“Here,” she said, reaching to give him a hand up.

Alton settled himself back onto his stool, and before he knew it, he was unwinding the bandages from his hands and pulling off his boots. He scrubbed at the grit accumulated in the creases of the leather, foamy lather dripping to the tent floor as he worked. The soap and water stung his abrasions, but the effort of cleaning worked the stiffness out of his hands and fingers. It was somehow peaceful, this task, a diversion from the worries that so often plagued his every waking thought. This was something he could accomplish, something in which he could achieve results. It was a simple act, this cleaning of boots, but satisfying to see them transformed.

Really, he thought, he should take better care of his gear, but life seemed too complicated to worry about its condition. When it came time to oil the boots, the leather drank it up as if parched. He frowned. If he had let it go any longer, he’d have cracks, and that was no good with winter coming on.

While he oiled and shined the leather, Dale recounted her conversation with Merdigen. It was disappointing. Merdigen had provided no new insights on how to fix the wall, and Dale had risked her life for nothing. And now he wanted her to do it again.

When he finished with his boots, he looked them over, well pleased with his efforts. They were black again, their shine restored. Even Captain Mapstone would have nothing to complain about. Except the boots now made the rest of him look a mess. Then he noticed Dale watching him.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes? Yes what?” Dale was, he decided, in a very perplexing mood.

“I’ll go back into the tower to ask Merdigen what happened.”

“I don’t know. It’s not safe.” The guilt returned full measure. As desperate as he was to acquire information from Merdigen about the status of the wall, he would not forgive himself if something happened to his friend again.

“Since when,” Dale asked, “has our job been safe?”

It was true Green Riders did not have long life expectancies. Even Alton had come close to death. All Riders were aware of the dangers and accepted them. Yet what right had he to ask her to risk herself again?

Dale hopped to her feet. “All right. I’m ready.”

“Right now?”

She nodded, her expression set.

Alton followed her out of the tent. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, as I’ve told you already.” She gave him a sidelong gaze as they walked between tents and toward the tower. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything. You know that.” Alton couldn’t read the look that appeared in her eyes, and suddenly he was suspicious. What had he just agreed to?

“Plover needs exercise,” she said. “I’ve not been able to ride her since—since—” She indicated her bound arm. “While I’m with Merdigen, could you exercise her? You could ride Hawk and lead her.”

“I—” He came to an ungainly halt before the tower, surprised by the simple request. He had been expecting something more devious. She and Tegan were the terrors of Rider barracks, playing practical jokes at every chance. This was different, and he could only imagine how frustrated she was at being unable to care for her own horse. Keeping a messenger horse in top condition was of utmost importance. “Of course I will, but—”

Before he could finish the sentence, she stepped up to the tower wall and passed into it. He clenched and unclenched his hands, staring at the blank wall, reluctant to leave his post. What if something went wrong again? Couldn’t the exercise wait? But he’d promised. Then with a shake of his head he realized that Dale did not want to worry about him worrying about her. She was keeping him busy.

He resigned himself to honoring her request. It was the least he could do. He assigned a pair of guards to keep watch on the spot and to find him immediately at the first sign of trouble. With that, he turned his back on the tower and headed toward the pickets, realizing how long it had been since he last exercised Night Hawk. Captain Mapstone would not be happy with him. Not at all.

When Dale passed into the tower without incident, she sank to the floor in relief so profound she nearly cried. She was not as brave as she had sounded when she told Alton she’d return. Her nightmares of black wings had been replaced by the sensation of her bones being crushed and pulverized and her soul forever imprisoned in stone. The only way for her to restore her courage was to face what she most feared, like climbing back into the saddle after a fall from her horse. It was the only way.

Fortunately this passage had been as easy as her very first—no resistance, no solidifying of the wall around her. No crackling in her ears, not even any voices at all. Perfectly normal, as though nothing had ever gone wrong.

Inside the tower chamber, she fought to control her breathing and she trembled from all the fear that had been bound up in her. When finally she opened her eyes, she found Merdigen looking down at her.

“You came back,” he said in a soft voice. “I did not think you would after—”

“I didn’t think I would either. Do you know what happened? Why the wall trapped me?”

Merdigen fingered his beard. “The guardians have grown more unstable. I argued on your behalf to make them release you. Fortunately they weren’t entirely unreasonable when I convinced them you represented no harm. I should think they’ll give you safe passage…for the time being. I wouldn’t trust them entirely.”

Well, that’s reassuring, Dale thought.