Hedrovan was an ugly city. Not majestic like Aladar or functional like Ofalla. It was a place where square, stone buildings lined each side of muddy streets, spaced apart at haphazard intervals. The roads weren’t even paved. Horse-drawn carriages kicked up a spray of muck as they passed.
Tommy plodded along with a burlap sack cradled in one arm, a suitcase full of clothes in his opposite hand. His mouth dropped open when he looked upon the city.
The rain had stopped – and thank the Almighty for that – but the streets were still a mess. Sometimes, barefoot people in ratty clothes would dash out from an alley, and sometimes, they would pause to eye Tommy and his friends. Tommy could see the calculations in those stares. Were these six strangers who carried travel bags and sacks full of foo
