“THAT WAS VERY FOOLISH OF you,” said Sun. “Walking in there like that.”

“It was,” said Albern sadly. “I was young, then, and youth comes with many poor ideas.”

“You were older than I am now!”

“Well, why do you think I keep such a careful eye on you?” When Sun scowled, he chuckled. “I am only joking. The truth is that it is easy to look back on our past actions—or the actions of others—and see how they were wrong. But we always think we are wise in the moment. No matter how old you get, you will always think you are smarter than you used to be. You will always look back at your younger years and marvel at what an idiot you were—but now, of course, you are wise, having learned so much more.”

Sun shoved his shoulder. “I am not an idiot.”

“And what about when you had seen only fifteen years?”

“Oh, sky above,” said Sun, rolling her eyes. “That was different. You would not believe some of the things I got up to.”

“And did you think you were a fool, then? Or did you think you were much wiser than you had been when you were ten?”

Sun opened her mouth to reply, but she could think of nothing to say. Her jaw snapped shut, and she glowered at him.

Albern shrugged. “I only tell you the truth as I know it. And I do not excuse myself. I can look back on the events I am telling you about and recognize what a hotheaded young fool I was. If I live another ten years, I am certain I will look back on today and feel the same way.”

“Enough idle philosophy,” said Sun grumpily. “Where are we going?”

They had passed back out beyond Lan Shui’s northern gate, but the town was not yet far behind them. The sun was lowering, nearly kissing the top of the western spur, and just starting to shadow the land. She could see the line of its shade advancing towards them as night approached, a great darkness sweeping over the land. It was a chilling sight.

“Well, it seems there are some less-than-gentle folk plaguing Lan Shui again,” said Albern. “This time, though, they seem to be operating somewhere outside the town’s borders. We are not exactly certain where.”

Sun frowned at him. “We?”

“Why, you and I,” said Albern, cocking his head at her. “I apologize—I did not mean to dictate your own uncertainty to you.”

“Oh no, please feel free,” said Sun, arching an eyebrow. “So how do we mean to find them?”

“I do not know if you have heard, but I am something of a good tracker,” said Albern. “A wagon was ambushed not far from here just the other day, and I think we will be able to find our foes’ hideout by following the trail away from it.”

“Why did we not see the location of the attack when we approached Lan Shui?”

“There is more than one road leading into town. I wanted to see Dawan before I went to investigate the caravan.”

“And who are these people, exactly?”

He sighed. “Hopefully they are bandits.”

“You do not sound very hopeful.”

“That is because I do not think they are bandits.”

Sun gave a small but very frustrated growl. “What do you think they are?”

He seemed to be struggling for an answer, pursing his lips and looking around, as though he was searching his own mind for the right words. When he did speak, it almost sounded as if he was ignoring her question. “Do you remember the tree from my youth? The tall kauri?”

“I … do,” said Sun, confused.

“When I was young, I paid little attention to the lands of my home. I only watched the tree. It was always there. It changed slowly. It was a landmark, in more than one sense. Only when it was torn down was I finally able to look around and see how all the dale had changed around it.

“The people of Lan Shui are the same. In fact, most people are. If one thing remains the same—a tree, a nation, a king—and if that thing is important enough to them, they think the world is hardly changing at all. Until one day their landmark changes at last, and they realize that things have been happening all along that they paid little heed to. It can be helpful to focus on one thing, one place, one person more than the rest. It anchors us. It can help us find ourselves when the world seems too chaotic, too frightening. But we must remain at least brave enough to keep looking at the world beyond our landmarks, to ensure that no danger threatens them—and that the landmarks themselves are still as we imagine them to be.”

“And what does this have to do with my question?” said Sun.

Albern pointed. “Look for yourself.”

By the side of the road lay the remnants of a destroyed wagon. Sun had been so absorbed by Albern’s words that she had not noticed it. The planks looked to be scored and gouged by weapons, and Sun saw at least three arrows sticking out of them. Worse, there were several dark streaks in the dirt of the road. Sun was certain they were blood.

