She opened the door, to find her brother moving quietly out of his room across the hall. "Bernard," she cried, and went to him, gripping him in a sudden, tight embrace. He felt warm and solid and strong in her arms. "Oh, thank all the furies. You're all right." She lifted her eyes to his and asked, anguish making the words tight, "Is Tavi-"

"He's all right," Bernard said. "A little banged up, not terribly happy, but he'll be fine."

Isana felt sudden tears blur her eyes, and she pressed her face against her brother's chest and hugged him again. "Oh. Oh, Bernard. Thank you."

He hugged her back and said, voice gruff, "Nothing I did. He'd already taken care of himself and was on the way home."

"What happened?"

Bernard was silent for a moment, and she could feel the discomfort in him. "I'm not sure," he said finally. "I remember setting out with him yesterday, but beyond that… nothing. I woke up in bed about an hour before sunrise."

Isana forced the tears back and stepped back from him, nodding. "Crafting trauma. Memory loss. Like when Frederic broke his legs."

Bernard made a growling sound. "I don't like it. If what Tavi says is true-"

She tilted her head to one side. "What does Tavi say?"

She listened as Bernard recounted Tavi's story to her, and she could only shake her head. "That boy." She closed her eyes. "I don't know whether to hug him or scream at him."

"But if we were attacked by one of the Marat-sis, this could be very bad. We'd have to take word of it to Gram."

Isana bit her lip. "I think you should. Bernard, I've got a bad feeling. Something's wrong."

He frowned down at her. "What do you mean, wrong?"

She shook her head and knew that the frustration she felt showed in her voice. "Bad. Wrong. I can't explain it." She took a deep breath and told him very quietly, "I've only felt like this once before."

Bernard's face went pale. He was silent for a long minute before he said, "I don't remember any Marat, 'Sana. I can't take word of it to Gram. His truthfinder would know."

"Then Tavi will have to do it," Isana said.

"He's a child. You know how Gram is. He'll never take Tavi seriously."

Isana turned and paced a few steps, back and forth. "He'll have to. We'll make him."

Bernard shook his head. "No one makes Gram do anything." He shifted his weight a bit, so that more of his body fell between Isana and the door to his room.

"This isn't anything to trifle with, or to let Gram's stiff neck-" Isana frowned and leaned to look past her brother. Without changing expression, he moved a bit more to block her view with his body. Isana let out an impatient breath and shouldered her brother a bit to one side, looking past him.

"Bernard," she said. "Why is there a girl in your bed?"

Her brother coughed and flushed. "Isana, when you say it that way-"

She turned to blink up at him. "Bernard. Why is there a girl in your bed"?"

He grimaced. "That's Amara. The slave Tavi helped. I was going to lay her down on a cot by the fire, but she panicked. Begged me not to let her sleep down there. Whispering like she was afraid of something. So I told her I wouldn't, and she just passed out." He glanced back toward his room. "I brought her up here."

"To your bed."

"Isana! Where else was I supposed to take her?"

"Just tell me you don't think she's actually a lost slave who Tavi happened to rescue."

"No," he said. "I don't. Her story didn't add up. It sounded all right at first, but I cleaned out her cuts and didn't give her anything for the pain. She got tired fast. Nearly collapsed."

"She's hurt?"

"Nothing to kill her, so long as she doesn't take fever. But yes. Her feet got cut up on rocks, and she's got what looks like a blade wound on her arm. Says she got them falling down."

"Clumsy girl," Isana said. She shook her head. "Sounds like she's someone. Maybe an agent of one of the Lords?"

"Who knows. She seemed decent enough. I suppose she could be what she says."

A quiet and desperate fear curled through her. Isana felt her hands start to shake, and her knees. "And she just happened to arrive that close to him?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I didn't like that part, either. And there's more. Strangers, downstairs. Three of them. They're asking for shelter until the storm blows over."

"And they just happened to show up today." Isana swallowed. "It's happening, isn't it."

"We knew it might."

She swore softly. "Furies, Bernard. Crows and bloody furies."

His voice sounded pained. "Isana-"

She held up her hand toward him. "No, Bernard. No. There's too much to do. How is Tavi?"

He pressed his lips together for a moment, but said, "Not good. I was hard on him. Guess I was upset at not knowing what was going on. Worried."

"We have to find out what's going on. We must know whether or not he's in any danger."

"All right. What do you want me to do?"

"Get downstairs, to those strangers. Be polite with them. Get them some food. Get their shoes off."

"Their shoes-?"

Isana snapped, "Have someone wash their feet, city-style. Just do it." She closed her eyes, thinking. "I'll talk to Tavi. And this Amara. Make sure they aren't hurt worse than you thought."

"She's exhausted," he pointed out. "Looks like she's been run into the ground."

"She shouldn't be up to telling much of a lie, then," Isana said. "I'll be downstairs to talk to the strangers in a bit. Do you know how the storm is shaping up?"

He nodded. "Not as bad as last night, but not pretty. Everyone should be all right if they're indoors, but I've called everyone into the Hall, just to be safe."

"Good," Isana said. "The more people there, the better. Don't leave them alone, Bernard. Don't let them out of your sight. All right?"

"I won't," he promised. "What about Tavi? He should know."

She shook her head. "No. Now more than ever, no. He doesn't need that on his head."

Bernard looked unhappy with her words, but did not gainsay them. He turned toward the stairs, but hesitated, looking into his bedroom, at the girl who lay on the bed. "Isana… the girl is barely more than a child. She's exhausted. She had a chance to do wrong, and she didn't. Tavi says she saved his life. You should let her rest."

"I don't want anyone to be hurt," Isana said. "Go on."

His expression hardened. "I mean it."

"All right."

He nodded to her and vanished silently down the stairs again.

Isana went back into her bedroom and took up her bone-handled brush. She took it with her, gathering her hair over one shoulder, and knocked at

Tavi's door. There was no response. She knocked again and said, "Tavi, it's me. May I come in?"

Silence. Then the doorknob turned and the door opened a fraction. She opened the door the rest of the way and walked into the room.

Tavi's room was dark, with no lights lit. Of course, he couldn't use the furylamps, she reminded herself, and he'd been inside since Bernard had come home earlier that day. With the windows shuttered and the storm gathering outside, the place held a surprisingly deep collection of shadows. She could just see him settling back down onto his bed, no more than a dim outline across the room.

She began to brush at her hair, giving him a chance to speak. He remained silent, and after several moments she asked, "How are you feeling, Tavi?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he said, his tone sullen. "I don't know any watercrafting, so how am I supposed to know?"

Isana sighed. "Tavi, that's not fair. You know that I don't have a choice about what I sense from others."

"Plenty of things aren't fair," he shot back.

"You're upset about what your uncle told you."

"I worked all year to get those sheep he promised. And this…" He shook his head, his voice tightening with anguish, frustration that pressed against Isana like the heat from an old fire.