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Piper turned his head. Something crossed his face when he saw Galen, but it was gone too quickly for the paladin to catch. The cool, passionless mask settled into place.

“Earstripe!” said Galen, with heartiness he didn’t feel. “You’re looking so much better.”

“A gnole hopes so. Bolt in a gnole’s leg does nothing for looks.”

“Skull-of-Ice is a miracle worker,” said Piper, not looking at Galen. “That was a bad break on top of everything else. I wasn’t sure you’d walk again.”

Earstripe slapped his bad leg. “May have a limp, but may not. Ours says a gnole will feel it when it rains, though.”

“Welcome to the club,” said Galen. “If the barometer drops in Morstone, I feel it.”

Piper opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Earstripe looked from Galen to Piper and back again, frowning. “Something wrong between bone-doctor and tomato-man?”

“Nothing of consequence,” said Piper.

That hurt. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Galen felt as if someone had taken a chisel and gouged a line out of his sternum. Nothing of consequence. He’d been lying awake and tormenting himself for days over nothing of consequence.

Earstripe’s ears flattened. He sniffed the air and Galen wondered what the gnole could smell. Probably what he talked about before. One person smelling as if the other’s their mate, and the other not. For me, it’s love. For him, it was nothing of consequence.

It had been more than that. He knew it had. Piper’s face when Galen had broken it off, the way his hands shook on the flint—no, he felt something too, I know he did, that’s the problem. If it didn’t mean anything to him, he wouldn’t have looked like that. He wouldn’t look like he does now.

Galen could see muscles flex as Piper’s jaw clenched. He wanted to set his lips against it. He’s shaved. It will be smoother than it was, not rough like it was in the maze. And the spot just behind his jaw, he shivers when I breathe on it. I remember that.

“Humans can’t smell,” muttered Earstripe.

“No, we can’t,” said Piper, “which is why you have to tell us when you’re getting tired.”

The gnole smiled. “A little, yes, bone-doctor. But tell me, tomato-man, the dead humans in the river, are they known now? Can human families be told?”

“I told the guard everything,” said Galen. “You know how well that works.” The gnole grimaced. “But the records are with the courts, and they’ll do what they can.”

“The important thing is no more bodies,” said Piper firmly. “You did that. You should be proud.”

Earstripe nodded. “A gnole is,” he said simply. “And a gnole is glad that a gnole is the one who was shot.” When both Galen and Piper began to object, he held up a hand. “No. A gnole brought humans along. A gnole was responsible. If a human is badly hurt, a gnole is responsible, is guilty, and a gnole cannot forfeit caste or status, a gnole cannot name a human among kin-obligations—a gnole cannot fix anything. So it is better that a gnole bears the hurt.” He smiled. “Easier, too.”

“I would prefer that no one had been shot,” said Piper testily.

“But if bone-doctor had been shot, a gnole could not heal him. Works out better this way.” He slid down from the barrel and picked up his crutch. “A gnole will heal.”

“You’d better,” said Galen. “Otherwise I’m going to make sure you eat nothing but apples for a month.”

The gnole made a rude gesture and both of them laughed. “A gnole rests now, before ours growls.” He looked from doctor to paladin. “Humans sort human things, yes?”

“Yes, of course,” said Piper.

Earstripe looked unconvinced. “Mmmm.” He waved and hobbled away.

“Well,” said Piper. He spoke aloud, but he wasn’t looking at Galen. He might have been talking to himself. “I’m glad he’s recovering well.” His voice was clipped and professional. He nodded once, sharply, then turned to go.

“Wait!”

Piper paused, though he didn’t look around. “Can I help you?”

No, you can’t help me. That’s the point. Galen didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Very well, he was reaping what he’d sown. Still, he was a paladin. “You came alone?”

“Yes.”

Galen felt a pang of annoyance at the man’s recklessness. This was not a great neighborhood. They’d already been set on once, by people with no apparent fear of multiple armed men. “I’ll escort you to the river, then.”