Kelton felt he had run the length of Argonis when he finally slowed. Jutney had ended any attempts at subterfuge after their confrontation with the soldiers, moving through alleys and crossing roads without stalling.

Jutney slowed and turned into a covered stable, traveling past two fat brown horses tacked to a wagon, and through a door into an attached room. Fingers waited inside, sitting by a small brazer that warmed the room.

"Who did your face?" Fingers asked Jutney.

"One of the King's Own," Jutney panted, bending at the waist, his hands using his knees as support. Kelton duplicated the position to rest his lungs, unable to speak.

"Followed?"

"Mayhap," Jutney slurred. "They live, but we stuck them both."

"Things did not go well at the tavern," Fingers summarized as he donned his cloak. Kelton nodded his agreement. He didn't yet trust his voice. "We will have to move quickly. You riding with me?" Fingers asked Jutney.

"Nay," Jutney replied, then took a deep breath and stood straight. "I am ruined here. Too many eyes have seen me with him."

"I couldn't..." Kelton began, his body still starved of air.

"He fought off a sword with a knife," Jutney filled in. "Never seen that before. Wouldn't kill them though." Jutney shook his head. "Wouldn't have mattered much. Half the city was watching by then."

"Killing is what they do," Kelton said, his voice returning between longer breaths. He stood straight. "I don't want to be like them."

"Goddess, boy!" fingers said. "You stirred the pot and didn't taste the stew." It was an old saying. The meaning wasn't always clear to Kelton, yet he grasped the underlying meaning.

"I only desired people to hear the truth," Kelton said. He already knew his words in the tavern were useless. Still, he wanted Fingers to understand why he spoke them.

"Truth. Lies. It is the ears that decide, and they all hear different things." Fingers shrugged his shoulders. It seemed to signal that what was done was done, and nothing could change that now. "We must be quick now." He pointed toward the door.

Jutney and Kelton followed Fingers out. Fingers climbed atop the coverless wagon, pushing between the large barrels that were lined up on its bed. He motioned for Kelton to follow. The barrels were bound tight with hand-wide strips of leather, each lidded except for one near the buckboard.

"Dagger against a sword?" Fingers questioned as he scooted near the open barrel.

"The soldier was beating Jutney." Kelton shrugged the same way Fingers had done earlier. "Seemed the only option."

"He was as tall as Kelton," Jutney said from below. "But twice as wide. He was swinging like a madman and didn't even get close." Fingers signaled for Kelton to climb into the barrel. The barrel looked smaller than Kelton had imagined when he first heard the plan.

"One-on-one, I can't be touched by the Seen," Kelton admitted as he looked into the empty barrel. It was dark inside. Not inviting at all.

"Then why leave?" Fingers asked.

"He doesn't like the killing," Jutney answered for him.

"Aye," Kelton agreed. He pointed into the barrel. "I won't fit in there."

"It's been tried by someone larger. It is uncomfortable, and your bones will feel the worst of it." Fingers smiled. "It's either this or gain a taste for killing."

Kelton looked down at Jutney, blood still staining the boy's upper lip. It is the people around him that suffer the most. He remembered the boy poled on the road, killed for looking like him. What if someone connected him to Juno? A shiver traveled the outside of his skin and terminated in his chest like a flock of angry birds. He needed to leave and be forgotten.

"It is the barrel," Kelton said and began to climb in.

"I will go south," Jutney informed him. "You can find me there when you return." The barrel was almost chest high, forcing to Kelton to abandon his first attempt at putting one leg in at a time. He jumped up and sat his butt on the lip. Fingers steadied Kelton as he swiveled his legs around and dropped them into the darkness.

"If I can return, we will find each other," Kelton said. It was a weak promise, said only because he thought Jutney needed to hear it. It would be better if Jutney found a new life where his dreams didn't center on Kelton. One shouldn't follow a boy who is crawling into a barrel and running away.

"I will be waiting," Jutney said with conviction. Kelton closed his eyes, silently praying the Goddess would show Jutney a different path. When he opened them, he saw Jutney turning out of the stable, disappearing into the city.

