35

	They were only halfway back to the camp when Catherine saw the first of Thomas's advanced scouts.  He raced past them on his big black horse with his head down, shouting at the animal to go faster even though it was already at a full gallop.  Two more scouts followed him, and both veered off just ahead of where they were walking and plunged into the forest.
	“Do you really think it's going to work, this time?” Sarah said.
	She hadn't let go of Catherine's arm the whole way back, and the closer they go to camp the tighter her grip got.
	“It should.  If there are still enough people who are angry about what happened the last time.  And if Thomas is smart about how he throws his fighters around,” Catherine said.
	“And Jess?” Sarah said.
	“That girl is smarter than any of us.  She'll be fine,” Catherine said.
	“But do you think we made her mad enough?” Sarah said.
	“She'll do her part.  There's enough anger in that pudgy little body of hers to tear the whole damned city to piece,” Catherine said.
	Sarah dragged her feet and kept turning to look back down the road every few steps.
	“I think I'm sorry I let you talk me into doing that.  It isn't right,” Sarah said.
	“I'm sorry, too.  I used to think I was better than that,” Catherine said.
	“What about us?” Sarah said.
	Catherine dug in her pockets for any stray cigarettes, but it was an increasingly futile search these days.  Sarah had decided that it was time for her to quit and was hiding them on her.
	“We'll get our house back.  Thomas promised to keep any eye on Sebastian, and when it's over he said he'd vouch for the boy being kin to me,” Catherine said.
	“That's not what I meant.  She thinks we've given up on her.  She's never had that many friends, and--”
	“And you think I really have, because I did as Thomas asked.  But she was going back to Jaspertree anyway, and who knows?  Maybe this will actually help her,” Catherine said.
	It was something that she was trying to believe, herself.
	She had a mint out of the wrapper, and nearly to her mouth, when Sarah hooked her elbow and pulled her out of the way of the first of the supply wagons.  The candy fell in the mud and was crushed under wide, iron-bound wheels.  The young fox in charge of the wagon didn't give them as much as a glance, but kept his attention on the backs of the horses drawing his vehicle.  He was dressed in slightly rusty mail and had a sword in a sheath beside his seat and a look of desperate fear on his face.  As Catherine looked down the line, she saw the same look mirrored on the faces of all of his companions.
	“Jessamine Bryar isn't the only person with something to lose,” she said.
	She got the second mint in her mouth, and wished she could have a cigarette instead.  The burn on her tongue was comforting, in its own way, but not enough.  When they found a gap in the traffic, they slipped out between a group of soldiers on foot and a second supply wagon, and ran the rest of the way back to camp.