It was the wolf again.

She tried to blank her mind.

She was pa.s.sing Ed Proving's wagon when the line of palt feathers fluttering against the footbox caught her attention, and she reined in. Proving glanced at her, belched softly, pressed a hand to his stomach and closed his eyes for a moment, then gave his driver a nod. One For Brandy quietly handed over the reins and disappeared into the wagon.

Nori didn't speak for a few minutes. Without looking at him, she finally said, "You have good eyes, Ed Proving Trail. Did you use them last night when you were up?"

Proving raised a scraggly eyebrow, then sloshed his flask. "My sight's not so good by the end of the day."

She slanted him a look. "You don't sleep so well, either, but your ears are better than ever."

He gave her a sharp glance, then looked away. His voice was flat. "You know."

She shrugged. "My mother . . ." She let the word trail off.

He nodded shortly. Raised with a master healer and as a vet herself, Black Wolf would know enough to recognize the signs. He struggled with his humiliation. Bad enough folks thought him a drunk. Now he'd be pitied for the pain, for the splitting headaches the slightest sound caused, for dying like the withering husk of a weakening man who doesn't know how to let go. A palt flew out of the tree line, and almost viciously he jammed the reins in the wood grip, raised his bow, and shot. The arrow flew true, and the bird tumbled suddenly, then plunged over the barrier bushes.

Nori politely didn't look at him till he set the bow back in its holder and picked up the reins again. He looked at her grimly. His eyes were already slightly bloodshot, the skin around them tight as he tried to hang on to some shard of pride. She said quietly, "A healer's silence is a patient's right."

"You're not a healer."

She gave him a lopsided grin. "Animals, humans, what's the difference?"

He regarded her for a long moment. Then he snorted. "To you, perhaps none," he agreed. He stared down the road. Finally, he said, "Aye, I was up. You'd left already with that brother of yours, probably to see that young wolf who's been hanging around."

Nori winced.

He said dryly, "It's not me to worry about, Black Wolf. But I'd be more careful next time I go out after dark. Someone was watching your wagon."

To get at the scout book? She'd taken it with her, and her hand itched to check its pouch. Her voice was carefully expressionless. "Did you see who it was?"

He smiled without humor. "It was the end of the day, Black Wolf. My eyes . . ." He shrugged, took a small sip, belched, and tried not to reach for more. Take too much in the morning, and he'd not be able to keep the rest down in the evening to make it through the night. He kept his voice steady as he added, "Whoever it was stayed smart. Disappeared before that uncle of yours got up and took his walk-by.

Didn't slip back into place till after."

Nori nodded. Wakje often got up and walked the camp in the middle of the night. She wondered sometimes if his dreams were as bad as hers. "The watcher, he was over by Rezuku's wagon?"

But Proving shook his head. "He was eight wagons down from yours in my direction. And he was relieved by another man at the second watch, and by a woman just before dawn." He caught the determination in her violet eyes. "I wouldn't go looking for them, Black Wolf, not without a pa.s.sel of armed folk at my back. They all moved like your uncles, sure and quiet."

"But you heard them."

He chuckled without humor. "I heard the rasp of their leathers every time they moved."

And every snore, rustle, and murmur around him. No wonder the man couldn't sleep. But she said only "My thanks" as she rode forward again.

Kettre was waiting with the message master. Nori shook her head almost imperceptibly as she greeted the old woman casually.

"Eight messages, prepaid," the message master told her, handing over a bundle of message rings and a thin roll of paper. "Your duty."

Nori glanced at the three carved and painted sticks, then slid them into her pouch. Regardless of shape, the wooden messages were all called message rings. They weren't the most efficient way to communicate, but they were one of the most personal. The emotion and style of the carver went directly into the wood, the messages couldn't be accidentally changed in travel without the damage showing.

They'd been used since the sixth century for almost all formal agreements between merchants, Houses, guilds, and counties. They were like promises, she thought. Or like code. The nuances, implications and even hidden messages in the carvings were often invisible to any but the person who would receive them.

She checked the five paper slips, then rerolled them and slid them into their tube. Then she met the message master's pale eyes and said softly and deliberately, "Nine messages, my duty."

The old woman opened her mouth to correct her, then halted. "Nine messages, aye." She squinted at Nori. "I can't quite remember who brought in that last one, though."

"Ah, it came in with a ring-runner last night. Not the usual rider."