"He should not wait for me," Kelton whispered, more to himself than to Fingers.

"It's best if you leave him with hope," Fingers said, signaling Kelton to squat down into the barrel.

"And you?" Kelton asked as he lowered himself into the darkness. "Do you see hope where there is none?"

"There's hope as long as there is life," Fingers said. Kelton smiled, remembering Rolic's words. Rolic knew much of the world. Perhaps he was the one who told the Seven about metal walls blocking the Brethren's sight. Kelton decided to keep the thought to himself as he ducked into the barrel, lowering his rear to the bottom as he cocked his legs. Better to not know than risk the few friends he had.

"It is tight," Kelton said.

"Lower," Fingers instructed.

"It's sticky," Kelton said. The outside of his right hand had acquired a tar-like substance. He began to feel more remnants on his clothes.

"It's from the inner rim. Seals the wood and keeps most of the water above your head."

"Most of the water?"

"It leaks some," Fingers said. Kelton looked up at Fingers' smiling face. He was about to clarify what some was when Fingers lowered a rounded wooden piece onto a small ledge that circled the barrel just above Kelton's head. It squeezed into place with a sucking sound, blackening Kelton's vision. He heard Fingers pushing at the new roof in a circular pattern. Applying more tar most likely. Something heavy was placed atop the lid.

"Sit tight," Fingers said. Kelton felt the wagon shake when Fingers jumped off. The barrel wasn't designed for a man. Kelton had his knees tucked toward his chest and his back curving uncomfortably against the wood. It was unnerving to be in the dark and completely out of control, not unlike the metal lined box he had hidden in before.

"Let me know if it leaks," Fingers said, then Kelton heard the rush of water above his head. He felt around and waited a moment before answering.

"It's still dry," Kelton responded.

"A few more buckets and I'll close it up," Fingers said, his voice moving away. Nervousness began to grow in Kelton. The thought of leaving everything he knew was frightening now that the process was progressing. Rolic had insisted the world was wondrous. Kelton wasn't so sure anymore. Being lost in the woods was easy to deal with. Being lost among strangers was something different and intimidating. Jutney and Fingers had risked too much to back out now. Kelton forced himself to accept the inevitable and decided to worry once he there was something concrete to worry about. More water was poured above Kelton's head.

"There's a knot right here," Fingers said, knocking on the outside of the barrel. Kelton felt for the sound, his fingers finding a slightly raised oval shape. He picked at it until it he pulled the knot inward, leaving a hole half a finger across. Kelton welcomed the light that leaked in, though he couldn't bend low enough to look out.

"I've got it facing toward the wagon wall," Fingers said, poking his finger into the hole and wiggling it. "Should be able to travel with it out. Put it back whenever the wagon stops. It's small enough that it won't attract attention during inspection."

"We're going to be inspected?"

"Everything is inspected," Fingers said, his voice trailing off as he headed for more water. Kelton examined the hole, replacing the stopper knot repeatedly, recognizing it only went in one way. At least the air wouldn't go stale why they were on the move.

"You'll need to stay in there until the ship is well from the harbor. The captain won't chance letting you out in eyesight of the shore." Fingers dumped another bucket load of water and went back for another.

"How long will it take?" Kelton asked when he heard Fingers return.

"Longer than your bones will want," Fingers said, adding a chuckle. He emptied another bucket above Kelton's head, slowing toward the end. Fingers climbed up onto the wagon and began securing the lid on the barrel. "I would take your path if the Seven would let me," Fingers said as he tapped down the lid.

"I have some fear of it," Kelton admitted. "Into the unknown with people I don't know..."

"An adventure," Fingers interrupted sounding excited. "I would gladly trade new for the old we have here." Fingers climbed down off the wagon. "I will have to be content knowing the King and Brethren will be ignorant of your fate."

"There is that," Kelton agreed. He decided to dwell on that aspect of his escape. Use it to quell the trepidation of an unwritten future. "Do you think Jutney will be okay? I don't wish him harm on my account."