Albern knelt to inspect the dark streaks. Then he went to the wagon, pacing all around it. At first he only looked without touching, but then he stepped closer, running his hand along the wood, peering closely at the grain, the gouges, the arrows. Sun did not know what he was looking at, but there was no hint of uncertainty in his movements.

Then he stopped short, eyes narrowing. He knelt and leaned under the wagon. When he emerged and stood, he held a small piece of brown cloth, hardly any bigger than his hand.

“What is that?”

“It was the wrapping of a small packet,” said Albern, his tone grim. “They took what was inside.”

“Or destroyed it.”

“No, they took it.” Albern pointed. “The attackers fled that way. Do you see their tracks there, leading off into the foothills of the Greatrocks?”

Sun stared at the spot. She could see nothing. She came to stand beside Albern, trying to view the spot from the same place.

“I do not see any such tracks,” she said at last.

Albern sighed. “Mag never did, either. Come along.”

He set off in the direction he had indicated. Sun trailed along behind him. It was only then that she realized Albern had not brought his horse from the Sunspear. She guessed that he had left it behind so that the noise of its hooves would not betray their position. She began to walk more slowly, trying to make her footfalls as quiet as she could.

Albern glanced back over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

Sun felt a blush creep into her cheeks. “I am trying to be quiet. I thought that was why you left your horse behind.”

Albern smiled. “It is, but such measures are not yet necessary. Our prey is still a fair distance away. We can talk, if you wish.”

“I do,” said Sun. “You keep hinting at these people and expecting me to assemble the hints into an answer. I would rather just hear it plain. Who are they? What are they after?”

Albern shook his head. “I am not trying to trick you or deceive you, but to teach you. However, if you wish for an answer, here is the best one I have. They do not have a name that I am aware of. But they have some purpose here. I think, but do not know, that it is something evil—more evil than mere banditry. But because they are hiding it, because it is happening in the shadows and the silence, no one in Lan Shui is paying too much attention. They think they face only bandits. Bandits, themselves, are their own sort of landmark in the lives of the people of Lan Shui. That is an evil they can face, and so they would rather believe in bandits than seek the truth. ‘Only in watchfulness lies safety,’ said a Mystic to me once. But people do not remain watchful forever, and when they lapse, darkness gathers.”

“That is not exactly an answer,” said Sun.

“I wish I had a better answer to give you,” said Albern. “But failing that, I will continue the tale.”

Dryleaf did not seem particularly annoyed when they brought him to our cell, which was a courtesy I had no right to expect of him. He settled quite easily down onto the bench against the back wall, resting against the stone with a sigh. I sat opposite him, on the ground, my back against the iron bars. A quick glance around had told me that the rest of the cells were empty. I took that as a good sign. Ditra did not seem overly fond of jailing people for little reason, it seemed. I wondered if my mother had been any different. I had never bothered to spend much time inspecting the dungeons.

“Well, this is all a great deal of foolishness,” said Mag lightly. She stood at the other end of the iron bars from me, leaning against them with her arms crossed, as though she were awaiting a delivery of barley to her inn.

“Yes,” I said.

“Unabashed, reckless foolishness.”

“It is.”

“Now, Mag,” said Dryleaf kindly. “Do not be too unkind. Tomorrow is the first day of Yearsend, after all. A time for forgiveness.”

“I find her words comforting, actually,” I said. “It is when she gets quiet, or tries to treat me too delicately, that I grow worried.”

“Then I suppose I retract my scolding.”

“So your sister and the weremage used to bed each other, did they?” said Mag.

“They did,” I said. “They were young. Kaita started as Ditra’s retainer when she had seen only eighteen years, freshly returned from the Academy, and she is only a year or two older than Ditra. I cannot believe I did not recognize her in Northwood. There was a twinge at the back of my mind, but I never—”

“None of that,” said Mag. “It was long ago. Your sister did not recognize you, her own brother. Why should you recognize someone you barely even knew?”

