Occasionally they crossed another road along the way, but never once did they come to a house or a town. Aaron nervously wondered just where on the face of the earth he was, and thought of getting off at the next road they came to. But it might take him days before he met another person, someone who could point him to Craftsbury. He’d do better to stay with the ragman. When it grew too dim to see, they stopped for the night, and set off once again in the morning. The snow had melted away in patches, and they plied the road more easily now, the miles piling up behind them. Slowly the trees became fewer and fewer, and suddenly they were out of the forest entirely and rolling along among open meadows. Aaron looked about him in search of a landmark, but the land was new to his eyes. After several hours the trees gradually closed in upon the road, the light grew dim and they were in among woods once again. Still they’d passed no other traveler, come to no other town—and Aaron began to grow worried.
