Come in," Zedd grouched to the persistent throat-clearing outside his tent.

He poured water from the ewer into the dented metal pot that served as his washbasin sitting atop a log round. When he splashed some of the water up onto his face, he gasped aloud. He was astonished that water that cold would still pour.

"Good morning, Zedd."

Still gasping, Zedd swiped the frigid water from his eyes. He squinted at Warren. "Good morning, my boy."

Warren blushed. Zedd reminded himself he probably shouldn't call someone twice his own age "boy." It was Warren's own fault; if the boy would just stop looking so young! Zedd sighed as he bent to forage for a towel among the litter of maps, dirty plates, rusty dividers, empty mugs, blankets, chicken bones, rope, an egg he'd lost in the middle of a lesson weeks back, and other paraphernalia that seemed to collect over time in the corner of his small field tent.

Warren was twisting his purple robes into a small wad at his hip. "I just came from Verna's tent."

Zedd halted his search and looked back over his shoulder.

"Any word?"

Warren shook his head of curly blond hair. "Sorry, Zedd."

"Well," Zedd scoffed, "that doesn't mean anything. That old woman has more lives than a cat I once had that was hit by lightning and fell down a well, both in the same day. Did I ever tell you about that cat, my boy?"

"Well, yes, you did, actually." Warren smiled. "But if you like, I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

Zedd dismissed the story with a feeble wave as he turned more serious.

"I'm sure Ann is fine. Verna knows Ann better than I do, but I do know that that old woman is downright hard to harm."

"Verna said something like that." Warren smiled to himself. "Ann always could scowl a thunderstorm back over the horizon."

Zedd grunted his agreement as he went back to digging through his pile.

"Tougher than bad meat, she is." He tossed two outdated maps over his shoulder.

Warren leaned down a little. "What is it you're looking for, if you don't mind my asking?"

"My towel. I know I had- "Right there," Warren said.

Zedd looked up. "What?"

"Your towel." Warren pointed again. "Right there on the back of the chair."

"Oh." Zedd snatched up the wandering towel and dried his dry face. He scowled at Warren. "You have the eyes of a burglar." He tossed the towel in the pile with everything else, where it belonged.

Warren's grin returned. "I'11 take that as a compliment."

Zedd cocked his head. "Do you hear that?"

Warren's grin melted away as he joined Zedd in listening to the sounds outside. Horses clogged along the hard ground, men talked as they passed the tent, other: called orders, fires crackled, wagons squeaked, and gear clanged and rattled.

"Hear what?"

Zedd's face twisted in vague unease. "I don't know. Like, maybe a whistle."

Warren lifted a thumb over his shoulder. "The men whistle now and again, to get the attention of their horses and such. Sometimes it's necessary."

They all did their best to keep the whistling and other noise down.

Whistles, especially, carried in such open terrain. It was hard to miss something the size of the D'Harans' encampment, of course, so they moved camp from time to time to keep the enemy from getting too confident about their location. Sound could give away more than they would like.

Zedd shook his head. "Must have been that. Someone's long whistle."

"But still, Zedd," Warren went on, "it's long past time when Ann would have sent Verna a message."

"There were times when I was with Ann that she couldn't send messages."

Zedd waved an arm expansively. "Bags, there was a time when I wouldn't let her use that confounded journey book. The thing gave me the shivers. I don't know why she couldn't just send letters, like normal people." His face, he knew, was betraying his concern. "Confounded journey books. Lazy way of doing things. I got to be First Wizard and I never needed a journey book."

"She could have lost it. That's what Verna suggested, anyway."

Zedd held up a finger. "That's right. She very well could have. It's small-it could have fallen from her belt and she didn't nonce until she and Alessandra made camp. She'd never find the book in a circumstance like that." He shook the finger. "Makes my point, too. You shouldn't depend on little trick things of magic, like that. It just makes you lazy."

"That's what Verna thought, too. About it falling from her belt, I mean." Warren chuckled. "Or a cat could even have eaten it."

From beneath a furrowed brow, Zedd peered at Warren. "A cat? What cat?"

"Any cat." Warren cleared his throat. "I just meant. . oh, never mind. I never was any good at jokes."

Zedd's knotted brow lifted. "Oh, I see. A cat could have eaten it. Yes, yes, I see." He didn't, but Zedd forced a chuckle for the boy's sake. "Very good, Warren."

"Anyway, she probably lost it. It's probably something as simple as that."

"If that's the case," Zedd reasoned, "she will likely end up coming here to let us know that she's all right, or at least she will send a letter, or messenger, or something. Ever more likely, though, she probably had nothing to tell us and simply saw no need to bother with sending a message in her journey book."

Warren made a skeptical face. "But we haven't had a message from her for nearly a month."

Zedd waved a hand dismissively. "Well, she was way north, up almost to where Richard and Kahlan are, last we heard. If she did lose the book and started right out to come here from there, she won't show up for yet another week or two. If she went on to see Richard first, then it will be longer, I imagine. Ann doesn't travel all that fast, you know."

"I know," Warren said. "She is getting up there in years. But that's just another reason why I'm so worried."

What really worried Zedd was the way the journey book went silent just as Ann was about to reach Richard and Kahlan. Zedd had been eagerly anticipating hearing that Richard and Kahlan were safe, that Kahlan was all healed. Maybe even that Richard was ready to return. Ann knew how eager they were for word and would certainly have had something to report. Zedd didn't like the coincidence that the journey book went silent right at that time.

He didn't like it one bit.

The whole thing made him want to scratch as if he'd been bitten by a white mosquito.

"Now look here, Warren, a month isn't so long not to hear from her. In the past, it's sometimes been weeks and weeks between her messages. It's too early to start getting ourselves all worked up with worry. Besides, we have our own concerns which require our attention."

Zedd didn't know what they could do even if Ann were in trouble somewhere. They had no idea how to find her.

Warren flashed an apologetic smile. "You're right, Zedd."

Zedd moved a map and found a half loaf of bread left from the night before. He took a big bite, giving himself an excuse to chew instead of talk. When he talked, he feared he only let out the true level of his worry not just about Ann, but also about Richard and Kahlan.

Warren was an able wizard, and smarter than just about anyone Zedd had ever met. Zedd often had trouble finding something to talk about that Warren hadn't already heard of, or was intimately familiar with. There was something refreshing about sharing knowledge with someone who nodded knowingly at esoteric points of magic that no one else would fathom, someone who could fill in little gaps in the odd spell, or delighted at having his own little gaps filled in by what Zedd knew. Warren retained more about prophecy than Zedd thought anyone had a right to know in the first place.

Warren was a fascinating mix of obstinate old man and callow youth. He was at once set in his ways, and at the same time openly, infinitely, innocently, curious.