The bird was dead. He’d seen it fall from the sky. A dozen arrows had followed its flight. One had found its mark in the bird’s breast. He scooped it up with his bony fingers and cradled the bird. Its neck was broken, and its head fell back in an elegant swoon over his arm. He already knew what the note attached to its leg said. He’d stood behind Jalaine as she wrote it.

Jase, Kazi, anyone,

Come! Please! Samuel is dead. They’re banging the door.

I have to—

He’d known she wouldn’t have time to finish the note. She had barely had time to release the bird. He looked down to where the arrow pierced its stained breast. He gripped the shaft and pulled it from the bird. A spray of downy white feathers floated to the ground. He didn’t know if it would help, but he had promised Jalaine, and he always kept his promises. He lifted the bird to his mouth and whispered against the feathers. Not yet. Not today, then threw the bird into the air.

Its wings snapped taut, catching the current, and it flew away from Tor’s Watch.