The disguises worked better than Kite could have hoped for. It wasn't that she expected to be recognised as the woman who escaped Vorannen's private jail, but she had thought that sooner or later someone would point out that the outfits from Hebros matched nothing they'd ever seen before, or worse, that they did look like something they'd seen before, followed by a question about a culture or tradition she knew nothing about. But night after night, she and Saryth found themselves somewhere to stay, and they performed, and people enjoyed the music and the storytelling. She knew they expected her to dance, but there were limits.

The night of the invitation was the same as all the others. They'd come across a group of people from multiple travelling groups, all sharing a campsite, and all very happy to offer a bit of space around the central firepit to two travelling entertainers. They'd had a good meal too, even before they fulfilled their end of the bargain. She finished playing to satisfying applause and shouts of "Bravo!" and "More!" Saryth was even smiling, just a bit.

"So where are you folks headed?" asked the man in charge of the beer, refilling their mugs.

"Rathnacarrick," Kite said.

"For the summer festival?"

"That would be good, if we can get there in time."

"It's going to be interesting this year," chimed in a younger man from the other side of the circle. "Vorannen's got a right bee in his bonnet over that mage."

"Mage?" Kite tried to relax, to act curious instead of wary.

"He killed a soldier and escaped," the man with the beer jug interrupted, "and then came back and rescued a girl. He's a hero!" Saryth nearly dropped the mug Kite had pressed into his hands.

"I see," she said.

"Even though he killed a soldier?" Saryth said. He was scowling, although much of it was hidden behind the blindfold. "With magic?"

"Oh come on!" A third man broke in, angry. "It was self-defence! How can you say -"

The woman next to him put one hand on his arm. "Steivan, they're foreigners. They wouldn't understand."

"I suppose."

"We should get some sleep," Kite said, too aware of Saryth seething next to her. "We've a long way to go tomorrow." She tugged at his arm and he stood up and bowed with her in sullen thanks for the hospitality they'd been shown.

Escaping to the small, secluded area set aside for them was a relief. The party was continuing, although it would probably not last much longer. Everyone here was on a journey. Most of them were going to Rathnacarrick, but unlike Kite and Saryth, they all had transport. The timing was somewhat of a concern, but as long as they made it to Rathnacarrick, it probably wouldn't matter if they were out of season. It's not like we planned for it. But it would be such a good opportunity...

"They were arguing for you, you know," she said to him as they negotiated the trees at the edge of the site.

"Yes, well, they were arguing wrong!" He was still annoyed.

"'Scuse me!" A voice piped up from behind them and Kite stopped and turned. It was one of the boys who'd been at the party, a child of about 12, dark haired and bright eyed. He'd clapped the longest and loudest after the stories.

"What is it?" she asked. He looked down at his bare feet, fidgeting in the dirt, then raised his head again, hope in his eyes.

"Um, I was thinking... if you're going to Rathnacarrick... Do you want to come with us? See, we're travelling on the river, but my brother broke his arm, so..." He trailed off, watching their faces expectantly. Kite blinked.

"That does sound interesting," she said, not quite sure what was being offered except perhaps an easier journey. The boy grinned with delight.

"We're leaving early tomorrow morning, from the river bend."

"We'll be there," Kite said, and he spun and dashed off, barely pausing to shout his farewell.

"Great! Bye!"

After he was gone, Kite started back towards their sleeping area. He didn't even say his name...

"What do you think?" she asked Saryth, who stopped walking, tugging her to a stop as well.

"I think being in one place would be great," he said. "I'm sick of not knowing where I am. But... the longer we spend with people, the more likely we are to slip, I think. And what use am I going to be on a boat? Even without this," and he tugged at the blindfold with his spare hand, "it's not like I know anything about sailing."

"Speaking of slipping, be careful what you say about 'that mage'".

"What I said didn't give anything away, did it?"

"Unusual knowledge might. Remember, we're foreigners. We wouldn't understand the situation."

"They blatantly didn't, either."

She didn't argue.

Morning brought bright skies and a fresh breeze, and after the briefest break, the stupid blindfold again. Saryth hated wearing it, hated not being able to see where he was going, hated being vulnerable and most of all, he hated the deception. He lagged after Kite as she walked them towards the river, tripping over tree roots in the rutted path. The staff - Kite's staff - was a bit of a help there anyway.

