It was almost eleven when Katelina and Jorick headed to their appointment. Like much of the stronghold, the waiting room was paneled with wood. Wolfe checked the clock. His expression was smooth, but his eyes twitched impatiently.

"We must wait for the other." He motioned them to chairs, though neither she nor Jorick took a seat.

A moment later Verchiel breezed in. Like Jorick, he wore all black and a silver medallion around his neck, the symbol of his Executioner ...