Gilly nodded. “Right away, miss. Right away.” And he was off to get the saddle.
In twenty-some minutes, Gilly and a few other stable hands had the black stallion fully saddled. I knew that Dante—who had been a shift-changer in life—had turned himself into the beautiful black stallion for me to ride. What a ridiculously simple way for him to be with me the whole way. He, and a sturdy-looking bay with all my bags, including the sleeping bag, were both tied to the back of the carriage.
Before long, we were making our way down the mountainside, toward the small village of Walachia, where we would meet the train.
“So, tell me,” I said, trying to word my question right. “How is it your parents will be on the train, and yet no one will know about it? Don"t they have to get on the train at some