Kite tugged him to a halt and Saryth squinted down at the tiny view he had out of the bottom of the blindfold. He could make out mud and grass. That's a big help.

"Papa! It's Micha and Sitha from last night!" He recognised the voice as the boy who'd spoken to them after the performance.

"Eh?" came a man's voice, sounding tetchy. "What do they want?"

"They're going to Rathnacarrick too. I thought they could work the locks instead of Elda and Antos."

"What, two skinny foreigners? Nikos, for crying out loud! One of them's a girl and the other one's blind! What use are they going to be?!" Saryth scowled, despite the echo of his own thoughts from the night before, and felt Kite tense in irritation.

"I can work locks, sir," she said, her voice tight.

"Papa, Elda did the locks before!" the boy insisted.

"Yes, and look where she is now!"

"Janos!" A new speaker, this one a woman. "Don't be silly, dear. Elda's only pregnant, and the locks didn't do that. It won't be a problem for Sitha."

"And what about her brother? We can't take baggage, no matter how well he plays the drums."

"Antos can guide him."

"And that's going to work, is it?"

"Isn't it worth a try, dear? If the alternative is leaving half the cargo..."

"All right! All right! Have it your way!" Saryth didn't need to see to imagine the man throwing his arms in the air and turning away in exasperation. "But!" The speaker came closer. "If it doesn't work, you're getting off at Brindall Weir. There's no room if you can't work."

"Thank you very much, sir!" Kite said with enthusiasm he thought was feigned. Maybe not. She'd been worried about the slow progress they'd been making, after all.

"This way, dear," the woman said from beside him, taking his arm. Saryth started, then let her draw him forwards over the grass. "Let me show you. Don't mind Janos," she went on. "He's just worried. We've made bad time since Antos broke his arm, and with Elda at home, well, we were a bit stuck." She was not as easy to follow as Kite. Saryth tried not to look like he was peeking under the blindfold. The woman led them across the grass to a smoother dirt area, presumably a path. The quiet rippling gurgle of the nearby river was almost hidden by the cheerful clatter of people at work either side of them. "This is the Moth," she said, which was no help at all. "Janos helms her, and Antos and Christos work the locks, normally. And Licca looks after the horses. Sitha, you'll be on the Butterfly, helping Petros do the locks. Tomas is the helm and Nikos takes the horses. You can stow your things on Moth."

"Sara!" The yell came from the grumpy Janos, some way along the bank.

"Coming!" She let go of Saryth's arm. Kite took up her place again.

"Saryth?"

"I am so confused."

"We're off!" Janos shouted. "Come on, get on board if you're coming! Let's go, let's go!"

"The boat's right in front of you," Kite said. "Here," and she took his hands and guided him over the side of a boat - the Moth, presumably - so that when the crew obeyed the irascible Janos, he and Kite were aboard and travelling with them.

At the prompting of one of the boatmen, Kite had stowed their bags and her staff inside the Moth, then guided Saryth onto the low roof of the boat and left him there to go and do whatever it was she was supposed to be doing on the other boat. Saryth sat on the curved roof and tried not to worry about low bridges. Apart from that, it was a surprisingly pleasant way to travel. The river was calm, and the creak of the harness and clop of the horses' hooves on the dirt path made a kind of counterpoint to the gentle slosh and splash of the river that was almost hypnotic. The sun was warm and the birds were singing, and he wished it was safe to look properly.

"Are you all right?" The voice came from in front of him and a bit below.

"I'm... a bit confused, I'm afraid," he said. It wasn't a familiar voice, but that meant it wasn't Janos.

"Ah, Papa and Mama both talk too fast, and I don't suppose Nikos explained anything."

"He didn't even tell us his name, actually."

"Sounds about right." The reverberating thump marked the speaker hoicking himself up to the roof to sit nearby. The boat barely rocked with the impact. "I'm Antos, by the way. Janos is my father, Nikos and Christos are my brothers. I'm the one with the broken arm, so I'll be showing you the locks, when we get there."

"What are locks?"

"They're for when the water course goes up or down hill. The boats go in, we shut the doors and let the water in or out. You can do it on your own, but we need two lock workers per boat, really, or it's very slow. It was bad enough when we had to leave Elda behind at the last minute, but without me - we might have had to leave one boat behind." The rush of words slowed, then Antos said, more quietly, "so I'm glad you're here, or I might have had to miss the festival. It'd be me staying behind." Saryth remembered Janos' comment about half the cargo. "Should I, um, show you round? I mean -" he stumbled, and Saryth hurried to head off the awkwardness.

