The riders found them an hour north of the closed house.
Calen saw the first one on a ridge above the road. He was a grey shape against the sky, sitting his horse without moving. When the wagons came round the bend, the grey shape moved, and two more came out from behind the rocks beside him.
“Three,” said Liss, from the second wagon. She did not turn her head. “Grey cloaks. The left one has a silver cuff.”
“I can see them,” said Calen.
“You are counting them,” said Liss, flatly.
“Yes,” said Calen. He did not stop.
Hoff rode back along the line and came up on his right. His face had gone very still. “Silverspire,” he said. “They will walk beside us all the way home.”
“Let them walk,” said Calen. “Keep the wagons on the road.”