"The Seven will see to him. He's been valuable, and they will find a place for him elsewhere."

"And you, are you risking too much?" Kelton waited for the reply. Fingers had stopped moving and was uncharacteristically long in his thoughts.

"Do you plan to return?" Fingers asked.

"If I can. There are some who I wish to see again."

"Then I don't risk enough," Fingers replied. He climbed on to the buckboard. Kelton heard the horses snort their awareness of their wagon master and the start of travel. Fingers called out to them, and Kelton felt the wagon surge forward, rubbing his bones against the hardwood of the barrel. He tried to shift, but there was no room. It was going to be an uncomfortable trip.

Kelton dwelled on Fingers response. He didn't like the idea of people waiting for him to return, as if he was the key to some envisioned future. Unlike Jutney, Kelton had thought Fingers was more practical. Couldn't he see that Kelton was just a boy like anyone else? It was the curse of being Unseen that made people think he was special. One Unseen boy can't face thousands of Brethren with thousands of winters of history behind them. No, there was nothing he could do to change anything. All he could do is hurt those he cared about by being near them. It was settled. Whatever lay ahead over the seas, was better than risking friends. He lightly touched his lips, remembering a kiss. Much better.

The road was unkind to Kelton's backside. The way his legs were bent forced the bonier parts of his butt to absorb the movements. His only relief was to decide which side took the beating, shifting between the right and left as need demanded. The wagon was moving at a steady pace. The sound of the front wheels sometimes foreshadowed a deep rut, allowing Kelton to prepare himself by momentarily lifting his sore butt off the wood. He began to wonder if Fingers was having fun by picking out the deepest ruts.

Kelton sensed when they left the city. It was a relief not having all those bodies to sort through. Once again he could easily discern location and distance, sensing individuals as they passed by. It was mostly wagons that passed. For the first time, he wondered why he couldn't detect the horses. The drivers were clear, his sense had improved with use. Did animals not hold intent, as Rolic had described it? Maybe the word intent wasn't being used in the way Kelton assumed. He knew he could feel people that were unaware of him. That same process should apply to animals as well. It had to be something besides life he was sensing. Something the beasts don't have. Something he didn't have. Maybe not having that something gave him the ability to detect that something in others.

Fingers tapped on the barrel, and the wagon began to slow. Kelton replaced the knot and settled down to remain silent, hopefully invisible. The horses stopped, their hoofs plodding to find comfortable purchase.

"What are you delivering?" The voice was bureaucratic, seemingly bored with the task. Kelton felt four people on the other side of the wagon, not from the direction of the voice. One of the Brethren and troops he surmised.

"Water, your eminence," Fingers said. "Two fresh, six grogged."

"Destination?"

"The Charmaigne, your eminence."

"The unflagged vessel?"

"I'm not told such things," Fingers replied, sounding like an ignorant lackey. "What is flagged? Am I in error?" Kelton felt Fingers shifting uncomfortably on the buckboard. Acting as only Fingers could.

"Mayhap," the Brother said.

"Who employed you?" Another voice asked. This voice was also disembodied from Kelton's sense. Two of the Brethren. Kelton prayed the count didn't increase.

"Bartercan, your eminence," Fingers said with a cracking voice. Kelton wondered if the fear was real. "I do jobs for him from time to time. He did not say anything but the ship name." There was a brief pause as Fingers shifted some more. "He owns a stable on the south of town. Been there for as long as I've lived."

"You filled these?" the first voice asked.

"Yes, your eminence. Each one and the fresh being the last."

"No help?"

"Nay," Fingers replied, Kelton could feel Fingers' head shaking adamantly. "I keep more of the coin if I do it all myself." Another short pause then he added as an afterthought, "your eminence."

"Open one," the second voice said. Kelton felt the non-Brethren move forward, one standing in front of the horses, presumably holding the reins.