"Yes please!" he said, and let Antos guide him down from the roof to stand in the small space where he'd been before, at the front of the boat. The bow, Antos told him, before listing all the items which were stored there, explaining their use, then making him touch each one in turn so he'd know where they were. He was nothing if not thorough.

Kite watched Antos usher Saryth off the roof from her position in front of the horses leading the Butterfly, behind the Moth. Petros, a tall cheerful man with curly dark hair, looked down at her and smiled.

"Worried about your brother?"

"A little."

"Antos will look after him," Nikos chirped from behind. He was supposedly leading the horses, but they were placid, well-trained creatures and Kite thought it wouldn't matter if nobody was holding their leading reins.

"When do we get to the locks?" she asked.

"Tattersedge Weir and Lock will be this afternoon," Petros said. "We'll probably moor at Thrush End and do Sadley and Brindall tomorrow. So you've got three locks to prove yourselves. Are you familiar with them?"

"I am - well, I've done it before. It's Micha who hasn't."

"Mmm." Petros looked away. "It shows how worried my brother is, you know, that he hardly argued about that arrangement." Hardly argued was not how she'd have described it. Petros gave her a reassuring smile. "Antos is a clever boy, I'm sure they'll be fine. And if not, we're all a bit closer to Rathnacarrick, anyway."

"And you'll play for us tonight, won't you?" Nikos burst out. "Please?"

"Nikos!"

"I'm sure we can manage that," Kite said. She was more sure of that than anything else they were supposed to be doing in this weird setup. Closer to Rathnacarrick. That was the important thing.

"I'm sorry," Petros said to her, and she shook her head.

"No, it's fine."

"Sitha, Sitha!" Nikos again. "Tell me about your country!"

Kite sighed, and smiled. Telling stories was a good way to pass time, anyway.

Saryth and Antos' first test came an hour after the brief stop for lunch. That had mainly been for the big horses' benefit. Saryth didn't bother getting off the boat, it was far too much trouble. After so long sitting down, though, Antos' announcement of their arrival at Tattersedge Lock came as a relief. The boats pulled in to bump against the bank, and Antos guided him onto the path, then up some wide steps to an area paved with stone, tugging Saryth along until he bumped gently into a large wooden beam set at right angles to the river. It quivered slightly at the impact. He reached down and felt a square metal bar positioned above the wooden beam.

"Here," Antos said, and pressed the cold metal handle of the windlass into his hand. Saryth had been given it earlier in the day, after the tour of the Moth. It was a right-angled metal bar with a square socket on the end which Antos guided down to slot over the square bar. He took Saryth's right hand and moved it to the windlass handle, then guided his left hand to an upright attached to the beam. "Hold it like this and wind here." He tugged gently at the handle, and Saryth complied, turning it round. Antos had explained this was going to open what he called a lock paddle, draining the lock. It was hard work, especially at first, and he understood now why Antos would have struggled with a broken arm. As he turned, putting his back into it, there came a rush and gurgle of water from the river beside him. Water leaving the lock? He couldn't risk a peek. The sound threatened dark underwater currents and unknown depths.

After what seemed like an unfeasibly long time, the rush of water quietened, Antos said they were done, and he disengaged the windlass carefully, then turned at Antos' urging to put his back against the beam and push. It quivered, then moved slowly, gaining momentum as it went, until it had swung through nearly ninety degrees and the gate bumped with a shiver against the lock wall. All around them people were shouting for the boats to be moved in, and Saryth heard the clop of the horses as they were led past him.

"These are good locks," Antos said, as they pushed the beam - the lock gate - back into place. "Big ones. We can get both boats in at once. The locks on the canal, after we leave the river, are too small for two boats. That's when it gets really slow. You wind it down again now," he added, and Saryth fumbled the windlass back onto the square bar and turned it the other way, this time accompanied by the bumping of the boats in the lock, now far below. "Once we're done," Antos said as he turned the handle, "Sitha and Petros will wind up the upper paddles to let the water in so the lock fills."

