Chapter 171

The first thing I heard was the water.

One drop, and a long wait, and another, ringing. Then Rowan’s breathing, harsh and close. Then a sound I did not know: one of the pale men, sitting on the bottom step where Malachai had sat, with his face in his hands, weeping without any noise but breath. His breath went up white in the lantern light. All three of theirs did now.

The one who had held Rowan stood turning his own palm over, as a bear had once stood by the ford stones turning over his. Nobody would tell them anything again.

***

I tried to go to Caspian and found the floor instead.

My legs declined, politely, as a clerk declines a page with the sum wrong, and I sat down on the wet stone with my back against the gate. Something warm ran over my lip. I could not lift a hand to it. My hands lay in my lap and did not belong to anyone.

I reached in for the light, as you reach for a word on the tip of your tongue.

There was nothing there. Not a