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“We discovered something as well.” Henrik nods for the two guards carrying the wrapped body to follow him.

Pranmore steps into the torchlight, his eyes on the wrapped body, wrinkling his nose as if smelling something sour. With a suppressed gag, he says, “You found Camellia.”

“You’re awake.” I grimace. “And not exactly.”

“I can smell the taint of her magic,” he argues. “It’s overwhelming.”

Sometimes I’m truly thankful I’m not a Woodmore. Well, not a full one at least. Audra says I must have some in my lineage.

“Take the body to the morgue,” Henrik says to Simon, who’s appeared as well. “Guard it personally. I don’t want this one disappearing. We’ll leave for Cabaranth at sunup.”

“Yes, commander,” Simon says solemnly, following the men carrying the body.

Henrik turns back to Lord Yorgin. “What did you find on the golem?”

“When we pried the energy crystal out of its chest, we discovered a note.”

“A note?” I ask, not liking where this is heading.

“What did it say?” Henrik asks coolly.

Lord Yorgin removes a scrap of parchment from a pocket in his jerkin and hands it to the commander. Henrik’s face goes stormy as he reads it.

“What is it?” I ask warily.

“Directions.”

“To where…?”

Henrik looks up, meeting my eyes. “The shack where we found Barret.”

I let the information sink in, and then I tug him aside so Lord Yorgin won’t overhear me. “Camellia was behind the golem attack then.”

Henrik nods, pocketing the parchment. He turns back to the knight. “I must take this to the king.”

Lord Yorgin nods. “We were preparing to send men to the location.”

“There’s no need. We were just there.”

Confusion shadows Lord Yorgin’s face. He glances toward the doors the guards took the body through and then decides to follow them.

Henrik says to Pranmore and me, “We need to talk.” He glances at the guards milling around. “Wake Ayan and Bartholomew—Clover’s brother as well.”

Several minutes later, we gather in Henrik’s temporary quarters.

To no one’s surprise, Maisel shows up at the window a minute later, hanging from a rope fixed to the top of the tower. She raps impatiently on the glass, waiting for someone to let her in.

“Took you long enough, you worthless thrall,” she grouses when Ayan opens the window and helps her inside. “I thought my arms were going to fall off.”

Used to her people’s grumbling, Ayan grins like she offered him a warm, heartfelt greeting. “I missed you too, Maisel.”

My eyes pass over the group, and I realize we represent every civilized race in Caldenbauer except the Boermin, though we feel incomplete without Lawrence, Audra, and Lyredon. I think of Camellia out there, wandering…

Dead.

I hope they’re all right.

Once Ayan closes the door, Henrik explains what we found on our outing to the northern section of the city. My eyes latch onto Pranmore. With every passing minute, his face falls a little further, until he looks despondent.