sure I trust a business arrangement with a goat.”
“Then you can walk tomorrow.”
Pippa considered this. “I guess I’m feeding the goats then.”
Lark helped Rion unpack the supplies, their movements falling into an easy rhythm. He was stronger than he had been even a week ago, the tremor in his hands almost entirely gone, his endurance improving with each passing day. The healers of Springhope had done their work well.
“Thank you,” she said as they spread bedrolls near the fire Darian was coaxing to life.
Rion looked at her, a question in his eye.
“For the letter. To Autumncrown.” She settled onto her bedroll, drawing her new gray cloak around her shoulders against the mountain chill. “I didn’t think of it. I should have, but I didn’t.”
“You had other things on your mind.” He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. “We all did. That’s why we work together.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Working together?”
“Among other things.” His voice was soft, meant only for her. “And I find I quite like them.”
She felt heat rise to her cheeks and was grateful for the fading light. Across the fire, she caught Pippa watching them with an expression of knowing amusement, but for once the other woman said nothing.
They ate a simple meal of travel bread and dried meat, supplemented by a hard cheese that Springhope had provided as part of their exile provisions. The irony was not lost on Lark. Here, have some cheese while we throw you out of our city.
“So,” Pippa said, licking crumbs from her fingers. “Two weeks to Summerbright, give or take. What’s the plan for when we actually get there?”
“We’ve discussed this,” Darian said.
“We discussed the broad strokes. I want details. Where exactly are Lark and I supposed to hide while you and Rion approach the enclave? What’s our contingency if things go wrong? How do we communicate across the city if we’re separated?”
“Lark and Darian,” Rion corrected. “You and I are approaching the enclave.”
Pippa blinked. “We are?”
“We are. This was your idea. You’re personable and non-threatening. I’m a scholar with valuable information. Lark is wanted for murder, and Darian looks like he could kill someone with a disapproving glance.” Rion shrugged. “It’s a simple division of labor.”
“I don’t look like that,” Darian said.
“You absolutely look like that,” Pippa told him. “It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”
Darian appeared uncertain how to respond to this, which Lark suspected was Pippa’s intention.
“The details will depend on what we find when we get there,” Lark said, steering the conversation back to practical matters. “I haven’t been to Summerbright in a while. Things may have changed. The guild territories might have shifted, the bolt-holes I knew might be gone.”
“Or they might be exactly where you left them,” Darian said. “Criminals are creatures of habit. The good hiding spots stay good.”
“You sound like you have experience with this.”
“I was a soldier for twenty years. You learn things.” He poked at the fire, sending sparks swirling into the darkness.
“We’ll assess when we arrive. Find a safe place for us to wait.
Establish communication protocols. And if everything goes wrong, we meet at a predetermined point outside the city and figure out our next move. ”
“And if everything goes right?” Pippa asked.
“Then we have allies. We have a chance.” Darian’s voice was quiet but firm. “It's worth the risk.”
The fire crackled between them, casting dancing light on the rocks that surrounded their camp. Above, stars were emerging, more than Lark had ever seen from within a city’s walls. The mountains rose around them, dark and silent, and somewhere in the distance a night bird called.
“We should sleep,” Rion said. “Tomorrow will be another long day of trying not to fall off a goat.”
“You say that like it’s difficult,” Pippa said. “I’ve been doing it splendidly.”
“Your goat is doing it splendidly. You’re just along for the ride.”
“And what a ride it is.”
They settled into their bedrolls, the fire banked low to last through the night. Darian took first watch, his solid form silhouetted against the stars as he found a position on a shelf of rock. Pippa was asleep within minutes, her soft breathing joining the night sounds of the mountain.
Lark lay on her back, stared at the sky, and tried to quiet her mind.
There was movement beside her as Rion shifted closer, his bedroll rustling against hers. His hand found hers in the darkness, fingers interlacing hers.
“Can’t sleep?” he murmured.
“Too much to think about.”
“Anything I can help with?”
She turned her head to look at him. In the dim light of the embers, his face was all shadows and planes, the eyepatch a dark slash across his features. He looked different from how he had when they first met. Harder. Marked by everything he had endured.
But his eye, when it met hers, was soft. Open in a way that made her heart ache.
“Just stay,” she said. “That helps.”
He shifted closer still until his body was pressed against her side, his arm draped across her waist. The heat of him seeped through her clothes, chasing away the mountain chill.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
She believed him. That was the strange thing.
Pippa had been right back on that terrace in Springhope. The walls that had kept her alive were the same ones that had kept her trapped. And now, lying in the darkness with Rion’s arm around her and his breath warm against her hair, she found she did not miss them.
Sleep came eventually, pulling her down into dreams that were, for once, not filled with blood and shadows. She dreamed of fire and warmth, of hands that held instead of hurt, of a voice that spoke her name as if it were something precious.
When she woke, the first light of dawn was creeping over the peaks, and Rion was still there.