They stayed in Victoria River for less than a day after that, long enough for Charlotte to check that the bodies of the native tribe had been buried. Once again, Spencer and Vincent stood with the horses while she went to check, disappearing through the trees for more than ten minutes. Neither man said a word while they waited, occasionally glancing at each other in apprehension.

When she came back, there was a scowl on her face and her fists were clenched tightly at her sides. "Did they-" Vincent started, but she cut him off with a curt nod.

Charlotte climbed into the waiting carriage with barely a word to anyone and a short nod at the driver. Nicholas waited for her in there, closing the door with a disapproving look at Spencer. Pursing his lips, Vincent tapped Spencer's wrist in an attempt to be comforting and hopped on the back of Sparks.

The vireen he had stolen the night before sat in the bags on Sparks' side, waiting for him to hold them again. Just like the last time he had touched one of them, he could still feel the effect the morning after. From their small conversation before they met up with Charlotte and the rest of the party, Spencer was having the same issue.

Luckily for them, it didn't work if they weren't touching it. Safely tucked in the bags, they weren't going to make his senses anymore acute than they already were. How they were able to mine the stuff, he had no idea, but they had to have done some kind of research into it. Vincent might not be the smartest man out there, living on an orphanage education, but even he knew that they would have found some way for the miners to not pass out while they were down there.

Once they passed through Victoria River one final time, they headed west along a well worn track. Unlike a lot of the roads Vincent would take between towns, this one was far more populated. A few people on horses and a couple of carts passed them by, watching the carriage and its protection with barely hidden looks of jealousy.

People weren't the only things that passed them on the road. Birds flew above them, squawking loudly. Between the eucalyptus trees, he saw something his caretaker at the orphanage liked to call a roo, but he was never sure if that was the actual name for the strange creature. He'd seen pictures of Nuran animals in his books when he was a child, and the ones that lived in Ilsania were far stranger than any of the ones in the pictures.

It was a surprise that he could get so lost in his thoughts after everything that had happened the day before. He could assume that it was the vireen, but he couldn't be certain. Maybe it was the thrill of having stolen something again. It always left him feeling giddy and greedy. After weeks of not stealing anything but cutlery, it was good to do it again. That was what he had lived for, after all. The thrill of it all, stealing and fighting and running from those who wanted to stop him. If only he hadn't gone running to them at the first sign of real trouble.

Hours after they left Victoria River, Mira trotted by his side, no sign of her usual smile. "What happened yesterday?" she asked under her breath. "All the other guards were talking about how you had an outburst."

Of course they whispered about it. They were nothing but judgemental. "We found dead natives near the mine. They weren't buried, just left there," he answered, not meeting her questioning gaze. Instead, his eyes sought out Spencer, who walked a fair distance ahead, alone.

"That's awful," Mira replied, loud enough for Spencer to look over his shoulder at them. He pursed his lips and slowed down until he was trotting by Vincent's other side, curiosity in his eyes. Mira flashed a smaller version of her usual smile. "Vincent was just telling me what happened yesterday."

"Disgusting," Spencer spat.

"I mean, we've been searching for the tribes around New Feridian, not that we've found anything, but when I worked for another Mister Bowers, there was a tribe that attacked some of his workers," she explained and let out a soft sigh. "We buried them, we had that much respect at least."

Mira might have mentioned Spencer's brother and while Vincent was extremely curious about it, there was something else that made him even more worried. "There aren't any tribes around New Feridian?" he asked. "I know you said you were having trouble finding them, but..."

"It's like they were never there," Mira said.

Vincent shook his head and went to speak, but was interrupted by the small window in the carriage opening. Charlotte's tired face peered out, searching until she found him trotting along next to Spencer. "You two, come here," she said in a voice far more commanding than he had ever heard before.

It was hard to walk alongside her carriage with Spencer next to him, but they somehow managed it. She watched them both for a second, a strange look in her eyes. Nicholas sat next to her, deliberately not looking their way. The longer he was in the disgruntled man's presence, the more Vincent wanted to pack up and leave.

Charlotte sighed, long and tired. "I'm sorry about what you two saw yesterday. It shouldn't have happened," she said, her head bobbing as the carriage trundled across the uneven road. "When I give permission for people to deal with native tribes, I always expect them to be dealt with properly, with respect. That is something I haven't been keeping a close eye on and will be doing so from now on.

