Due sent the runner before the lamp was out.
He wrote the note himself, refusing to let anyone else look over his shoulder while he sealed it. Elara would have read it anyway if it had been left out, and Due knew that, so he folded the parchment in three, pressed the wax himself, and handed it to the runner with both hands.
The runner was a boy from the Oasis of Grain, thirteen or maybe fourteen, and he did not ask what was inside. He simply nodded once and slipped out into the full dark.
"Two days," said Due, watching the door close behind him.
Alistair clicked his tongue. "It will be three. Sable doesn't make a habit of being on time, no matter what reputation she keeps."
"It will be two. She has been waiting for us to ask, and you know how she is when she's been waiting."
Alistair did not argue with him about that. Due was usually right about Sable, and arguing with him about her was a losing battle Alistair had stopped picking.
