Free The Book of Forbidden Wisdom by Gillian Murray Kendall

horses’ hooves when they struck parts of the road that were still hard and black. No rustles in the underbrush. No shouts of discovery.
    â€œWe need to put in more miles before we rest,” Trey said.
    â€œBut where are we going?” asked Silky.
    â€œThe Old Road meets up with the Great North Way,” said Trey. “We’ll follow it.”
    â€œAre we doomed, Trey?” asked Silky.
    â€œNo,” he said shortly.
    I understood her fear. The Great North Way was the finest feat of engineering left by the old ones, but it was also considered to be especially haunted. But there was something else very much on my mind.
    â€œThis rescue marks you, Trey. This may end terribly.”
    â€œYes,” he said. “There are, however, no circumstances under which I wouldn’t rescue you, Angel. You should know that.”
    He picked up his reins and was about to urge Bran on when I reached out and took his hand in mine. Silky gasped at behavior a chaperone would have called wanton.
    â€œYou’re my brother now, Trey,” I said.
    â€œI don’t want to be your brother,” he said shortly.
    I was going to release Trey’s hand, but he pulled his away first.
    Silky, meanwhile, was watching us curiously. “Are you going to marry Trey, Angel?” she asked. “Because you did just touch him. That means a wedding, right?”
    â€œI’m running from marriage, Silky,” I said. “Remember?”
    â€œI just wondered, ” said Silky. “I’ve always wondered why you and Trey didn’t just—­“
    â€œSilky.”
    â€œSorry.”
    Throughout this exchange, Trey rode with his head bowed, and I found I didn’t want to know what he was thinking.
    We began gently jogging the horses, but the road was slow going in places. The edges had crumbled away into a hard black scree that embedded itself into the horses’ shoes.
    â€œMaybe we’re safe,” said Silky. “Except for the ghosts, of course.”
    â€œYou heard those men,” said Trey. “There’s a reward out—­word will spread quickly. I doubt they’ll give up pursuit that easily with land at stake. And with gold to go with it.”
    I thought of the kind of land reward Kalo could offer, and I knew Trey was right. Kalo could easily raise someone’s caste or even set up a freeman for life.
    We continued jogging. Ahead of us, I saw a puddle filled with yellow and red butterflies drinking. Jasmine, never breaking stride, waded through the puddle, and butterflies scattered like blown petals.
    Bran jumped over the water.
    â€œIf you hadn’t taught Bran to jump over puddles,” I said to Trey, “he might not have refused at the river. You taught him to go over water, not through it.”
    â€œJumping puddles is fun,” said Silky, plunging into the conversation. “Squab and I do it all the time. And he’s not afraid of anything .”
    â€œToo dumb,” I muttered.
    The sun was getting high. A deer made its strange coughing noise from the shade of a copse.
    I don’t know when the echo began.
    But I knew, when I heard it, that we had been lazy and foolish and loud. We should have pushed the horses harder, and we should not have spoken at all, much less chattered idly. I should have shushed Silky, whose high, clear voice traveled.
    Now I made a signal for silence.
    â€œWhat’s the matter ?” asked Silky, without so much as waiting to take a breath.
    I was right. She would have been doomed with a ‘Lidan husband. A ‘Lidan husband would have kept her universally bridled. At that moment, I wanted to put a hand over her mouth myself.
    â€œLady Silky,” said Trey. “Be quiet.”
    Silky looked bewildered, but she held her peace.
    A small miracle.
    â€œSomeone’s following us,” I whispered to Trey.
    I looked around nervously. Yellow creepers and low green thorn bushes grew right