“Tier, Seraph, and Jes all need more sleep,” she’d told him. “They won’t get it with everyone up and about.”

So he’d gathered everyone else, including Rinnie and Gura, and set off for the Owl goddess’s temple. Ielian, who’d been in camp when they arrived from the library, had managed to work out whatever embarrassment or anger he felt over his behavior the night before. He suggested they pack a lunch and do a little exploring since they had some time to do it.

Lehr had the city map memorized already, and Phoran decided that if they all survived—and, at the moment, it looked as though they might—he wanted to get Lehr to map out the palace in Taela. Maybe Lehr could find his way to the southwest tower that no one had been in for at least thirty years because no one knew how to get to it.

Since they had all spent yesterday exploring in the University District, they just walked straight through and found their way down the ramp into the lower city.

“This is interesting,” said Rinnie.

Phoran had to agree. They’d wandered through the Merchant’s District for an hour or so and encountered mostly houses, closed up and impossible to enter. But the street they’d been following as it wandered along the bottom of the cliffs that divided the city had taken a sudden turn and dumped them into the middle of a market square, just as Lehr had promised.

“I’d sure like to get Lehr to Taela and watch him run a maze,” said Ielian slapping Lehr on the back. “I’d make a few golds on you, I’ll bet.”

The market was paved with tiles rather than cobbles. Bright colors designed to raise a person’s spirits, Phoran thought, judging from his own reaction. Once, he supposed, the whole empty expanse had been covered in stalls and tents where food and goods were sold. They would have been put away for the night, he thought, or perhaps the day Colossae had died had not been a marketing day.

“I’ve won a few bets in mazes,” Toarsen was saying. “Though this isn’t quite as interesting as the last thing I found in the middle of a maze.”

“What was that?” asked Rinnie innocently.

Toarsen’s smile dropped from his face. He cleared his throat. “A fountain. Uhm. With birds.”

The most famous maze in Taela—at least among the young noblemen—was the one at the White Bird, a whorehouse that catered to the rich and bored. They held orgies in the largest of the parks inside the maze, but you could make assignations in the more secluded places, too. Phoran had done both a time or two.

“I’ve never seen a maze,” said Rinnie, wistfully.

“Come to Taela, Rinnie, and I’ll take you to some mazes.” Not the White Bird. “If Lehr wants to come to Taela, I’ll hire him to explore the palace for me—now that is a maze.”

“I’ve been through enough mazes,” said Kissel. “Last one I had to cut through trees to get out.”

“That was you?” asked Phoran, impressed. “I’d heard that the White Bird had to hire a wizard to undo the damage.”

Kissel smiled, not a nice smile. “I don’t like being confined. They thought it was funny I couldn’t find my way out. So I did.”

Phoran saw Rinnie examining Kissel as if he were more interesting than he’d been a few moments ago. “That sounds like something my brothers would do.”

Kissel grinned, a startling sudden grin. “I thank you for the compliment, Rinnie Tieragansdaughter.”

Rinnie shook her head. “No, the boys are called after their fathers and the girls after their mothers.”

“Ah,” said Kissel. “I didn’t know that.”

“Mother says it’s silly because that is not how the Travelers do it,” Rinnie said. “I think it is fun to be named after my mother. People are afraid of my mother. They don’t know that it’s Papa they ought to be most careful of.”

“Look,” said Ielian, peering under the curtain blocked the nearest doorway. “Toys.”

After the boys and Rinnie left, the camp was quiet. Tier was asleep, or dozing, at least, with his head in Seraph’s lap. Jes had disappeared; he was probably sleeping somewhere just outside of camp. Hennea was sitting cross-legged by the coals of their campfire meditating.

Seraph hadn’t meditated in a long time, and it had never been easy for her—mindless peace was not her natural state. Nevertheless, she thought it might be a good idea since she was too wound up to sleep. So she straightened her spine and relaxed her shoulders.

She didn’t really meditate, but she closed her eyes and blocked the rest of her senses so she could organize her thoughts. They had learned so much in such a short time, and she needed to let it all settle into place. Tier was safe. Hennea was the goddess of magic. Hinnum was alive and well. Tier was safe. Hinnum would come to help release the Orders from the rings. Hennea was the goddess of magic. Tier was safe.

“You’re thinking awfully hard,” murmured Tier, from the vicinity of her lap.

“Tier,” she said, without opening her eyes. “What do you think the Stalker wants?”

“Why ask me?” he asked, his tone lazy and warm, like a cat in the sun. “Until yesterday afternoon, I didn’t even know what the Stalker really was.”

“Yesterday when you were talking to Hinnum and you said there were three players in the story. Hinnum, Willon, and the Stalker. You had that last fit before you could tell us what you thought the Stalker’s motivations were.”

She heard him take a deep breath and let it out in a tired sigh. “Hinnum taught Willon about the Orders, Seraph. But Hinnum didn’t think he taught Willon enough to allow him to steal them.”

“I didn’t teach him how to see spirit,” said Hinnum. “I would have thought that was necessary to steal an Order.”

Seraph opened her eyes and saw the old wizard standing in front of them. He’d had come upon them without her hearing. Or Jes hearing—which meant he’d used magic of some sort. Tier didn’t bother opening his eyes.

Hinnum continued. “I spent all this morning and half the night—once I knew Tier’s music would appease the dead—trying to see how he could put what I taught him together and steal Orders from Travelers.”

Seraph noticed Hennea had opened her eyes, but she stayed where she was.

“I don’t see how he managed it,” Hinnum said. “I only knew because of what those fools had done to the Eagle. And because I helped the Raven to create the Orders in the first place. Willon is not a Raven, who can take the story of the Orders and know how it was done. At least he didn’t have access to a Raven’s power until after he’d already discovered how to steal the Orders. He’d have needed specifics. Rituals, words, and runes—something. I did not give them to him.”

“Hinnum,” said Hennea.

He turned to her and, to Seraph’s eyes, seemed to shrink a little. Then he caught himself, stood up straight, and looked her in the eyes. “I could not kill you, Raven. In all the centuries I paid my allegiance to you, there was only one thing you asked that I did not do. I could not do.”

Tier opened his eyes during Hinnum’s speech, looked up at Seraph, and raised an eyebrow. Centuries? He asked without words. Raven? Is Hennea the Raven? Is that what Hinnum is saying? Twenty years of marriage allowed her to read all of that in his face.

She nodded.

“What a story,” he mouthed. “I knew she was old.”

She smiled and touched her finger to her lips. “I’ll tell it to you later,” she mouthed back.

He smiled and closed his eyes again. She couldn’t tell if he was going to sleep.

“I don’t remember most of it very well even now,” Hennea told Hinnum, her face wearing its Raven mask. “Some things,” she said slowly, “are as clear as yesterday. I can see the Eagle’s face and hear his voice, but I don’t remember the Falcon or the Cormorant. When Seraph looked at Tier’s spirit, when she brought back the gem, I thought, ‘I remember how to do that.’ But there is much I ought to know that is simply a blank, fogged by time’s passage. I doubt I shall ever remember some of it.”