There were only four of them left to escort Charlotte, Nicholas and the mayor of Victoria River down towards the river. A stone brick bridge took them over to the second half of town, where even more poor people walked the streets. A horse-drawn cart filled with hay passed them, the driver staring in confusion at the new arrivals. 

None of them were told where they were going, but the entire time, Charlotte talked to the man about Victoria River and how they were faring. The man spoke in a quiet voice and it was hard to hear him over the sound of hoofbeats on the dirt, but Vincent caught whispers of native tribes and low food, even lower money. It was all that he had expected to hear. 

The mayor of Victoria River led them out of town. The houses turned into rolling green fields dotted with tall trees, the sun beating down harshly on the small group. Spencer rode silently by his side, his eyebrows knitted together. Regret was like a rock in Vincent’s stomach, but it wasn’t the time to be having another serious conversation with him. 

After twenty minutes of walking, buildings sprung up again, as well as a series of hills. It wasn’t often that he saw them in a country as flat and dull as Ilsania. It would have been a sight to behold if it weren’t for the mine that tore a massive hole into one of them. 

Small huts had been roughly built next to the mines, offices for the overseers and whoever else was needed to run a mine. Mine tracks led towards a massive warehouse off to the side, hidden near the river. People rushed around as the group drew nearer, pans or pickaxes in their hands. 

“This is Victoria Mine, ma’am,” the man with them said. “The main entrance is right up ahead. I’ll take you on a tour of the places you requested in your letter.”

He continued on, but Vincent didn’t get to hear any more of it. Nicholas turned towards him and cleared his throat, disapproval written all over his face. “You and Mister Bowers will stay outside the mine while we tour, understand?” he asked. “You’ll look after the horses too.”

“Yes, sir,” Vincent replied. 

The moment they reached the mine entrance, the dark chasm stretching down underground, the guards hopped off their horses and tied them to a nearby pole. Charlotte smiled at Vincent when she walked past him, but didn’t say anything, following Nicholas and the other man into the dark. 

They disappeared so quickly, the last two guards walking in after them. It left Spencer with him, petting one of the horses as someone came by with hay for them. Sparks snorted happily as she ate, nudging Vincent in the side once. He smiled and ran a hand down her side, happy to out riding with her again. 

“You need to tell me what you meant,” Spencer said, moving towards him. 

Vincent sighed and looked away from him, regretting ever saying anything. To one side of them was the rushing river, probably filled with slurry from the mines. To the other was a forest of tall trees and thick scrub, the kind of place he would have loved to travel through not that long ago.

“It’s too hard here, Spencer,” he said, shrugging and shifting from foot to foot in the grass. “I don’t know much about North Ilsania, but it has to be better than here. The only thing I could steal in weeks and you took it from me. It’s time to find somewhere new, somewhere that might be better for me and Sparks.”

“Always the damn horse,” Spencer muttered. “Were you going to tell me or were you just going to disappear?”

Vincent furrowed his eyebrows at him. “Why would I tell you?” he asked. Spencer would just follow him, which was the last thing he wanted. “We’re not friends, Spencer, we never have been. We fight and we steal from each other, that’s not friendship. I wanted a new start in North Ilsania.”

“Huh, I always thought you were joking when you said that,” he replied, leaning against a wooden beam, a strange sadness in his eyes. “Didn’t realise you actually meant it. I saved your life when we first met.”

“That was years ago!” Vincent said, scoffing in surprise. “It wasn’t even your house you had me holed up in. And then we spent the rest of the last few years doing what we usually do. Where did you ever get the idea that we were friends?”

“I don’t know, maybe when we snuck into that office the other night, or when we would drink together in the middle of the night,” Spencer said. There was hurt in his eyes, the same look he had shot him when Vincent had said he was planning on leaving. “What about that shit you said to me the other day? About not caring about what I am, what did that even mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. His gaze drifted towards the line of trees in the distance, not wanting to have the conversation. “I don’t know, Spencer, I really don’t. It’s the truth, alright? I just… Things are changing. I don’t want to be in Morgot anymore, that’s all I know,” he explained. It was hard to find the words to explain his thoughts when he didn’t even know how to work through them himself. 

Besides, if Spencer truly saw them as friends, then why do what he was doing? What was his issue? “You should have told me, I would have appreciated that,” he muttered, shifting so Vincent could see over his shoulder, at the strange flap of fabric hidden among the trees. It was barely visible, but it looked out of place, enough to make him frown. “You might not consider us friends but I-”

“Spencer, wait,” he said and moved past him, pointing into the trees. “Do you see that?”

Spencer barked out a laugh that was almost a groan. “I was in the middle of talking, but alright,” he snapped and spun towards him. “See what?”

He frowned, eyebrows knitting together and tried to get a better look at what was hidden in the trees. It took him a moment to realise what it was, as it had been a long time since he had seen anything like it, but it still made him sick to his stomach. “I think it’s something native.”