The rain returned before their watch ended and stayed with them through the rest of the night. It came down steady and cold, soaking the cloaks and turning the ground soft under the horses' hooves.
By morning the trail was slick. The animals moved with greater care, heads low, picking their way over wet stone and mud. Kaelara kept the column tight and the pace measured.
No one needed orders for that. Every rider understood what the silence of the intermediate stones and the empty second waystation meant. The risk had changed shape. Confirmation would only come at the third waystation, and only if the contacts were still there and still reliable.
Aiden rode near Elizabeth for most of the morning. The rain made speech difficult without raising one's voice, so they used the small language of shared work. A glance when the trail narrowed.