I shook my head slowly. “Mag, I … this means something.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean … in Northwood. We both thought Kaita was after you. We thought she bore some grudge against you, though we did not know what. But she was never after you. She was trying to get to me. When she attacked, I shoved you out of the way, and she killed Sten instead.” I looked up at her, tears shining in my eyes. “But she was never aiming for you. It was me all along.”

“I know,” said Mag. “I worked that out for myself. I am actually rather clever, as well as being mighty.”

“And humble,” said Dryleaf. 

“Sky above, Mag,” I whispered. “I am so sorry.”

“You should not be,” she said brusquely. “Your actions change nothing. It was not your fault. I would have thrown myself in her path to protect you, and Sten would have done the same. And the only reason he died was that you were trying to protect me. None of us did anything wrong. No one but Kaita.”

Her words were little comfort. I bowed my head into my hands.

“We had a sense that she was stringing us along,” said Dryleaf quietly. “Now we know why. She wanted to draw you here. To your home, and hers. But why? Why not strike at us on the road?”

“Because of Mag,” I said quietly, looking up.

Mag frowned. “Me?”

I nodded. “Do you remember that time we saved Victon from the bear in the jungle?”

Her frown deepened. “I do, but I fail to see what it has to do with anything.”

“That, too, was Kaita.”

Her eyes went wide. “How do you know?”

“You were confused by how it seemed to vanish. I was, too. It stuck in my mind, so that I still remember it all these years later. That was Kaita. I believe she turned into a raven and flew away, which is why the trail ended so. That was the first time she tried to kill me, I think. But you were there to protect me, and we remained by each other’s side for years. She must have given up. And then one day she joined the Shades, and that must have occupied her time too much to think of hunting me down. But then, when she learned that we were together again, and in Northwood … she had the strength of an army behind her. She thought she could try again. But even then, you defeated her. She must have realized that she could not defeat you, that no human could. No human.”

“The trolls,” said Dryleaf suddenly. “She hoped the trolls could do it.”

“Sky above,” breathed Mag. “And it seems she might be right. I was almost as helpless against the troll as you were.”

That drew me just enough out of my dark mood to scowl at her. “If you will remember, it was I who wounded the troll.”

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I kept its attention so that you could.”

“In any case,” I said, soldiering on, “she knew she could lure us here, because I would not let her harm my family. And here, she has a chance of defeating you. Once you are out of the way, she can take her revenge on me at last.”

“And your sister.”

I frowned at her. “My sister?”

“Of course,” said Mag. “If she only wanted to draw us into conflict with the trolls, she could have done that in the mountains farther south. But she and the Shades have driven the trolls into a war with the family Telfer. She cannot think your sister will emerge from such a conflict unscathed. Whatever grudge she bears against you, she includes Lord Telfer in it as well.”

That detail had escaped me. But just as I was beginning to mull it over, there came the high squeak of a lock turning towards the front of the dungeon. I made my way to my feet as we heard boots approaching. Two of my family’s guards appeared outside the cell, their faces grim. Behind them was Ditra.

“You wanted to talk,” she said.

“Did you think you needed these guards?” I said, pointing to them.

“They are not for you,” said Ditra. Her gaze shifted to Mag. “They are for her. We have heard of the Uncut Lady even this far to the north.”

“Then you know your guards are useless,” said Mag with a smile.

An angry flush crept up into Ditra’s face, and I raised a hand to pacify Mag. “It is fine. Please, sit, and wait for my return.” I glanced at Ditra. “Assuming I will return?”

“As long as you do not do anything stupid,” she growled in irritation. “Stupider, I mean.”

Mag shrugged and went to sit beside Dryleaf. The guards unlocked the cell door, and I joined them in the hallway. We waited while they locked it again, and then I followed Ditra and her guards out of the dungeon.