Ayn stared at the smooth white door, thinking aloud. “This makes three nights in a row that he’s been called away.” She looked at Zoe, who rose from her place at Ayn’s feet to rest her large, fluffy head on the girl’s lap. “And he’s has said anything about what’s going on.” Before he’d begun this assignment in Father Gheraeld’s cabinet, her dad had always told Ayn something about what he was was working on. Both because he couldn’t help it—he loved his work—and because he knew Ayn would pester him until he did.

Now Ayn buried her hands in the beastie’s fur, looking into her friend’s golden, round eyes. Zoe yawned, wagging her tail as Ayn continued. “Do you suppose what he’s doing has anything to do with what Mearzt said today?”