"I know what you must think. I have the feeling the two of you have met more natives than I ever have, but they aren't civilised. They're savages who are attacking me and my people. If I want Morgot and the rest of Ilsania to flourish the way it should, then there are things that must be done. Nicholas is the one who fills me in on what's going on, he knows more about them than any of us."

Did he really though? Or was he just telling Charlotte what he believed the tribes to be? Vincent opened his mouth the question her, to tell her to go and look for herself before she sent the order for murder, but another voice interuppted him.

"Of course, Charlotte," Spencer said, the usual carelessness in his voice. "You don't owe either of us an explanation. We're only your guards, after all."

"But you understand, don't you? Why things were the way they were back in Victoria River. I need that mine running at full capacity," she said and there was a hint of desperation in her voice, as if she craved the approval of two criminals who weren't even supposed to be there.

No, he didn't understand and he probably never will. He wasn't educated, wasn't brought up to understand the ways of nobility and politics. He learned through experience, not through believing everything he was told. But he did know that the only reason she wanted the mine to function properly was so that she could get her hands on the vireen they had found in there the night before.

Spencer gave her a pat on the hand that held onto the tiny windowsill. "We understand. You don't need to worry, Charlotte. Isn't that right, Vincent?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at him.

The smile he gave him would have appeared normal to anyone else, but Vincent could see the hints of desperation and nervousness hidden in there. "That's right," he said with a short nod.

"Thank you, boys," she said with a short huff of relief. "I know you were upset. You shouldn't have had to see that. I just wanted to make sure that we were all on the same page."

Vincent couldn't exactly say that he was, but Spencer had already stolen the words from his mouth. He wanted to question it, to demand what was so important about the mine that she found murder necessary, even if he already knew most of the answers. He was too curious for his own good, but he was quieter about it than Spencer. Although even he seemed to have learned that it was best to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

He drew back while the Governor spoke more with Spencer, who was back to his usual joking mood. It was hard to tell if it was fake or not, but after everything he had seen in the last few weeks, the anger, the sadness, he had to assume it was. How long had Spencer been faking it? How long had he been acting like he was happy all the time? Somehow, Vincent hadn't noticed until then, despite believing and taking pride in the fact that he knew more about the man than anyone else.

He wanted to speak with Spencer about the tribes, about the mine, about everything, but as the hours passed, he spent most of his time talking with Charlotte and acting like nothing was wrong. It was for the best, but they hadn't had much of an opportunity to talk about anything once they left the mine the night before. Both of them had been overwhelmed and exhausted and had fallen asleep the moment they were back in their rooms.

Now that they had the vireen, they needed to practice with it so it didn't take such a large toll on them. Those who started smoking vireen never knew how to handle it at first. It took time and a lot of practice. Vincent had been twelve when he started, not that long after he had left the orphanage, and had struggled to control himself at first. It was the same with the rock.

The issue was, they were constantly being watched. Unless they were given a room in an inn again, they wouldn't have the free time or space to mess around with it. How powerful would his gun be with that rock? What about his knife? And then there was Spencer. How sharp would his blade be?

Those were the thoughts that plagued him as they rode through the day. He was far too curious about it all and with the rocks sitting in his bags, so close to him, he longed to pull one out and learn all he could about it. Resisting that urge was hard, but as the sun rose and then fell towards the horizon, he distracted himself with his surroundings and the occasional animal that dared not to hide from them.

The town they ended up in was quiet when they arrived, the light from the setting sun bathing it in dark orange light. Fields of crops spanned as far as he could see, the occasional person and scarecrow dotted between the tall plants. There wasn't much else to see aside from barns and farmhouses leading up to the main part of the town, a small clump of buildings that looked like they had seen better days.

Just like she had in Victoria River, Charlotte climbed from the carriage and went to speak with the mayor, a woman who looked barely a few years older than Vincent and Spencer. There weren't many people standing around to watch, most of them were in the fields, according to the young woman, desperately trying to get food before summer.

Vincent watched those in the fields in silence, keeping an ear out for whatever Charlotte and Nicholas were saying. "The people are starving, ma'am," the young woman said to them, panic in her voice. "They're angry, at me, at you, at everything. I no longer have the money to afford imports."

"I know, I know," Charlotte replied in a soothing voice. "I don't know what's happening. I've been talking with her Majesty over the last few months, but communication is slow. Nuran is struggling with a plague as well and are unable to send supplies. Vireen exports aren't making it anymore either. For the moment, we must suffer and do what we can. Is there any way I can help?"

