I shrieked out loud, out of sheer frustration. “How far is it to the next ferry? We’ll have to go days out of our way!”

The mansa tapped my arm. “Enough, Catherine! Drake’s people can’t have had time to hunt down and burn every farmstead along the river. We can cross by rowboat. Four Moons land begins on the other side of the river, so we do not need the coach anymore. Many a path runs through backcountry to the main house. We may still reach the estate in time to assemble enough magisters on the main road to crush James Drake’s flames.”

Shaking with rage, I settled back into the seat as the mansa told the coachman his plan. Then the eru latched the shutters and closed the door, leaving us in darkness.

The mansa shaped a globe of cold fire. “Are we to be shut up like prisoners?”

A mouth glimmered on the latch. “I like it when he does that. Can he make more pictures?”

“Obviously we are promised secrets and then denied them!” I snapped, giving the latch a dark stare, although both Bee and the mansa did stare at me, for they could not hear the latch. Rory yawned, looking amused.

Two eyes like silvery stitches winked. “The other cold mage drew illusions of your face while you were sleeping, when he thought you weren’t looking.”

Oblivious to the latch’s voice, the mansa went on. “Certainly these creatures have held their secrets close against themselves all this time. Servants ought not to act as if they are the masters. Such disrespect sows discord and disorder in the world.”

“It’s starting to get very stuffy in here,” remarked Bee to the air.

“Is that what you call a secret?” I said, to the latch. “I already knew that!”

The mansa frowned. “I have indulged the two of you for many days now. But this is truly more than I can be expected to endure.” He reached for the latch.

The gremlin’s mouth stretched until its line ran the length of the latch, ready to bite.

For an instant I was tempted to let events play out on the unsuspecting mansa, but instead I set my hand on the latch so he could not. “Do not forget, Your Excellency, that the coach and eru serve another master.”

“And you trust them?”

The latch licked my palm with its scratchy tongue, then said, muffled by my hand, “Can I help it if all I ever know about is what I see in here? I thought you were asleep and didn’t know he had done that.”

“I do trust them,” I said, removing my hand and giving the latch a stern side-eye glance.

The mansa studied me with a thoughtful frown. “Very well. In this, you have the advantage of me.”