"Oh thank Issus," Dejah breathes. "The wind cuts right through me."

Even all bundled up like this, she's colder than she's ever been in her life. She's trying to ignore the part of her mind that envisions the worst possible outcomes. It's not helpful.

There's a straight line up ahead. It's the fences that mark the path down to the stables.

"Curtis!" She can't help it. She has to do something. Shouting is probably no good, but it makes her feel better. "Edgar! Call out if you can hear us!"