“Deputy Courier,” said Kem in his most courteous voice, “perhaps you might help me with the horses.” He handed her four blankets but made no further comment as he walked away to drape and tie the blankets he’d kept over the carriage horses, who were beginning to shiver. Elen did the same with the riding mounts. She hung the lamp from a post and went to examine the watering trough outside the entrance to the stable. The trough had water in it that looked clean enough; she broke its skin of ice with a few taps from her knife. Kem took a bucket of water to each horse in turn—not too much!—while Elen parceled oats into feedbags. Tension made her stiff and clumsy, or perhaps she was clumsy because she kept turning her head to check on the pacing haunt.

“Your Highness, I request an audience.” Luviara’s voice startled her, coming as it did from out of the darkness by the carriage.

The haunt’s footsteps did not alter or slow. “What is it?” he said curtly.

“If it please you, Your Highness, why did you not tell me about the attack on the griffin scout?”

“Because you are not a warden.”

“Young Kem here is not a warden.”

“He is a novice warden.” The haunt’s tone was hard, even dismissive.

Kem shot a nervous look at Elen as if to say, What do I do? She gave the hand sign that meant to let it go, often used in years past when he had started an argument with his mother over some trivial dispute. Giving Elen a nod, he dipped the empty bucket into the trough and headed back to another horse.

“So, I am the only one who did not know?” Luviara’s tone was dark. “How can I act as your interlocutor if you do not trust me, Your Highness?”

He stopped as abruptly as if he’d been brought up short by a wall. “Luviara, go to the chamber of records in the tower. See what you can find. Any correspondence from the palace. Any messages that might offer a clue to where the wardens and their menials have gone.”

No one could refuse a direct order from a prince. Luviara hesitated for one breath, then took and lit a lantern. With several backward glances, her expression too shadowed to be visible, she went up the ramp and into the tower. Seen through the glaze of the tower windows, the light slowly ascended.

The haunt said, “I am going to the latrine.”

Kem set down the full bucket he was carrying. “Your Highness, you’re meant to stay here in the courtyard. That’s what Captain Simo said.”