The transport left Korreth at the seventh hour.
It was not a leviathan. It was a ground transport, the eastern continental variety, which meant a covered wooden frame on wide-axle wheels pulled by two mana-conditioned draft animals that moved at the pace of animals that had been doing this route their entire lives and had strong opinions about deviations from it. The inside smelled like old cedar and the specific dust of roads that had been roads for a long time.
Denro climbed in and looked at the interior with the expression of someone recalibrating his expectations.
"I thought it would be bigger," he said.
"It fits six," Mara said. She was already seated, the cartography book open on her knee, her bag stowed with the efficiency of someone who had been packing and unpacking bags in various contexts since she was eight. "That is the relevant metric."
"The leviathan was bigger."
"The leviathan crosses an ocean," Mara said. "We are crossing a valley."
