A crackling campfire sent tiny flickers of flame up to an overcast sky. The night was cool, but at least it wasn’t raining. Desa felt exposed, sitting in the middle of an open field with no one but Kalia and Midnight for company. The stallion waited patiently at the edge of the firelight with their packhorse. At first glance, he almost seemed eager to press on, but Desa knew that he would appreciate the rest. They had been traveling hard for the last six days. Soon, they would reach the northern shores of Ithanar.
Desa knelt in the grass with her coat off and the sleeves of her blouse rolled up, heat from the flames leaving sweat on her brow. “We’ll make an early start tomorrow,” she said. “If all goes well, we’ll reach the Halitha in a few days.”
Kalia stood on the other side of the fir
