ay to know. He had to follow the trail and hope.
And somehow, catch up too, which meant flying sooner or later. And flying might be too risky; he’d lose the trail if he flew too high. Too low and he’d be easily visible, another target for stray Steelhawks. “Nothing like being tested by the Gods,” he muttered as he slipped from the barn.
Time to decide.
Fly or walk.
The trail was easy to mark, the road had been churned and it looked as though a large force had passed along it. He’d probably see it from a fair distance up. For now, the Vadiya were travelling west, toward Ficcepa. Or perhaps they planned to change course where the Northern Highway reached down to intersect the Eastern Highway, and turn toward the ancient city of Olecsa? There was a substantial inn at the crossroads, the G
