The Crownhall man was waiting at the lodging gate before the bread. He did not come in.
He stood on the outside of the bar with his hands folded over the head of a black cane. The gate guard stood on the inside, looking at him as if he were a bad smell.
He wore blue-black wool with a gold pen pinned at the collar. His boots were clean. The mud of the Arena road had not reached them, and Calen could not tell whether that was because he had come by carriage or because he had never walked a road in his life.
“Instructor Orrin,” said the man, when Calen came down the steps. He did not bow. “I am sent by Director Hesta Morrow, of the Crownhall Office of Teaching Records. I have a letter for one of your students.”
“Which one?”
“Miss Dray.”
Calen looked past him to the stair. Hesper had come down it behind him, with her book under her arm and her face already shut.
Ysra and Liss stood on the stair above her, and Kade had stopped in the doorway to listen. She did not come closer to the gate. She stopped on the bottom step and waited to be called.