But Vincent didn't get to hear the answer. Spencer was still next to him and while no one was paying attention said, "Strange, isn't it? How such uncivilised savages can sneak all the way through New Feridian and attack the Governor. They must be smarter than most people think."

"Or it's a lie," Vincent replied before he could think it through properly. The thoughts had been sitting in the back of his head since he'd arrived in New Feridian, but he hadn't given them much room to grow and spread.

"Glad I'm not the only one thinking that way," Spencer whispered, a smirk tugging at his lips. Sparks let out a snort and stamped her foot. She must be tired after such a long walk. Hopefully they would be staying the night so she could rest.

He gave her a quick pat on her neck before he replied. "Mira did say that they hadn't found any tribes nearby, they couldn't just disappear though. I don't see why Nicholas would lie," he told him. "What would be the point?"

"I don't know. Intriguing, isn't it?" he asked, his smirk turning into a bright grin.

"Don't get too involved, Spencer, it's dangerous. And it isn't our business," he replied and glanced over at the Governor. Both her and Nicholas were still distracted, giving them more than enough time to have their little conversation.

Spencer scoffed at him. "Still on that whole 'I just want to do my job' thing, huh? At the moment, your job doesn't make much sense. Don't you want to know why?" he asked. Of course, he did, but he wasn't there to get involved in politics and meddle with the Governor's life. Although, he'd already done that enough, sneaking around and stealing things from mines. What was the harm in learning more about what exactly he was doing there? "Besides, what if I want a little danger?"

Vincent let out a long sigh. He wanted to know what exactly was happening, what was going on with the vireen and the supposed threat on the Governor's life. He shouldn't have been so curious, not about Charlotte, but he couldn't help it. "Of course I want to know why," he replied. "I just don't want to get killed doing it."

"We won't," Spencer said, but his words could rarely be trusted.

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said, expecting some kind of quip in response. Instead, he was met with silence. "Spencer?"

He was staring past Vincent, into the fields of crops. Charlotte and Nicholas were still talking to the woman when he turned, following Spencer's gaze. It took a moment to figure out what he was looking at, but when he found it, he bit down hard on his bottom lip. Someone stood in the middle of the field, staring at another figure approaching them.

Even at such a distance, it was easy to tell that the figure walking through the crops wasn't Nuran born, but a native of Ilsania. The person they approached stood among the wilted plants that should have grown up to their shoulders, but instead, barely made it up to their waist. They didn't try to run, just stood and watched.

The native had something in his hands and it took Vincent a second to realise that they were holding a bundle of plants in a wicker basket. A gift. They were bringing the person in the crops a gift of food and safety, just like they had for Vincent when he had almost died. Savages, they had been called, but it was the least savage thing he could witness.

The bang that rang out was quiet, but he still heard it. It wasn't until the native fell into the crops that he registered what had happened. The Nuran born in the fields had their arms out, the pink sheen on vireen smothering their gun. Vincent's hands tightened on the reins as disgust flowed through him.

"They were just bringing a gift, why kill them?" he muttered, not caring who heard him. It had been a senseless murder. How many times had it happened? How many people had been killed just for trying to help?

"They're still alive," Spencer said, pointing into the fields. The native was standing, a hand clutching at their shoulder as they shuffled back the way they came.

Vincent shook his head, anger threatening to rear its ugly head. "The infection will kill them," he said and looked away right as the person in the fields picked up the wicker basket of food. All that just to take what they have been offering. What was the point?

Ahead of them, Charlotte and Nicholas were walking away, the latter gesturing for the rest to follow. With a nudge of Spencer's arm to draw his attention, he pushed Sparks into motion. Despite the glare he shot her, Charlotte never once looked back at him, as if she hadn't even heard the gunshot in the first place.

He couldn't sit quietly anymore, could he? Spencer had tried to silence him back on the road, but that was the last thing Vincent wanted. Someone had to be angry on their behalf, because no one Nuran born was going to fight for them. Yes, they could fight for themselves, but he wanted to do everything he could, and that meant speaking up whenever possible, fighting whenever possible.

He wanted to scream at Charlotte, to show her what her compliance was doing, but what could he, a bushranger, a criminal, ever hope to accomplish? The ways of the world were out of his control, all he could do was watch and get angry, so angry he didn't know how to hide it any longer. But with nothing to unleash it upon without getting himself killed, he would have to wait for whatever Spencer wanted to do. And when the time came, he would be right there with him.