The overcast sky was fading from gray to blue when they finally stopped after the end of another long day in the saddle. Across the dark waters of the Vinrella, Desa saw a town of wooden buildings sprawling haphazardly along the opposite shore, and behind it, a forest of conifers that dwarfed every one of the small houses.
The lamps were lit, and she could even make out a few people walking along the street closest to the northern riverbank. A large wooden ferry was moored in the marina, but there was little chance that anyone would be coming across at this hour.
Her little group stood on the southern shore, near a second dock for the ferry, all staring wistfully across the river to the town on the other side. Thrasa was an odd village; cramped between a forest on one side and the Vinrel
