William threw himself on the single bed that sat to one side of the room, the soft mattress immediately emulsifying his tense muscles. The journey to get here had taken them longer than was necessary—this according to Uda; William had no previous experience to compare it to. Thanks to the dark tinted carriage that had been trailing behind them since they left the village, they had to take a different course, a more complicated one.
It was merely an insignificant delay for his ever prepared guardian and the quiet driver of the redwood carriage, which had been their inconspicuous vehicle waiting as they came out of their four by four shack. With Uda's steady commands to take sharp unexpected turns every so often, it hadn't been difficult to lose the tracker.
This made William wonder: How dangerous was this journal really was, if it had seemed so effortless, even to him, to lose their track?
