The haunt raised a hand languidly to acknowledge their presence.

Luviara stood to speak. “Inform the Manor’s lord that His Exalted Highness Gevulin, Prince-Warden of the Imperial Order of Wardens, Exalted General of the All-Seeing Eye, Captain of a Thousand, Adept of the Bow and the Spear…”

As Luviara rang down through all the prince’s titles, Elen’s attention caught on the Manor’s burning ground. Its circular pavement of holystone lay about one hundred paces to the left of the bridge. An iron pillar stood at the center of the pavement, with a shrive-steel cage built around it. No burning ground in Orledder Intendancy had been lit since the Wormwood Irruption.

Shockingly, this burning ground held a fresh corpse, collapsed against the pillar to which it had been fastened by wire. Bones peeked whitely from the soot-blackened remains of flesh. There was no sign of incinerated Spore, which often showed up as a crackling ice-like crust that, over several days, would be absorbed by the holystone. The executed individual had not been Spore-ridden, which meant they had been burned to death for a different reason.

Ipis shuddered, her whole body shaking. “That’s a Sea Wolf.”

Kem gasped as he stared at the grimly contorted remains. “A Sea Wolf! How do you know?”

“The white chain around its neck. They all wear them. The links are carved out of the bones of their ancestors. They don’t burn. But why would a Sea Wolf be here?”

“A spy,” said Xilsi. “Aivur send the ones who look human enough.”

“Where would such a spy have come from? Woodfall Province has got no ports, no beaches, no rivers connected to ocean. No way for them to sail in. It’s months of travel to walk all the way from the far west.”

“That’s what spies do, gather information by risking themselves for months or years in enemy territory,” said Xilsi. “Now, hush. Luviara is finally finished. We’re going in.”

The guards shifted the railing to allow them access over the bridge and into the protected zone. But the forward carriage didn’t move. Instead, the haunt jumped down and, signing for the others to stay where they were, paced out to the burning ground. Hands clasped behind his back, he circled the holystone sun-wise, then circled back counter-sun-wise, then walked onto the pavement as everyone stared. What was he doing? No one dared ask.

He opened the cage’s door, approached the remains, and knelt an arm’s length from their twisted jumble. With a gloved hand, he picked up something from the ground, studied it, then tucked it into a pocket. For a while longer, he crouched in contemplation, then rose and returned to the carriage. Without a word, he climbed back up and waved his fingers to show he was ready to proceed.

“What was that all about?” Ipis whispered.

“Quiet,” said Xilsi as they started forward.