Ossulund Territory lay on the eastern border of Plangraced County, more than a thousand miles from Star-Moon Bay. Without a detailed map, Annan had to lean over a map of the Rikaner King Kingdom, use a ruler to work out the scale between Star-Moon Bay and Breeze City, then measure the distance to Ossulund Territory.
Even the fastest Warhorse would need days and nights to cover it. If Annan brought only Guards and no unnecessary baggage, a month would be just enough.
But how could someone pretending to be the King of the North dare visit the King of the North's family?
Holding the note, Annan planned how to stall for time. He could agree first, then find an excuse to postpone the trip as the date approached: an attack on Star-Moon Bay, a visit from the City Lord, a Ratfolk manhunt. He could even say a child was about to be born. That would let him avoid the Apocalypse Forecast, too—but he couldn't go so far that they came over out of worry...
Then Annan noticed a second note stuffed into the message tube on the Fire Crow's leg:
[Don't think I don't know what you're thinking! No excuses! Come back! Now!]
"Then I'll go back."
On the other side of the Rift, Olmedo sat in the fading winter sunlight. Tiny motes of dust softened the light around her.
Annan said nothing and kept looking at Olmedo.
"Go back to Breeze City before you leave. I'll have a Deceiver make you look like Levis. Didn't you use amnesia as an excuse before? Use it again."
That would solve the immediate crisis...
"But no lie lasts forever."
"It doesn't have to. Sorcerers are half long-lived. You only need to outlive them, and then you'll be the rightful King of