The griffin was a noble beast even in death, twice the size of a cart horse, wings spread open where it had crashed into the rocks. Its wingspan was what made the corpse appear as feather-grass from a distance. The body and head were hidden by being jammed down between the rocks.

Jirvy stood at the breast of the griffin, between its massive forelegs and wicked claws, not that the claws would ever hurt anyone again. He shouted, “I found it.”

Coming up, Xilsi said, “I hope you checked for Spore first.”

“Leave off your carping, will you?” Jirvy snapped. “Spore can’t take hold in dead things.” Then, in an altered tone of respect, “Your Highness. I’ve found a crossbow bolt.”

He stepped back and held out the bolt, a gloved hand closed over the fletching.

The haunt bent forward to examine the shaft and the head smeared with dried fluids. He took a few sniffs. “Any other weapon?”

“None I could find.”

“Wrap the point carefully, and don’t touch it. Fulmo must examine it.”

“Do you think the griffin was poisoned, Your Highness?” asked Simo.

“Does it not appear strange to you? A single bolt to bring down a griffin? By the evidence of this scene, I would say the beast plummeted out of the sky and the rider had no recourse. But perhaps I am reading too much into the evidence.”

“If it pierced the heart,” said Simo.

“I don’t think this bolt penetrated far enough to reach the griffin’s heart,” said Jirvy. He set down the bolt, stripped off his warden’s coat and tabard, and removed his undershirt to display a well-honed torso, although it was impossible for Elen to ignore the whip scars on the man’s back and a raggedly healed scar above his hip. Xilsi moved abruptly away to examine the contents of the rider’s travel pouch.

After pulling on tabard and coat, Jirvy wrapped the point and shaft in the undershirt and secured it with a leather cord. “The fletching’s interesting too,” he noted. “It’s southern, commonly found among the hunters of Makepeace Forest. They borrowed the rounded, low-cut tail feather fletching from the Forest Wolves who live farther south. It’s quieter for hunting.”

Xilsi looked up and gestured to get everyone’s attention. “Someone’s robbed this corpse!”

Elen’s hand convulsed, and she carefully looked at the ground.

“What do you mean?” said the haunt, who was still holding the brass ornament.