"Aye," Fingers said, moving quickly. Kelton was surprised when he felt Fingers opening the barrel he was in. He closed his eyes tight, shocked at the brazenness of the man. Undoubtedly, one of the soldiers would test the bottom. Kelton felt for his waist blade, awkwardly twisting his hand to try and retrieve it in such tight quarters. To make matters worse, he felt a trickle of water drip down his back. The seal was leaking. Kelton had visions of dying in a barrel. He was sure they could all hear his heart beating.

"Not that one," the second Brother said. Kelton heard a tapping near the back of the wagon. "This one."

"That is tightly lidded, your eminence," Fingers responded. "The fresh ones are easier to open."

"I care not for your troubles," the Brother said. "Open this one, or we dump them all." Kelton smiled as he heard Fingers' panicked scramble across the tops of the barrels. Fingers played the Brethren as Gossamer played an audience.

"They are worthless if the seal is broken, your eminence," Fingers argued. Kelton could hear Fingers working hard to open the top.

"Then your employer will earn less," the second Brother said. Fingers grumbled something unintelligible, then Kelton heard the distinct sound of a wooden lid be laid atop another barrel.

"Dump it, Captain," the first Brother said.

"Your Eminence?" Fingers cried. Kelton felt the soldiers climbing on the wagon. Some of his initial panic returned.

"Mayhap, we should check more," the first Brother said. Kelton could hear the humor in his voice.

"Nay, your eminence," Fingers said, forcing calmness into his voice. "I follow the Goddess' will."

"As all should." There was a large thump, followed by a rush of water as the contents of the barrel were poured on the ground. "Captain?"

"It is empty, your eminence," the soldier responded.

"Have a man escort this shipment and collect our share," one of the Brothers said, his voice trailing away. Kelton heard the barrel being righted and felt the wagon get lighter as someone climbed down. He let out a long slow breath, his anxiety leaving with the air. After some jostling, the wagon began moving forward again. Kelton struggled to keep his sore backside off the wood.

"Sorry about dumping the load," a soldier said, once they had moved an adequate distance.

"It will come from my portion, but it is not you I blame," Fingers responded. Kelton could hear the pain in Fingers' voice. Acting to the end.

"There is trouble in the city. Something about the red demon." The soldier sighed. "They have been checking everything, sometimes twice. You got off easy, not that it makes it better."

"Red demon or Answer, what do the likes of us care? We just need to eat," Fingers said. The soldier snorted his agreement.

"I got three mouths at home. The Goddess blessed me with boys, though their bellies never seem to fill. The oldest is ready for some work. Is your employer looking for others?"

"You spill my wages on the road an then seek my help?" Kelton heard humor in the question.

"I do what is asked of me. You're right though, it is too much to ask. It's just...well, I don't want the boy to follow me into the King's Own." There was a slight pause. "I'd rather he thought well of himself and not dump others' wages on the road."

"Bartercan already has a stable boy, and wagoneers are hired per shipment. Inconsistent work at best, not that he'd allow a boy to move a load. I do know of a tavern short a server. You fear your boy working nights serving drunks?"

"Nay. Better honest work than King and Brethren," the soldier said. "I tire of it but sowed my seeds long ago."

"Haven't we all," Fingers said. There was comradery in his tone. "Gothrow's place is on the west side, near the open market."

"I know of it, been there once or twice."

"You ask for Gothrow and tell him Fingers sent you. He'll try the boy as a favor." Fingers chuckled. "The man likes my coin and doesn't wish me to spend elsewhere." Kelton smiled, realizing that Fingers was recruiting. The boy and possibly the father would slowly be brought into the fold. Knowingly, if trust could be established. Jutney leaves, and another slips into place.

"Then I will owe you a round to two. Mayhap, help offset the coin you lost tonight," the soldier said.

"You owe me nothing. As I said, I don't hold you to blame." Fingers snickered. "Though, I've never turned down a free mug."

"A round it is," the soldier said, solidifying the deal. Someone slapped the other on the back, and the talk turned toward a discussion of who served the best brew in Shunneer City. Kelton felt more water dripping down his back. A puddle was forming under him. It was a good thing the Brethren never looked inside his barrel.