"This is not one of the bandits," she said. Gavril looked closer at the shadow-stalker-abandoned corpse. "You are correct," he said, as if with some surprise. She gave him a look. "Thank you. So it seems we are stuck in the middle--sorry, the edge of the steppes--with no horses and a useless wagon and a landscape populated by shadow stalkers. If they are indeed raised by some confederate of your father's, then we should be safe enough. We simply need to find this sorcerer and turn ourselves in to him to be returned to your father and resume our original mission. However, the fact that it"--Moria waved at the shadow stalker--"attempted to attack you suggests we are not safe at all. What is going on here, Kitsune?" "I . . . I'm thinking." "If you do it aloud, perhaps I can help. Unless you still think me a dull-witted Northerner." "I only said that to needle you." "You also did it in front of your father." "As I said, it was to convince him you were not intellectually capable . . ." He stopped and scowled at her. "You're needling me now, Keeper. Playing on my guilt to make me share my thoughts." "I do not believe I am intellectually capable of such cunning--" "Enough. "