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had come to Wolter in the kitchens.
    "I will carry this with me and find someone to take it past our northern shore," Rath said. "Beginning tomorrow. Son, shall you and the Prince stay as my guests this evening? The inn has comfortable rooms."
    "We must return to the palace, Uncle," Amlis answered in Rodrik's stead. "My brother thinks we're at the brothel."
    "Celebrating your majority a few moon-turns early?" Rath grinned mischievously.
    "Of course, Uncle. How else would it be?" Amlis grinned back. The discarded drafts of the letter were taken up by Rodrik, who tossed them into the fire. I watched the edges curl and then burn. Rodrik watched, too, until all were consumed.
    I helped the innkeeper clear away plates and cups while Amlis and Rodrik made small conversation with Rath and Hirill. Afterward, I pulled cloaks from pegs and assisted Amlis and Rodrik as they dressed for the cold.
    Wrapping myself in Amlis' castoff, I followed my two into the bitter cold, with Hirill not far behind. The Prince's party was served first, our horses saddled and brought out as was proper, and we were away while Hirill searched for hat and gloves in his saddlebag.
    The night had not improved the weather's disposition, the bitter winds howling around shuttered homes and businesses as we made our way toward the castle. There was little light, but the road was easy enough to see in the snow. Our horses had their heads down; the return trip was forcing us into the wind instead of away from it, as it had on our journey to the inn.
    When the vision hit, I knew Amlis and Rodrik would be cut to pieces if we kept our current pace. I shouted into Runner and Midnight's minds to run as fast as they could to save their lives and the lives of the men they carried.
    * * *
    "Something spooked their horses, my Lord." Yevil stood before the King's massive desk. Carved of walnut, it was stained as black as Yevil's soul.
    No books graced the shelves in King Tamblin's library—they'd been emptied when he took it for his own. Most of the tomes had been burned in the fireplace opposite his desk, as he'd had no use for them.
    "My men did not pursue; that many horses racing through the streets on such a wintry night would arouse suspicion."
    "You did right, of course," the King toyed with the ring he wore on his smallest finger. Tandelis had worn it on the proper finger, but then his hands had been smaller than Tamblin's. Weak , Tamblin thought as he twisted the ring. Tamblin snorted—Yevil had failed to kill Rodrik and the boy.
    How many times had he suspected that Amlis was not his son, though he'd tortured Omina's maid, attempting to force a confession from her of his wife's dalliance. The woman had breathed her last, professing Omina's continued fidelity. Either way, the boy had too much of his uncle in him for his own good and his death would ensure a smooth transition when Timblor took the throne.
    "What about the girl—the page?"
    "She was left behind on that plodding old pony. We let her pass—after all, what can she tell any of them?" Yevil replied. A slow smile spread across the King's face.
    * * *
    I will never forget the look of relief that crossed Rodrik's face as Old Broom and I clopped into the stable that night. It was three hours before dawn, an hour after I was normally up and cleaning hearths. Exhausted, I nearly stumbled as I slid from Old Broom's back, offering him a grateful pat that shot chill pains through my fingers and palm.
    "I'll make sure he's fed proper. Those other two didn't stop running until they reached the stable," Garth observed. He'd waited with Rodrik, likely hoping that the horse would come back even if I didn't.
    As far as Midnight and Runner racing toward the stables—that's what I'd meant for them to do when I'd instructed them to run. They'd followed my command perfectly. Amlis and Rodrik were both experienced riders, and I'm sure they were shocked that their mounts had run away with them, as much as they'd tried to stop