“Someday you will, by the grace of the High Heavens,” said Simo, then turned to the haunt. “Your Highness? What now?”

The haunt paced the limits of the courtyard, head cocked as if listening, or as if something was hurting him and he was trying to shake it loose. He didn’t answer, so Simo went on.

“With your permission, Your Highness, we will search the tower and the outbuildings while you wait here.”

“You won’t find anyone,” said the haunt in a tone that rang like a threat. “I sense no living people here except us.”

“Of course, Your Highness. But we’ll search regardless. Jirvy, light three lamps. Xilsi and Ipis, take the tower. Jirvy and I will search the outbuildings. Kem, care for the horses.”

“Should I stable them, get them under shelter in case it rains?” Kem asked.

Slowly, Simo turned a full circle, alert to any possible hint of light, sound, or movement. If any of the Vigil’s garrison was alive, they had to be unconscious or hidden somewhere farther away, because they certainly could not have missed the noise of their arrival.

“I don’t like this at all,” Simo said, “so for now just keep them warm. Let them drink and eat a little, but sparingly, in case we need to leave quickly. I hope it doesn’t come to that.” He paused, watching the man he knew as his prince.

The haunt’s pacing hadn’t slackened. If anything, he was picking up speed as if goaded by an unseen spirit. As if he could not rest, or even stand still, so close to the Pall. Was it calling to him in the same way it called to the viper?

A crushing weight settled on Elen’s chest.

He meant to leave.

He had to leave.

The captain cleared his throat to get the prince’s attention, and the haunt swung around to look at him. “Your Highness, if you’ll remain here with the horses and the others…”

The haunt said nothing, went back to his pacing.

The four wardens readied their weapons and headed out, Xilsi and Ipis up the ramp into the tower and Jirvy and Simo into the area that held the kitchen, barracks, stable, and storerooms.