Merciful Heavens! Was that what she wanted? To speak to the haunt again, even if he had stolen the prince’s body? Yet hadn’t the haunt said he had to be invited in? No, that wasn’t what he had said. He’d told her that he would ask, but he hadn’t said he had to ask in order to possess a body. Only that he promised to return Kem’s body “unharmed,” as if a haunt could be believed. What was a haunt, after all, if not a soul caught between this world and the judgment of the High Heavens, where it had refused to go? To walk in this world, he had to inhabit someone else’s body. That was theft.

Even beyond all that, he hadn’t answered her question when she’d asked if he was a sorcerer.

Luviara appeared at her side. “Deputy Courier, as you are finished with your morning ablutions, I require your answers to my questions. Attend me, if you please. We will depart as soon as the prince returns from his dawn perambulation.”

Elen looked into the camp. Snip was folding up the cot she had slept on, and the concubines were unrigging the deck’s curtains. The cook was sealing up a traveling pot of hot tea for the road, while his assistants stowed the traveling kitchen. “They’re moving fast.”

“Palace menials perform their duties well, or they wouldn’t still be in the palace. This way.”

Luviara led Elen across the path, keeping clear of the cluster of wardens, and led her toward the statues. She halted before they reached the causeway, thank goodness. From this distance, the head that so uncannily resembled Prince Gevulin’s couldn’t be clearly seen.

“The prince has told us to make ready to depart and to not stray toward the Spires because there is no time to fetch us back. I was not invited to go with the party that entered the ruins last night. I confess to the sharpest curiosity. You have been inside?”

“I have. I walk this circuit every month, the same route, as I have for ten years. I scout the ruins for Spore each season, as part of my regular rounds.”

“You know this place well.”

“I do know it well. Better than anyone alive, I daresay.”

“No false modesty for you, Deputy Courier.”

As if competence were something to apologize for! Jaw tight, Elen said, “I don’t have time for false modesty, Worthy Interlocutor. Pray, pardon my blunt speaking.”

“No, indeed, I welcome it. Tell me what you know of this place.”

Elen knew how to play this game. Give the minimum and make them ask for more. “The locals call it Three Spires. Inside, you will find a holystone pavement, a trough, and a pure-water spring.”

“An odd place to find a spring, I should think.”