Three individuals came up the path behind them. The first was a huffing-and-puffing elder aiding himself with a pair of walking sticks. The second was a farmer, a man about Elen’s own age, early thirties. The scrawny youth at the rear carried a bow and a quiver of arrows whose points were carved from scavenged holystone. Not that arrows would help if there was a Spore irruption, but it was better than no protection at all.

“Is that you, fair Elen, Honored Courier?” the farmer called in a wheedling tone that made her cringe. She did her best not to judge him harshly for the awkward way he fawned and flattered. He didn’t know any other way to speak to imperial officials, even one so inconsequential as a local intendant’s deputy courier. “We thought we’d missed you on your return from this month’s circuit. What a shame that would have been! I’ve a plea to make to you!”

Seeing that she’d stopped, the trio hastened their climb.

Kem snickered. “You think he’s going to ask again if you’ll marry him? Be a mother to his motherless brood? How many children did he sire on that poor woman before she died of exhaustion?”

“Let’s not be unkind to a person who knew no other road for her life. It isn’t me he’s enamored of. It’s what I represent. Something he’s never had.”

“What’s that?”

“Enough to eat more days than not. I know what it’s like to wake up hungry and go to bed even hungrier.”

“Mama used to say exactly that when I wouldn’t eat my beets. But she never would say more when I asked why you two got so hungry.”

“I expect she didn’t care to relate the details.” She fixed a smile to her face, the politely noncommittal one she brandished to good effect together with her facility for names, titles, and proper address. “Elder Marsilion. Tiller Urnesso. Deputy Sentinel Willomo. I greet you under the Shield of the Empire’s Benevolent Cloak. It is late. I fear you will be caught out after dark beyond your moat. No need to follow me. Best to return to your homes.”

Marsilion replied first, as was his right as an elder. “When Urnesso spotted you on the hill, we thought you would shelter with us for the night. Yet you turned in this direction at the cairn. Surely you cannot intend to—” He indicated the three towers with a trembling hand. “Moon-bright is a dangerous time at the Spires. Haunts emerge from the moon’s malign shadow.”

“Have you seen a haunt yourself, Elder? Have any of you encountered one?”