That proved to be another age of winding, although not for him this time. Antos led him to the other end of the lock where the upper gates were being manned by Kite and Petros. The deep gurgle of water into the lock intensified the bumping of the boats as they rose up to their new level. Antos turned Saryth to sit against the upper gate beam. "Now, push this," he said, "to open the gate and let the boats out." Saryth complied, aware of someone else leaning on the lock gate beside him. Christos, presumably. The gate moved sluggishly, reluctant to shift against the weight of the water. The horses clopped around him, moved into position with calls and endearments from their handlers so the long hauling harnesses could be reattached. The lock gate shuddered into the fully open position, and Christos hurried away. Antos smacked Saryth on the shoulder. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," he admitted, "although I have no idea what I'm doing." It had felt very slow to him, but Antos seemed happy.

"That's fine, you don't need to," he said, and Saryth stifled the urge to complain. I want to know! "Come on, we got to get back to Moth." He tugged at Saryth's arm, leading him away from Tattersedge Lock, back to the boat, until the next one.

That night the crews gathered together, sharing fire and food and song and story, the latter two almost entirely from Kite and Saryth. Antos and Nikos watched with shining eyes and took it in turns to beg for more. In between the singing, playing and storytelling, Kite heard Sara talking to Janos.

"We made good time today, dear," she said. Her tone was mild, but her gaze was sharp, fixed on her husband.

"We did, at that." He was staring at the flames with a dour expression. Sara said nothing more, but after a few moments he looked away and scowled. "All right, all right. They can stay, if they must."

Kite smirked around the ocarina mouthpiece and carried on playing.

The evening broke up early, before true dark. It had been a long day, and everyone was tired. Kite and Saryth had been loaned an old tent, patched and worn but still waterproof, or so Petros assured them. Once inside, Saryth took off the blindfold with a sigh, and rubbed his eye.

"Did you hear Janos say we could stay?" Kite asked, unrolling the blankets they'd been given. They were thick and brightly patterned, so she laid two out on the ground as mattresses of sorts.

"Yes." He didn't sound enthusiastic.

"Saryth, are you all right with this?"

He pulled his tunic off, and lay down, pulling another blanket over himself. "I hate deceiving people. Somehow it feels worse when it's the same people as yesterday." He turned over and shut his eye. "I know why we're doing it... but I don't like it."

Kite couldn't think of what to say to that, but sleep caught them both before she had much time to worry about it.

"Up! Time to get up!"

The shout echoed across the campsite and Kite sat bolt upright, horrified. "Hair!" she blurted, and Saryth stirred beside her and looked up, bleary-eyed.

"Did we oversleep?"

"I think so. Come on, get dressed." They'd slept mostly dressed, so it didn't take long to put their tunics and shoes on, but there was no time for the intricate hairstyles Kite had managed before. Somehow it was weirder seeing Saryth with red hair when it was tied back in his normal loose ponytail than when she'd put it in the complicated braid.

"We're going!" Nikos hollered from near the boats.

"Breakfast once we're under way!" Janos shouted. Petros and Christos hurried up, unpegged the tent and folded it away with practiced efficiency.

"Oh well..." Kite shrugged and led Saryth to the Moth for the next day's journey. As he made his way from the bow to the roof, she heard Antos greet him.

"You look very different with your hair down," he said cheerfully. Kite winced, and hurried to her position by Petros. Nikos, standing ready by the lead horse, grinned at her.

"What happened this morning, Sitha?" he asked.

"I think we overslept."

"You should wear your hair down more often," Petros said. "It looks good." Kite eyed him, but he was looking ahead, unconcerned, so she swallowed the worry and vowed to wake up early for the rest of their journey.

By the end of that day, they had made it through the locks onto the canal, and the slow current of the river was left behind. The canals were narrower than the river had been, and the horses had an easier time of the long slow haul, plodding patiently along the banks towing the laden boats. Here and there were signs of other boat crews making their way up the canal, such as hoofprints on the bank, and marks of pitched tents by the side of the canal, but they did not meet anyone coming the other way, nor did they catch up with another boat.

"We'd have to wait for them at the lock flight anyway," Petros said when Kite asked about the practice of overtaking.

Although that evening was another night of song and story, Kite managed to wake up in time to get their hair braided as it had been the first day. Nobody said anything, but she felt relieved, as though the braiding was an important part of their disguise.

