Goblin continued chipping away. I continued watching. The process went faster as each fragment fell.

“That isn’t any hammer,” I said. “That’s a kind of pickax. It’s a Deceiver cult thing. And older than dirt. It has to be something of huge religious significance.” I suggested, “Show it to the girl. See how she responds.”

“You’re as close to a Kina expert as we’ve got, Sleepy. What could it be?”

“There’s actually a name for that kind of tool but I can’t remember what it is. Every Deceiver band had a pickax like this. Not made out of gold, though. They used them in the burial ceremonies after their murders. To break the bones of their victims so they would fold up into a smaller wad. Sometimes they used them to help dig graves. All with the appropriate ceremonies aimed at pleasing Kina, of course. I really do think somebody should show this to the Daughter of Night and see what she says.”

It seemed like a thousand pairs of eyes were staring at me, waiting for me to volunteer. I told them, “I’m not doing it. I’m going to bed.”

All those eyes kept right on staring. I had put myself in charge. This was something nobody but the guy in charge ought to handle.

“All right. Uncle. Tobo. Goblin. You back me up on this. That child has talents we can’t guess at yet.” I had been warned that she still tried to walk away from her flesh at night, despite all the constraints surrounding her. She was both her mothers’ daughter and there was no telling what might happen when she had to suffer too much stress.

Tobo protested. “I don’t like to be around her. She gives me the creeps.”

Goblin beat me to it. “Kid, she gives everybody the creeps. She’s the creepiest thing I’ve run into in a hundred fifty years. Get used to it. Deal with it. It’s part of the job. Which they say you were born to do and which you did ask for.”

Curious. Goblin the mentor and instructor seemed much more articulate than Goblin the want-to-be-layabout and slacker.

The little wizard suggested, “You carry the Key. You’re young and strong.”

The Daughter of Night did not look up when we entered the tent. Perhaps she was not aware of us. She seemed to be meditating. Possibly communing with the Dark Mother. Goblin kicked the bars of her cage, which rattled nicely and shed a shower of rust. “Well, look at her. Cute.”

“What?” I asked.

“She’s been working some kind of spell on the iron. It’s rusting away a thousand times faster than it ought to. Clever girl. Only-”

The clever girl looked up. Our eyes met. Something behind hers chilled me to the bone. “Only what?” I asked.

“Only every spell holding her and controlling her has that cage for an anchor. Anything that happens to it will happen to her. Look at her skin.”

I saw what he meant. The Daughter of Night was not exactly rusty herself but did look spotty and frayed at the surface.

Her gaze shifted to Uncle, Goblin, Tobo... and she gasped, like she was seeing the boy for the first time. She rose slowly, drifted toward the bars, gaze locked with his. Then a little frown danced across her brow. Her gaze darted down to Tobo’s burden.

Her mouth opened and, I swear, a sound like the angry bellow of an elephant rolled out. Her eyes grew huge. She lunged forward. Her shackles gave way. The bars of the cage creaked and let fall another shower of rust. They bent but did not give. She thrust an arm through in a desperate effort to reach the Key. Little bits of skin blackened and fell off her. And still she was beautiful.

I observed, “I guess we can safely say the thing does hold some significance for the Deceivers.”

“You could say so,” Goblin admitted. The girl’s whole arm had begun to look like it had been badly burned.

“So let’s take it away and see what else we can find out. And get the cage reinforced and her shackles replaced. Tobo!” The boy kept staring at the girl like he was seeing her for the first time. “Don’t tell me he just fell in love. I couldn’t handle it if we had to worry about that in addition to everything else.”

“No,” Uncle Doj reassured me. “Not love, I think. But the future, just maybe.”

Although I tried to insist, he would not expand upon that remark. He was still Uncle Doj, the mystery priest of the Nyueng Bao.

Things came together nicely after the defeat of the relief column. Murgen said nobody else was likely to challenge us without help from beyond the mountains. Which help, unfortunately, was on the way already. Soulcatcher was airborne and lurching southward in small, erratic leaps that, nevertheless, were bringing her closer faster than any animal could do-even one of those magical stallions from the Tower at Charm-but still definitely very feebly for a flying carpet. Once upon a time the Howler could conquer the miles between Overlook and Taglios in a single night.

Soulcatcher had to rest several hours for every hour she spent aloft. Even so, she was on her way. And the impact of the news on the troops was electric. With only days left, or possibly only hours, everyone buckled down and put their back into it. I saw very little slacking, little wasted effort, and some very serious concentration when it came to honing military skills.

Suvrin was right in there with the troops, drilling his behind off. Literally. Though he had been with us only a short time, he had begun to lose weight and show signs of shaping up. He approached me soon after Murgen and Goblin began issuing regular reports about Soulcatcher’s progress. “I want to stay with you, ma’am,” he told me.

“You what?” I was surprised.

“I’m not sure I want to be part of the Black Company but I do know for sure that I don’t want to be here when the Protector shows up. She has a reputation for seldom letting herself be swayed by the facts. The futility of me having resisted you won’t impress her.”

“You’re right about that. If you shirked because you would’ve gotten killed doing what she expected, she’ll arrange it so you get dead anyway. In a less pleasant way, if possible. All right, Suvrin. You’ve kept your word and you’ve been a good worker.”

He winced. “You understand what ’Suvrin’ actually means?”

“Junior, essentially. But you’re stuck with it now. Most people in the Company don’t go by their birth names. Even most of the men who go by regular names don’t go by their real ones. They’re all getting away from their past. And you will be, too.”

He grimaced.

“Report to Master Santaraksita. Until I find something else for you, your job will be to assist him. Old Baladitya is no use at all. He’s worse than Santaraksita, who keeps getting farther and farther behind in his packing because he keeps getting distracted by his books.” Santaraksita had managed to acquire several antique volumes locally that had, miraculously, survived the countless disasters that had beset the region these past several decades.

Suvrin bowed. “Thank you.” There was a fresh bounce in his step as he walked away.

I suspected he and Master Santaraksita might have a lot in common. Heck, Suvrin could even read.

Tobo materialized. “My father says to tell you that Soul-catcher has reached Charandaprash. And that she’s decided to rest there before she crosses the Dandha Presh.”

“A few more hours’ grace. Excellent. Means there’s a good chance there won’t be anything left here for her to find but our tracks. How are you getting along with your mother? Did you make any effort at all?”

“Dad also says he wants you to post somebody with a warning horn that can be sounded once the Protector gets dangerously close. And he says you should pull in the pickets watching the pass now, just in case Soulcatcher changes her mind about taking some time off.”

That was a good idea.

Runmust and Riverwalker made the mistake of being close enough to be seen. I sent them to go bring the scouts home. “Tobo, you can’t ignore your mother. You’ll end up getting along with her worse than she gets along with your grandmother.”