Garth volunteered to go in his stead, and though Alton felt guilty about sending him out in the weather, he could not help himself. He was sure Captain Mapstone would be unhappy. Garth was not his to command beyond business pertaining to the wall and its towers. He’d been assigned to stand watch at Tower of the Trees, not to go chasing after errant journeyman minstrels.

Now that Alton knew Estral was safe, he was angry, and it came out in his voice. “Not to worry? Not to worry she could have gotten herself killed? Lost a foot to frostbite? How am I not supposed to be worried?”

“Do you wish for me to convey your tone?” Trace asked, an eyebrow raised.

He passed his hand through his hair in an abrupt gesture. “Do as you see fit.”

Trace nodded and closed her eyes as she mentally conferred with Connly back in Sacor City. Poor Connly, whom he’d made Trace harass daily for updates on his journey to the city in hopes he would find Estral there at the castle. It was bad luck he’d been caught in snowstorms out west. More than once Alton had wished he had the same rapport with Estral that Connly shared with Trace. He wondered what it would be like to be so intimately in one another’s thoughts.

Trace’s image wavered, and she opened her eyes. “Connly says that Estral asks you to forgive her, but that she was driven by fear for her father’s well-being.”

Alton knew that. She’d been worrying since the fall about Lord Fiori having gone missing, on top of what had happened to her voice. He could not blame her for deciding to take action, and in a way, it was a good sign because previously she’d been so despondent over the loss of her voice. He just wished she’d told him in person instead of leaving a note, and had waited for the weather to improve.

Of course, if she had told him, he would’ve done his damnedest to talk her out of it. Gods, he missed her.

“I will consider forgiving her, especially if she comes back.”

Trace gave him a look.

“What? I miss her.”

She shook her head and went into her rapport with Connly again. Eventually she told him, “Estral says that she intends to continue her search. She loves you and is sorry, but it is something she has to do.”

Alton took a deep breath and expelled it. “Could Connly, or better yet, Karigan, talk some sense into her?” He remembered belatedly that Karigan and Estral might not even be on speaking terms. When last he’d seen her, Karigan had been so angry with them both.

Trace relayed his message, then said, “Connly says he’ll speak to her about it, and that Karigan is currently indisposed.”

“Indisposed? What does he mean by that?”

“Not sure,” Trace replied. “Connly says he’ll tell me later when he knows more.”

Whatever it was, Alton was sure she was fine. She was resilient, Karigan was, and had a way of bouncing back from whatever challenges she faced. Knowing her, she was probably barely ruffled by her journey into Blackveil and the future. He dismissed her from his mind, rather more concerned about Estral.

“Connly also says . . .” Trace’s expression showed surprise. “He says that Estral has a voice again.”

“What? How? She has to come back now!” Estral’s singing had been helping to mend the cracks in the D’Yer Wall. The incorporeal spirits that were the guardians within the wall had responded to her in a way they never had to Alton. She had also been working out a riddle of music crafted by an ancestor of hers that might be the key to fixing the wall in its entirety.

“Estral says that the voice is not really hers.” Trace scrunched her brow as if trying to understand. “Somehow an Eletian has temporarily transferred the use of her voice to Estral. In order for Estral to regain her own voice, she must seek out the thief who stole it. She plans to do this while looking for her father.”

It was a mix of emotions that assailed Alton, joy that Estral had a voice, however it came about, and frustration all over again. His frustration at being helpless to aid her made him want to break something. When he was done here, he would go chop more wood. He used to pound his fist against the wall when he felt angry and helpless, but had mostly learned to channel his anger into less self-destructive activities. The cooks loved it when he needed to split wood.

“I have to go up there,” Alton said. “Talk sense into her.”

Trace looked like she was growing weary of being in the middle of this long distance discussion, but she did not express her annoyance. Instead, she closed her eyes to confer with Connly again.

At last she said, “Captain Mapstone says that you are not to leave the wall.”

“The captain is there?” Alton asked sheepishly.

“Indeed. The captain also says that Lady Estral has free will to do as she chooses, but the captain also wants you to know she will do her best to make Lady Estral aware of the dangers.”

Well, that was something, he supposed. “I guess I should tell her about Garth.”

“I already have,” Trace replied. “The captain says that when you are next on castle grounds that you will receive a full and proper reprimand, and probably a week of laundry duty.”

“Hells,” Alton muttered. He’d always managed to keep out of trouble and never got assigned laundry duty before. Not that he foresaw himself returning to Sacor City anytime soon, so the point was moot.

Trace laughed. “The captain says she knows it may be a while before you return to Sacor City, but besides Connly being a witness, Mara is there, as well. The captain says that between the three of them, they won’t forget your punishment.”