"Of course." The thin woman made a note in her tally book. "I don't know what's getting into my brain these days. Bad tallies, messages astray." She shook her head.

Kettre asked in a low voice, "Did you ever find those missing rings?"

Nori gave her friend a sharp look, and the old cozar gazed at both of them for a moment. "Not a hair of them," she finally answered, equally softly. Twochovas trotted toward the wagon, and the message master said more loudly in a sour voice, "That idiot Mato actually accused me of claiming they were missing just so I could still charge them for the sending. I'd have bitten his head off if I had your teeth, Black Wolf. My birds never come back empty-toed without me seeing it, you can bet the sixth moon on that."

Nori and Kettre hid grins.

The old woman waved for thechovas to wait, and picked up a small stack of books with her thin hands.

"If you've got company on the ride, you can take this up also, if you're willing."

Nori glanced at the three books. "Ah, the monthly trade-off." They were well worn, but they'd be welcome at the isolated tower. "What t.i.tles?"

"Two cla.s.sics and one modern:Landfall, by Lurien,Who Hunts the Wolves, andOn the Edge of Aiueven, by Reveven."

"I've been avoiding that last one," she admitted as the cozar handed them up to Kettre.

The old message master grinned toothily. "As have I."

"I hear he still claims it's based on my mother."

"I'd say he wishes hewere your mother, saving the world and all. But what does an old woman know?"

The message master shrugged her thin, bony shoulders. "It's a fast way to silver to mention Dione. On your way now, Black Wolf." As the waitingchovas took their place, the old woman called after them, "And don't forget to bring back the other books they've finished."

They waved over their shoulders.

They were well ahead of the caravan before Nori told Kettre about the watcher Ed Proving had seen the night before.

Kettre scowled. "Watchers, kidnappings, and attacks on the road? Someone's got to be communicating constantly to put that all together."

Nori nodded. "We'll start watching the ring-runners and message master more closely. If messages are going missing, someone might be intercepting or stealing them so she can't keep a record. Uncle Wakje says they did that sometimes to make it harder to backtrack them later."

Kettre slanted her a look. "I don't see how you're going to be able to tell anything from that old spider.

She just added a nonexistent message to her tally simply because you asked. You might as well call her a tally ho."

"Moons, Kettre." Nori looked around quickly.

"Don't worry, she didn't hear me," the woman returned sourly. "Besides, it's true."

"It's completely different," Nori returned sharply. She scowled at Kettre's knowing look. "I'm different," she said finally. "She'd tell me if anyone other than the Ell or Hafell asked her to do the same thing."

"Of course. MaDione."

"Moonworm c.r.a.p," Nori muttered. Kettre was right. As usual, the message master had a.s.sumed that, if Nori asked for help, it was really for her mother.

It was quiet as they started up the narrow path. Even the jackbraws seemed subdued and lazy in the warming sun. Small goldencups grew out of the bark on the sky side of the trees, and the scent of lemon and cloves was heavy in the air. Nori noted it all, saw and smelled and heard it all, but she'd left the cozar behind in her mind. Her senses stretched now for something else. She didn't have long to wait.

Forty meters up the trail, Rishte slipped out of the brush. Kettre stiffened in her saddle, but Nori grinned.

The yearling bared his teeth. He was poised with eagerness. Nori didn't even look at Kettre. She simply leaned forward, spurred her dnu, and jumped the riding beast forward. Rishte turned and pelted away.

He seemed to laugh in her mind, and she felt her muscles loosen with speed. Up, up- "d.a.m.n you, Nori!" Kettre belatedly spurred her dnu after the wolfwalker.

The trail wasn't yet steep, and the dnu charged up the trail after the wolf. Rishte leapt a half-cut log, and Nori sailed after him. Her dnu landed with bunched legs. It bucked itself up, then bounded over the next log, and Nori threw her head back and laughed out loud. Rishte howled in her head.

She finally pulled up at a switchback where the trail began to steepen. Kettre caught up a moment later.

"By the molded cheese of a forgotten Tumuwen herder, you might give a girl a warning."

Nori laughed. "You never used to have trouble keeping up."

Kettre made a face. "Wait till we're back in the city. Then we'll see who falls behind."

Nori grinned. "Speaking of the city, did you see Surah before you left?"

"No, but I heard she's now down onSilverheart Street ."

"That sounds pretty, at least."

Kettre sighed. "It's a wh.o.r.e street, Nori."

