It took them almost a month to finish their journey up to Mardoo, which was the nearest big city that could take them across the ocean. Winter chased them all the way there, but finally the wall of night receded and the snows stopped. They entered a gleaming desert that reached scorching temperatures during the day and dropped to freezing in the night.
They eventually left the mountains behind and dropped down into Mel Iorn, a hilly, wet country at the best of times. Now, in the winter, it was frigidly cold and humid. The usually green vegetation was gray and brown, blanketing the ground in an icy, soggy mass. Many of the streams were already frozen over or dried up, but several rivers still rushed down through the hills. On one memorable occasion, the four of them even had to cross a freezing river.
Anglorae groaned. “Berries? Again?”
Kyosti didn’t have to see Sanji to know she looked murderous. “You can starve, if you’d rather,” she pointed out.
They do, in fact, set out the next morning. The Seers are obviously anxious to be rid of them. As Kyosti had predicted, the Seers decided they would head up north into Sorn Iorn first, then catch the first available boat into Mayna or Tenash. It would be a long journey, but shorter than waiting for the long winter to pass.
Kyosti was inclined to forget the argument he’d had with Sanji when the morning came, and it seemed Sanji agreed; neither of them brought up either Rokolo or the Leopard Queen as they ate their meal of pickled eggs, steamed greens and root vegetables.
