“We know that the Pentadrians are not far from the mountains,” Lanren said. “The more time we have to reach and fortify our position in the pass, the better. If the Dunwayan army should come through the mountains, they can set traps along the way, slowing the Pentadrians’ progress.” And they’ll enjoy doing it, Lanren added silently.

Juran smiled. “Indeed, they might.” He looked at his fellow White. Each nodded once. He turned back to the Dunwayan ambassador. “Please convey our assessment and suggestions to I-Portak. Tell him we would prefer it if he joined us here, but respectfully acknowledge the risk that would entail. We leave the decision for him to make.”

The ambassador nodded. “I will.”

Juran looked down at the map, pursed his lips, then straightened. “This evening’s reports on the Pentadrians’ position have not yet come. Let us have an early meal, then return to consider our journey to the pass. I would like to include the Siyee in that discussion.”

Many of the room’s occupants looked relieved. Lanren suppressed a wry smile. While none had walked more than a few steps of the journey from Jarime, they were all tired. They had had little sleep each night, since discussions usually continued long past midnight. Lanren was not the only one who had adapted to sleeping while sitting upright in a rocking, jolting tarn.

As always, Lanren hung back and noted who left the tent with whom. He saw Auraya catch Danjin Spear’s eye. The man already looked a little less lost. Then something small dashed into the tent and launched itself at Auraya.

“Owaya! Owaya!”

All turned to see a small gray creature run up Auraya’s circ and onto her back. He began to race from one shoulder to another, panting with excitement.

“Hello, Mischief,” Auraya said, her eyes bright with amusement. “I’m happy to see you, too. Here, let me—I’ll just—will you stay still for a moment?”

He dodged her hand, then paused to lick her ears.

“Argh! Mischief! Stop that!” she exclaimed. She winced and lifted him down, then held him firmly against her chest with one hand, while scratching his head with the other. The creature gazed up at her adoringly.

“Owaya home.”

“Yes, and hungry,” she told him. She looked up at Danjin. “You?”

“Yes,” Danjin replied.

Her smile widened. “Then let’s see what we can rustle up. You can tell me what Mischief has been up to while I’ve been gone.”

“Plenty,” Danjin told her wryly.

As they walked out of the tent, Lanren felt a familiar nagging feeling. It was a feeling he had when he had just seen something that might prove to be important. Something about the exchange he’d witnessed.

Or was it simply the possibilities inherent in the veez itself that nagged at his thoughts. The creatures could be useful as scouts or couriers.