That night, in the lesser officials’ barracks, a body slipped as if by accident into Elen’s bunk while she was in it. She punched hard at the stranger’s belly, and he choked, then burst into tears, for it was Berri, sobbing over his lost friend. So she let him lie there with her, both clothed, because he just wanted comfort, like puppies in a basket. So small a thing, and so hard to find. In the morning, when she woke, he was already gone.

At dawn on the fifth day, Elen and the wardens gathered in the courtyard of quiet Itumiel Halt’s hostel, waiting for their horses. The carriages were pulled up, ready to go. Xilsi grinned as the prince emerged from the imperial bower, looking stormy. Remarkably, even after several days, his hair had not yet been rebraided. It was getting more flyaway and shiny. Sometimes, when he thought no one was looking, he would scratch.

Intendant Berel hustled along behind him, bowing as she walked. “I pray you, Your Exalted Highness, I meant no offense. Such exalted attention would be a mark of honor for my sister. I have a young male cousin, if that is your preference. I did not mean to presume.”

He halted to look down his nose at her, a whirlwind of shadow in his face, as if his anger had taken wing. “Of course you meant to presume. You and your party will leave us. Now.”

Berel shrank back, clearly scared, but she had an avaricious streak and, in a wheedling tone, went on stubbornly. “But Your Highness, we will reach South Flat Vigil today.”

“I will reach South Flat Vigil today. You, on the other hand, may return to Farledder Halt or, frankly, ride into the Pall, if that is your preference.”

His gaze flashed to the portico. Berel’s sister had appeared in the doorway, her shoulders heaving with suppressed sobs as the handsome prince rode out of her life.

“That is all. You are dismissed.”

The wardens looked so pleased at this turn of events that Elen had to wonder what life had been like for them the last four days. As they rode out, Simo took the lead beside the haunt, who seemed restless and impatient, even snappish if anyone was foolish enough to try to talk to him. Maybe it was because they were nearing Flat Pall. Elen felt the inexorable pull of a powerful current tugging her body into darkness. Water, dragging her into its opaque depths.

Where did that memory of water come from? She shut her eyes, trying to remember, but all that was left was a vague impression of a night sky, brilliant with stars, and the salty slosh of water against her bare skin. It was an old memory from the nameless land, strange and troubling.