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"Let's be on our way, Rabbit," Matya told the donkey as
she climbed onto the wagon's wooden bench. "If we hurry,
we can reach Garnet by nightfall. There's a merchant there
who's an even worse haggler than Belek." The donkey gave
a snort that sounded uncannily like laughter.
Matya tied a bright red kerchief over her graying hair and
grasped the wagon's reins in her strong, thick fingers. She
whistled sharply, and Rabbit started off at a trot down the
dusty highway, pulling the gaudily colored wagon behind.
*****
It was midafternoon when she saw the ravens circling
lazily against the azure sky not far in the distance. Matya
knew well what the dark birds portended: Death ahead.
"Keep those ears up, Rabbit," she told the donkey as the
wagon jounced down the heavily rutted road. "There's
danger on the road these days."
Matya watched warily as the serene, rolling hills
slipped by. Autumn had touched the land with its frosty
hand, coloring the plains of southern Solamnia in a hundred
shades of russet and gold. The honey-colored sunlight was
warm and drowsy, but Matya resisted the temptation to
doze, as she might have done otherwise. The land was
beautiful, but beauty could conceal danger. She remained
wide awake and alert.
The wagon crested a low rise. Below her, the road split,
and it was here the ravens circled. The highway continued
on to the north, and a second road led east, toward the dim
purple range of mountains marching on the horizon
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