Onna felt sweat trickling down her back beneath her shawl. Oh, that Jevran, she fumed.

Never mind that he was a good-hearted boy, beneath all that bluster. This time, something nasty in his drink at supper would be far too good for him. She heartily flicked the reins on the horse’s back. Imagine, talking her, a ninety-year-old woman—though she’d never admit that aloud—into smuggling Varian out of the castle!

Onna rolled her eyes. “Only for the love of his mother,” she murmured, eyeing the castle gate. Two guards stood on either side, looking stiff and formal in their uniforms. Hmph. Well, they certainly looked official. Would they act official as well, and asked to see below the tarp of her small wagon?

Jevran had counted on the fact that she went in and out of the gates several times a day, all in the same wagon with the same tarp. Well, he’d better be right. Otherwise, she’d make sure he could bail her out. Or else.

And believe me, boy, you don’t want Onna saying ‘or else’ to you.

She stopped at the gate and smiled as one of the guards came up to her. “Hello, Toym. How’s the wife?”

Toym beamed. “Just fine, Miss Onna. Doing better every day, and the little one too. We’re awful grateful to you. The missus says she believes the birth wouldn’t have gone half so well if you hadn’t been there.”

“Well, good news all around. My niece in Tymmry is with child, and she wants me to come help with the birth. I’ll be gone for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months.”

“We’ll miss you, Onna. Before you go…”

Onna tensed her shoulders. Jevran, if I’m caught…

“Do you have any more of that licorice root candy? I think you put something addictive in it.”

Onna laughed and fished out a small bag of the candy that she kept in the bag at her feet. “Here, Toym. You’re almost as bad as a child!”

She flicked the reins again and drove away, sighing. Thank you, God.

As she drove through the village, Onna’s mood quickly lightened. The day was bright, the sunshine strong but not so strong that it made her uncomfortable. Altogether it was a very pleasant day at the beginning of summer.

Onna looked to her right. She could easily see the rolling, grassy-golden hills, marking where the Highlands began. And beyond the hills, so far away that they were seemed some fairy thing composed of mist, rose the Belria Mountains. Home to Highlanders, dragons, and who knew what else.

She shivered and faced the road ahead. The Lowlanders, with their warm, pleasant seasons most of the year, malignantly called winter the “plague of the mountains.” She had traveled in those mountains extensively at one time, and she knew better than most Lowlanders just why their name for winter fit.

Once they were out of the village, on a dirt wagon track that wound around fields of barley and wheat, Onna reached back and pulled off the tarp. “Ssh, Varian!” she hissed.

Varian sat up, his eyes darting around until he was certain that no one was lurking. Then he clambered out of the wagon.

Onna eyed him and sighed. “Have everything? Your backpack, sword?”

Varian nodded.

“The medicine box I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember everything’s uses? I won’t be there to help you if you take the wrong thing, you know.”

“The red fern for stomach pains, the green yanelli leaves for sores and cuts, and the orange yanelli leaves for headaches.”

“Right. Now…” Onna pointed to the west. “You see that tall mountain there? Mount Arborn it’s called. Keep a straight line with it, and you’ll soon hit Kerrin’s village.”

“Kerrin’s village? How do you know where he came from?” Varian interrupted.

Onna chuckled. His eyes were squinting in that funny way he had when he was puzzled. “I’ve known Kerrin longer than you’ve been born, young man. In fact, I think I was the one who helped him into this world. Squalling like a winter’s storm, he was. Why do you think I was so eager to help him escape?”

“You’ve been to the Highlands before, and you never told me?”

“Why should I? I’m entitled to my own secrets, even if my clients are kings and royalty!” Onna gathered the reins in her hands and slapped the horse’s rump. “When you get to the village, ask for Jokk. Tell him I sent you, and you’ve had to flee for your life from the Lowlands. In fact, tell him the whole story. You’ll be mighty surprised, I’m sure.”