The following day came the flight Petros had been referring to. All that morning, as they travelled along the canal, the land around them had been rising, almost imperceptibly, while the canal carried on between ever taller banks, until Kite walked round a bend and saw the Moth had pulled into the bank. Beyond the low hull an endless chain of lock gates marked the rise of the canal to match the height of the hill in front of them. The lock beams were painted black and white, so that the lock flight looked almost like a smart set of black and white steps, each step sized for a giant's foot. Kite gaped at it. The gates continued up as far as she could see and beyond.

There were thirty locks, one after the other, each one the size of a single boat so that for each one they had to drain and fill the lock twice. Petros, Kite, Christos, Antos and Saryth reached a steady rhythm between them, taking it in turns to go ahead and empty the next lock, wind the paddles up and down, open and close the gates, while the horses and their handlers took their ease pausing while the boats were in the locks or the small basins in between. Kite understood then why Janos had been worried. Even with four people - counting Antos and Saryth as one - it was punishingly hard work and painfully slow progress. They couldn't stop in case someone came up behind them, and in any case they had to be clear of the flight before evening.

By the time they made it through the last lock, it was late afternoon, the sun slanting down towards that magical hour when the angle of its light casts everything in gold. The four lock workers went to sit on the boats, a rare treat for Petros, Christos and Kite, since the boats were supposed to be carrying cargo, not people. Kite and Saryth sat together on the roof of the Moth, legs, backs and arms aching, feeling thoroughly satisfied as the boats moved steadily on through the early evening. The canal wound through fields now, with small farm buildings dotted at irregular intervals, here and there clustering into villages. Are we getting close to the city? She didn't want to ask.

"This is our last mooring before the city," Petros said to Kite as they moored up that evening, confirming her guess. She had been looking forward to an early night, but something in his tone told her that wasn't going to happen.

"Oh?"

"Yes, we'll get in about midmorning, all being well." He didn't say anything else, but Kite knew what he was hoping for, and didn't feel able to refuse. Anyway, she enjoyed performing for such an appreciative crowd, and for all that he grumbled about his drums, she thought Saryth wasn't averse to applause either.

Later on, in their tent, she told Saryth what Petros had said. She was still trying to work out what she felt about it. Despite playing a role through the whole journey, she'd been enjoying spending time with these people.

"It's been fun," Saryth said, "but it will be good to get on with it again, I think."

"I suppose." She didn't want to get on with it, that was the problem.

They made it to Rathnacarrick just a little before noon. Saryth found himself growing tense as the noise of the city swelled around him, wishing he could take the blindfold off and knowing it was the worst thing he could do, here in Vorannen's city. It was a very unwelcome defence. He took refuge inside the Moth, in the narrow corridor between the loaded cargo. There were no more locks, anyway. For a brief moment he missed the gentle river, when they'd been far from Rathnacarrick, far from danger.

Eventually the boats bumped their way into their moorings, and Antos came to find him, to lead him out and hand him over the side to a rocking pier, where Kite took his arm and then gave him his bag and her staff to carry. I didn't miss those. She led him along the pier to stand on firmer ground, surrounded by the sounds of a busy river dock, people and animals at work, talking, laughing, eating, shouting.

"Well - here you are," Janos said from in front of them.

"Thank you very much," Kite said.

There was a pause, and then Sara said "Oi!" and Janos made a huffing noise, as though she'd elbowed him in the ribs.

"No, thank you," he said gruffly. "We made good time, after all. And... if you want to travel back at the end of the Festival, we'll be going back the way we came."

"Thank you," Kite said, "but I think we're travelling on from here. Goodbye."

She led him past the group and their goodbyes, and Saryth only realised then that he'd spent four days with these people, and he didn't know what any of them looked like. The realisation stung, and he clenched his hand around the staff, angry at the situation. He put his head down and let Kite tug him through the buffeting crowds and up a steep incline until she stopped at a sharp command. Saryth tensed, but Kite didn't seem worried.

"We'd like to see Lord Vorannen, please," she said.

"You for the audience, then?" A bored voice. Saryth angled his head until the tiny sliver of ground visible to him included the polished boots of a soldier.

"Um, yes."

"Names?"

"Micha and Sitha."

"Get in line. Starts in an hour. You should get in today."

"Thank you," Kite said, and led Saryth on. The ground underfoot was smooth flagstones, and he realised they were inside the castle. The same castle they'd put all that effort into escaping, not all that long ago. They must be surrounded by soldiers, but nobody raised an alarm. Kite put her hand over his where he held her arm, and he felt her fingers trembling.