"Oh." Nori felt like an idiot. She glanced at the wolf. He stood on the switchback, panting easily and waiting for them to go again. Up? he seemed to ask.

At least there she knew what to do. She nudged her dnu after him again. The riding beast was used to wolves and didn't blink at the command, but Kettre had to urge her own dnu hard.

It took two hours to reach the ridge. From there, they could see the message tower that squatted one hill over. It was a newer stone structure, fully enclosed, poking out from the trees like a multieyed monster.

A set of ma.s.sive, tubed mirrors were mounted on the top, two facing south, and two facing north. Each was covered with lines of shutters to close it off when not in use.

"Predator flag is up," Kettre murmured.

Nori nodded slightly. "It's a hungry spring."

As they watched, the shutters flickered, and a mirror began to flash. The light flashed on the edge of the cylindrical shield, and Nori's eyes narrowed as she squinted at it.

"Anything interesting?" Kettre asked.

Nori watched for a moment, then shook her head. "Nothing that affects us. The bridge is still out on the lowerRaineRiver , so those elders will be late to council."

"What a tragedy." Kettre laughed at her expression. "You can't claim you're thinking otherwise."

"What I think and what I'll admit are two very different things."

"As always, Black Wolf. As always."

Following the wolf, they clambered down the next stretch of trail. Rishte stayed ahead of them, turning every now and then to wait. Up two more switchbacks, a steep stretch that would have had their calves aching if they had been jogging . . . Rishte was trotting ahead, looking back, trotting ahead again. Nori felt her lips stretch in an answering grin. Not even the threat of predators could make her feel trapped out here.

When Rishte paused and growled softly in her mind, Nori pulled up. Mudslides, rockfalls, and old trees had broken most of the barrier bushes. What was left was a ragged line of pitiful shrubs clinging to the side of the hill in a desperate attempt to stay rooted. She nocked her bow with a borrowed arrow and kept her eyes sharp.

Kettre followed suit. She'd learned long ago that the wolfwalker had sensitive ears and eyes. When Nori eased forward, Kettre kept her distance so both had room to run.

They had almost reached the tower when Nori pointed. Kettre saw nothing, but ahead, Rishte's bristle was up. Their riding beasts were uneasy, and starting to chitter with fear. Kettre could feel hers tremble.

Like Nori, she crooned to soothe it.

Someone in the tower noticed them down on the trail. A small face appeared, disappeared, then leaned out, pointed to the right, and waved another red-striped flag. "Watch for . . . ba . . . ," he shouted. "Ba . .

. bear . . ."

Nori raised her hand in acknowledgment. She waited a moment listening to the trees. Then she nodded at Kettre, jabbed her heels in the sides of her trembling dnu, and loosed him. Kettre reacted instantly.

Both creatures jumped. Somewhere behind, the women caught a glimpse of reddish brown fur, but Nori yelled wildly and charged the tower. Kettre was on her heels. They didn't even try to dismount and open the gate. They simply hunched down, sailed over, and skidded into the courtyard.

"Moons!" Kettre burst out as they reined in.

Nori was laughing. She pushed her braid back over her shoulder and grinned at the other woman.

Frustrated, the badgerbear flowed near the gate, stretched up and clawed the top of the beams, then padded back along the wall. Nori listened to it retreat. Then she tucked her bow back in its holder and dismounted.

The tower man called down, "Have a nice ride?"

The wolfwalker grinned back up. "Two hours of boredom for two seconds of fun."

"Come on up, then. I've got your packet ready."

Kettre just shook her head.

"Nine messages, none urgent," Nori reported to the lanky man and his partner when they reached the high message room. She had known Jezeren since they were children, but she didn't know the woman with him, and she didn't like the avid look in the tower woman's gaze. "Your duty," she said formally, handing over the packet. She let her fingers tap it meaningfully before letting go.

"My duty, acknowledged." The lanky man looked through the messages. He hesitated almost imperceptibly when the count came up short, but logged them in, and reached over to pick up his own packet. "I've got five going back down. Your duty, Black Wolf." He handed them over and logged them out.

"My duty, acknowledged," she accepted. She counted the four slips of paper, then rolled and tubed them tightly. The fifth message, the wooden message ring, was more formal: a small carved invitation hoop for Ell Tai, with beads, knotted line, feathers, and an ebony centerpiece. "Lovely," she murmured.

She added slyly, "Although I hear the artist is a bit hung up on himself."

He chuckled. She knew he'd made the ring. "I hear the other carvers are jealous."