“We didn’t break in. There was no breaking. And they gave me this book.”

“What a wonderful consolation prize that was.” Sheldon frowned. “We still have no horn.”

Something wasn’t right. She felt as if she had come home, dropped her pack, walked to her desk and sat down, only to realize she’d never heard her bag hit the floor. She’d let go of it, knew it had to land with its usual thud, yet she was distinctly aware there had been no sound. Something was that out of place, but she couldn’t identify what. Farilane began tracking the source of the discrepancy. It wasn’t the house, or the street, or the wind chimes, or the clapping door—it was Sheldon. He was the pack. Something about what he just said was—

“So are we going to wait to see if she wanders the streets at night?” Kile asked.

The princess rolled her eyes. The mystery of Sheldon and the Silent Pack could wait. For every bit of significant insight, Farilane often suffered a host of useless mental alerts. This was likely one of those. “Fine. Let’s go knock.”

Paving stones formed the walkway, nothing but simple squares. A few were loose and rocked. The door was equally modest, being made of old wood and wearing scars of age, including a slight warp so that it struggled to line up with the frame. She rapped on the door. They waited. Farilane looked at Kile and Sheldon, then knocked once more.

The door opened, just a crack. Two eyes peered out—green eyes. “Yes?”

“Hello,” Farilane said, trying to sound cheery, something she knew she was not good at. “We—ah, I’m looking for Sephryn of House Nyphron.”

“Were you on one of those tours? I’m sorry, but this house isn’t open to the public.” The door closed.

“I’m here to deliver a letter from Bran,” Farilane said to the imperfect, warped wood.

The door opened again, this time wide enough to reveal an elderly woman with thin white hair and troubled eyes. She took a moment to study Farilane, then she spotted Kile. The old woman’s eyes went wide. She took a long breath, swallowed, then as if she were surrendering to an arrest, she stepped back. “Come in, Princess.”

“You recognize me?”

“I do now. I’ve . . .” Her sight pulled back to Kile. “I have been expecting you.” The old woman turned and retreated toward a rocking chair near the burning hearth. “I just didn’t think it would be today.”

They all entered, and Sheldon closed the door.

“Please sit down, all of you.” The old woman took a seat, folded her hands in her lap, and smiled most insincerely. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friends, dear?”