Tri's heart sunk as they reached the highest point of the pass. Despite Salora having told them that it would take many more days if not weeks, Tri had hoped to see an end to the mountains once they made it this far. By now, Tri had lost count of how many mountain ridges they had crossed, and yet there were once again numerous peaks and valleys spread out in front of them. Tri let out a sigh and jumped back into the waggon. During the past five days, the horses had gotten used to her alternating between walking beside them and sitting in the waggon with the others. At first, Tri had still attempted to sit patiently, but there was simply no point to it. She would only get more and more restless, chewing Michael's ear off. She did not want to bother him, after all, he had made it possible for her to leave her home. Or rather, the place that had once been her home. Despite the weight on her shoulders, Tri reminded herself of the feeling of relief she had noticed when she had looked back on the second day and had been unable to see Limben in the distance.

They travelled most of every night and day, having a rest at dusk and dawn for the horses to relax. Salora was not very talkative and did not appear to sleep at all. Whenever Tri woke from her own slumbers, she saw the strange woman either leading the horses or working on some herbs, cutting, drying, or crushing them. Michael kept Tri good enough company, but even though she did not know him that well, it was clear to her that his mood was dampened ever since Limben had disappeared from view. Tri was glad to get away, but he clearly only left to be able to return to his family, helping them as best he could. His dedication and love for them impressed her, but she did not manage to put it into words. Instead, she would ramble about the weather, the plants and wildlife around them, or inquire about his family. She had no intention to talk about the people she had left behind. She felt betrayed by her relatives and guilty about Mathilda's destiny. Luckily, Michael had a lot to tell her about his loved ones, and there was a number of things she could tell him about the nature surrounding them thanks to those years when she had still been allowed to join her brothers to go hunting.

Other than that, the weather was constantly doing something or other. While they were both used to fast changing conditions in Limben at about half height of a mountain, up here near the peaks and in the wind channelling valleys, sun and storm could come and go within minutes with barely any warning. The few times they had been hit by hail, only the horses had been able to tell in time. Salora had picked up on their tension just in time, allowing for the horses to be detached from the cart, free to turn their behinds to the worst of the winds while their non-hooved companions had hidden in the waggon. Salora had given Tri and Michael an unfamiliar leaf each, telling them to put it on their tongues but not chew nor swallow it. She would not tell them what the plant was and what it did, but Tri felt relaxation come over her almost immediately and she obediently spat it back out when Salora told them to. The hail had still continued, but both Tri and Michael had simply nodded off to sleep, not waking until hours later, much further along the road.

Herbs appeared to be Salora's answer to everything. When the woman noticed that Tri was suffering with cramps, Salora simply slipped her a dark powder from one of her many little bags and told her to drink it with plenty of water. Within minutes, the pain subsided. Instead, Tri felt unbearably restless and jumped off the waggon to walk beside the horses again. It lasted a few hours before Tri returned to Salora, asking for more. Unfortunately, she was told that she should not take any more of this until the next morning, so Tri defeatedly sat back in the waggon, trying to make herself comfortable. The cramps returned, though weaker than before, and Tri made sure to thank Salora properly the next morning when she got more. Salora was also mixing some herbs into the horses' food, though Tri did not know what it was supposed to help them with. Perhaps sleep, or pain, or the cold? Michael had asked Salora about some of her mixtures early into their journey, but Salora had merely given him a smile. She clearly did not intend to let them in on her secrets.

