Asia exhaled derisively. “A semblance that requires apologies? Brilliant work, Liam. Very subtle.”

“I’m plenty subtle,” Mango snapped. The bird hopped close to Mira’s ear. “I won’t let anyone sneak up on you. I’ll steer you away from danger. And you can command me to do just about anything. If I don’t understand, I’ll let you know.”

“You made her in one night?” Mira asked Liam.

“Sort of,” Liam replied. “I repurposed one of my best spy birds. But I completely reshaped and refined her, added some spunk.”

“She’s so lifelike,” Mira said.

“Few shapers could manage such a creation,” Declan said. “Flying semblances are hard. Personalities are harder. None of us can replicate lifelike humans and other beasts to match the ones the Western Cloudwall creates. Semblances like Lyrus are uniquely realistic.”

“Could Lyrus come with us?” Cole asked.

“I would relish nothing more than an adventure,” the soldier said.

“I’m aware,” Declan replied. “But nothing we can do would allow you to leave here and survive. That aspect of you is beyond any of our abilities to tamper with. It would be like trying to shape an actual human—there is too much complexity to cause anything but disaster. The semblances from the sky castles can only survive on the castles or here on the peninsula.”

“Then why can Mango come with us?” Cole asked.

“It is easier to make semblances out here beyond the Brink,” Declan said. “Most of the semblances and renderings we create can’t leave. But with effort, we can design semblances and renderings that could survive elsewhere in Sambria, just as most nonliving renderings from the sky castles can survive elsewhere.”

“Forgive me if I spoke out of turn,” Lyrus said, head bowed.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Declan said. “If I could make a gift of you to help these young people on their way, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“You’ve already done so much,” Mira said. She made eye contact with Asia, Jamar, and Liam. “Thank you for the gifts.”

“We’re not done yet,” Declan said, sounding mildly offended. “I haven’t given you mine.”

“There’s more?” Mira asked.

“How about this for starters?” He waved an arm in a wide gesture and Cole felt his wrist tingle.

All four kids investigated the sensation. Cole saw that the mark tattooed there had changed.

Jace gasped. “It’s a freemark,” he said reverently.

“That’s right,” Declan said. “It would be difficult to go abroad marked as slaves.”

“You can’t change a bondmark!” Mira exclaimed.

Declan gave a small smile. “Most people can’t. They’re designed to be permanent. The shaper who developed them was a student of mine.”

“Just like that,” Twitch said, rubbing his wrist.

“It looks real,” Jace marveled.

“It is real,” Declan said. “Those new marks are indistinguishable from authentic freemarks. They have been reshaped. No traces of the original bondmarks remain. No shaper or needle master can claim otherwise.”

“I can hardly believe it,” Mira said.

“There’s more,” Declan said. “Join me outside.”

Declan moved a finger and his chair hovered up and away from the table. Advancing at a pace that let the others keep up, he led the way to the courtyard. At first Jace didn’t follow the others. It took a nudge from Cole to stop him from staring at his freemark.

Beyond the castle doors, an odd carriage awaited in the courtyard. The enclosed compartment rode on four wheels—not fancy, but clean and well crafted. At the front, instead of a horse, there stood a huge black brick with legs.

“An autocoach,” Jace said.

“For us?” Mira asked hopefully.

“For you,” Declan said. “I could have modified it to move faster. I could have made it more elaborate. But I thought it wiser to make it as typical as possible.”

“Won’t it raise suspicions to see four kids with their own autocoach?” Twitch asked. “Free or not.”

“Astute,” Declan said. “Wearing nice clothes will help, which is why we updated your wardrobes. The last part of my gift also tried to address that problem. Bertram?”

The door to the autocoach opened, and an old man with a close-cropped white beard leaned out. He was dressed in a slightly shabby, old-fashioned suit. “What was that? My hearing isn’t so keen.”

“State your business,” Declan ordered.

The old man’s eyes widened. “How’s that? My business?” He absently patted his pockets. “Yes, well, if I wish to show my grandniece and grandnephews a bit of the countryside, I suppose it is my business. That’s enough chatterboxing. I feel past my prime today, and my joints ache something terrible.” Coughing, he closed the carriage door and leaned back out of view.

“That’s quite a semblance,” Mira said.

“Not my best work,” Declan lamented. “Don’t look to him for profound conversations. But Bertram should hold up well enough while you remain in Sambria. He won’t leave the carriage unless forced, mostly because I doubt his authenticity can withstand close inspection. But he should serve to deflect attention if questions get asked about four youngsters traveling alone.”

“Four kids and an old man,” Cole muttered. “What if somebody decides to rob us?”

“We’ll have our gear,” Jace said. “Right?”

“Your items are already stowed in the autocoach,” Liam said. “I strengthened the shaping of the Jumping Swords to help ensure they would hold up through Sambria. The other objects should continue to function very well.”

“How’s my rope?” Jace asked, an edge to his voice. “It wasn’t working last I saw.”

“It was still functional,” Liam corrected. “I had merely severed its connection to you so it wouldn’t respond to your commands.”

“Will it now?” Jace asked.

“I restored the connection,” Liam assured him. “You don’t have to act so put out. I was doing you a favor. Asia would have cut the rope.”

“The rope is tough to cut,” Jace said.

“Maybe with normal weapons,” Liam replied. “Asia’s blade has a miraculous edge. It would have slashed through your rope like it was smoke, and your rendering would have been ruined, probably permanently.”