“I have a stop to make on the way to the farm,” I told Sorrel once we had passed through the city. “There’s a metal box attached to a post at the cargo port in Raidho.”
“Oh, good. I need to stretch my legs, don’t you? Is the box far from here?”
“I’m not sure.”
We drove another hour, following the road that wound around the river, passing through the fishing village where I’d been arrested, and then a long stretch of empty fields and granite mines.
“We could plant cheather here,” Sorrel said. “Look at all the space.”
I’d been taken over with nervous energy. What if Papa was not at the farm when we arrived? My throat constricted and I nearly decided to avoid the stop in Raidho. But just at that moment, the port came into view. I turned the car onto the winding lane, which took us down a
