Yes, the pack was talking on the telephone. That was probably a good thing, since Harmony’s judgment could only benefit from outside advice. She lifted the high bar on an inner gate and let herself and Pilgrim through. The admin building was actually a dorm for the overnight broodkenners, most often Carenfret. It was big enough for two or three packs, but right now there seemed to be just the one voice within. The front door was open. She bent low and awkwardly waddled indoors, preceded and followed by Pilgrim.

Harmony was way in the back, in his official office. That wasn’t as large as Harmony would probably like, but it was the room with the telephone, and the Chief Broodkenner had claimed it his first day on the job. Johanna was pleased that no one had ever told him how easy it would be to wire the phone into a different room. She wasn’t the only one who thought ill of this pack.

Harmony was just racking the phone when Pilgrim and Johanna stuck heads into his room. “Well, well,” he said, sounding cordial. “Here is the source of so many of my problems.” He gestured at the floor in front of his desk. “Do please have a seat, Johanna.”

Jo settled herself on the floor. Now she had to look up to see Harmony’s heads. Well, it beat standing stooped over to avoid the ceiling beams. Pilgrim settled himself in the hall, with just one head poked around the door. He could participate in the discussion without his mindsound interfering too much.

Johanna had put together a little speech, but this phone call might change things. “So,” she said, winging it, “you’ve heard about the shipwreck.”

“Of course. I just finished discussing the matter with the Tinish Queen Herself.”

“Oh.” So what did Woodcarver say? Harmony looked too self-satisfied for it to be anything good. “There are almost two hundred surviving Tropicals, sir. Pilgrim tells me that’s substantially more than in the average South Sea wreck.”