Tempus could not be found, so Crit would have to come, it was too late.
What they could do about waterspouts and whirlpools in the harbour was unclear.
When Straton and Crit had ridden away, Niko eased his black out from hiding. The
spirit-track he’d followed had led them here; Tamzen and the others were inside.
The spoor met up with the pale blue traces of the house’s owner near the Sow’s
Ear and did not separate thereafter. Blue was no human’s colour, unless that
human was an enchanter, a witch, accursed or charmed. Both Niko and Janni
knew whose house this was, but what Crit and Straton were doing here,
neither wanted to guess or say.
‘We can’t rush the place. Stealth. You know what she is.’
‘I know.’
‘Why didn’t you let me hail them? Four would be better than two, for this
problem’s solving.’
‘Whatever they’re doing here, I don’t want to know about. And we’ve broken cover
as it is tonight.’ Niko crooked a leg over his horse’s neck, cavalry style.
Janni rolled a smoke and offered him one; he took it and lit it with a flint
from his belt pouch just as two men with a wagon came driving up from Downwind,
wheels and hooves thundering across the White Foal’s bridge.
‘Too much traffic,’ Janni muttered, as they pulled their horses back into
shadows and watched the men stop their team before the odd home’s door; the
wagon was screened and curtained; if someone was within, it was impossible to
tell.
The men went in and when they came out they had three smallish people with them
swathed in robes and hooded. These were put into the carriage and it then drove