Luviara scoffed impatiently. “Griffin scouts, like sarpa, belong to the imperial army, under the direct command of the emperor. Does the prince mean to inform the emperor, or is it his intention to let the matter of the dead scout remain a mystery?”

“I am but a deputy courier, Your Worthiness. How am I to know the answer? How could I know the answer?”

“His Highness has been speaking to you a great deal. You can’t think we haven’t all noticed it. It’s quite out of order.”

Elen looked her in the eye, growing bored of what seemed to her like jockeying for position within a palace hierarchy that meant nothing to a mere deputy courier. Anyway, she was tired, and heart-sore, and she wanted to go home. Home.

As a child, she had never dreamed that she might ever have a home, yet there Orledder Halt rested in her mind, waiting for her to return.

“Worthy Interlocutor, I do not have answers for you. In fact, I am surprised you would ask me. You ought to know I have done nothing but accomplish the task I was given. Which, if I may remind you, was to guide the prince-warden and his party across Grinder’s Cut, so His Exalted Highness could swiftly reach Far Boundary Vigil. Here we are. I’m done. The moment I am released, I will return to Orledder Halt.”

Any other worthy interlocutor and holy theurgist would have been offended by this bold statement. With a slight smile, Luviara said, “How do you mean to get back there?”

“I have two good feet, and I’m grateful for them.”

Luviara snorted. “It’s a long way.”

“I’m used to walking. Perhaps the exalted highness and his party will be returning that way, too, since the Vigil appears to be deserted. Unless you have news of the garrison.”

“Not yet. Jirvy is searching the grounds.”

“I pray the missing are found alive and well. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll water and feed the horses.”

“That duty was assigned to Novice Kem.”

“Yes. But he’s asleep, and I don’t mind doing it. How is the prince, if I may ask?”

Her eyebrows flashed up. “I’m surprised it wasn’t the first thing you asked. Are you not concerned for his health?”

The words were a fishing line, seeking information. “I thought fainting was something His Exalted Highness does on occasion, as happened at the Spires.”

“By no means. He’s famous for his remarkable stamina and vitality.”

“You make him sound like a horse.”

Luviara smiled with a flash of her old good humor. “Never say that in front of the others. But, truly, some say he is the winning steed in the emperor’s private stables.” Her look at Elen was measuring, inviting confidences. Secrets.