Alive, Anji thought. But the hillside was silent and still.

“Ha!” the Ox boomed, slapping the Goat’s shoulder. “I knew it. Pay up.” She held out a thick-fingered hand as the Goat grunted and reached into the folds of his leathers. Her voice reminded Anji of her aunt’s—rich and raspy, ever on the edge of a laugh. Belle had taken to smoking cadroot in her later years, and before she’d left for Conifor the effects had started to show not only in her speech, but in the brownish tint of her nails and her efforts climbing the steps to her apartment. Judging by the Ox’s hale movements, however, she’d never touched the stuff.

“Bet was that I’d kill her,” said the Goat, but he still dropped two Celdia clinking into the woman’s hand. “Not that she’d go missing.”

The Ox pocketed the money and gestured at the empty trail. “Don’t see a dead Hawk anywhere.” She planted her hands on her ample hips and scanned the folded foothills. “And I doubt she’s missing.”

Anji followed her gaze, easing farther onto the stone seat. Her hand grazed a loose sliver of rock, sharp to the touch. She kept her head still.

“We’ll sort her out,” said the Goat, more to himself than the woman at his side, who hooked a thumb at Anji.

“Why is she bleeding?”

“Fell down.”

The Ox sucked her teeth and stepped toward Anji. “I’m Ox,” she said, patting her chest. “You must be Anji.”

Anji raised a brow. This was much more like the Menagerie she’d heard of, the congenial and unshakable sort she and her friends had pretended to be. The heroes she’d sung about.

“Not too talkative just now,” said the Goat, “but it’s her.”

The Ox jerked her head around. “Did you give her the Insights?”

“Figured you’d want to do it.”

Heart hammering, Anji shifted her hand to cover the sliver of sharp stone just as the Ox rounded on her once more.

“Did Hawk recite anything to you when you were captured?”

Anji shook her head. “She didn’t tell me anything. Mostly she wanted me to be quiet.”

“Can’t imagine why,” said the Goat.

“Right,” said the Ox, straightening. She set one hand on the hilt of a short, stubby sword scabbarded at her belt, and said, “You are hereby held in acquisition under the noble jurisdiction of the Conclave Wardens Sun and the Eighty-Seventh Senate of House Demuratia, long may they reign.”

“Long may they reign,” said the Goat.

“Oversight of said acquisition,” continued the Ox, “conducted henceforth by First Constabulary Cadre Menagerie, Initiates of the One Path and eternal servants to the Conclave Wardens of Sun and the One All High.”

Great, Anji thought, more religious yapping.