Tri let her thoughts wander. She was trying to imagine what Perborough might look like. In her head, the city was made of white stones and the roofs were golden. There was a big castle, and all the streets were cobble stone. Tri smiled. Then she remembered the poorer parts of Limben, the farmhouses outside Welsborough, and the unmarked graves outside. Her vision turned darker, the polished part of the city shrank to a small inner circle, surrounded by high walls, keeping out the poor, the sick and the dying. Tri opened her eyes, not wanting to see what her mind was trying to show her, but the pictures kept forming in her head. The scrawny bushes along the path turned into starved children begging for almonds. She turned to look at Michael instead. He was alive, he was well. She looked at Salora. For a fraction of a moment, the black spots on the woman's green skin looked like blisters and bumps, just like Tri had seen depicted in painting of plague victims. Then Salora's dark eyes caught Tri's. It seemed as though she could read her mind. Tri could not avert her eyes. Her heart was beating fast and the pictures in her mind became more overwhelming. She barely noticed Michael talking to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. When Salora finally looked back at the horses, Tri regained control over herself.

"What did you say?" She looked at Michael, he seemed concerned.

"I asked whether you are alright."

"Yes, no, well, I think I am now. Thanks," Tri explained.

"You look terrified." Michael took his hand off her shoulder. She felt the warmth fading away.

"I just," Tri sighed. "I don't know, just some bad thoughts."

"About your family?" Michael sounded empathetic enough for Tri to supress the bitterness in her voice.

"No. I was thinking about what lies ahead. Ever since we've been to Welsborough, I can't stop seeing the suffering." Tri stared off into the distance, blinking away some tears.

"Me too." There was nothing else to say, so Michael was silent. Tri couldn't bear it, she wanted to change the topic to something light and fun, but her mind refused to give her anything that did not seem insignificant compared to the weight of her sadness. After several minutes, she finally came up with something.

"I can't decide for a new name," Tri admitted to him. Michael seemed confused at first, but then he remembered.

"So you want one then?"

"Well, even if I keep Tri, I have no family name. Nobody knows me in Perborough. No need to make them extra distrusting by keeping my heritage a mystery." Tri shrugged.

"What about your mother's maiden name?" Michael asked the question like it held no weight. Perhaps, to him, it did not, but Tri felt tears filling her eyes yet again.

"I," she began, but she broke into sobbing before she could say anything else. Michael apologized and gave her an awkward hug. When her vision cleared and her voice felt under control again, Tri explained that she did not even know her mother's maiden name. Growing up, she had been told her maternal family were all dead and her father never wanted her and her brothers to ask questions about them. "I suppose now that he disowned me, I'm practically an orphan." She gently wrung herself out of Michael's hug. "It's alright. Do you know how orphans get family names?"

"The ones whose parents are unknown you mean?" Tri nodded. "Well, I know of one case, a baby girl was left at the monastery's doorstep a few years ago. My brother is a monk there, you see, so we got to know about it. They named her Dorothy – a pun on the doorstep I think, and gave her the archbishop's name as a family name."

"Methodius?" Tri raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly. Dorothy Methodius. Does that help at all?"

"Well, I wasn't left at anybody's doorstep, if anything, I'd have to take your name because you and your family helped me." Tri looked into his eyes. "But I would not want to take the name without your permission. Oh and we can't have people thinking I was your wife, that would be terrible."

"Terrible?" Michael seemed more amused than offended.

"I just mean I can hardly go around having a nice time with people if they think I ought to be making a home for us or whatever."

"So your plan in Perborough is to go around having a nice time with people?"

"For now, yes. I can't find work or a place to stay without making some friends, can I?" Tri left a short pause but spoke on before Michael could reply. "So what do you think, would your family mind if I took on Graham as my name?"

"Ahem, well, no, I don't think they would. Maybe my father, but," Michael interrupted himself. "I think it's fine, there are many Grahams out there, who am I to tell others what to name themselves?"

"Great!" Tri jumped up and left the waggon. If there was anything Michael wanted to add, she did not hear it as she caught up with the horses. For now, her mind was in a good place, and she wanted to hold onto that, so she imagined what other Graham families there might be in the world. When Tri got bored with that, she came up with a dozen different scenarios in which she had to explain that yes, her name was also Graham, but no, they were not related, and no, they were not married either. It kept her busy until her mind wandered to other things again.