Grimm shrugged. "I don't know, Drex. Perhaps Lord Thorn could just tell me a little more about Granfer's manner when he committed the act: a peculiar expression on his face, an abnormality in his aura: something, at any rate. I mean to ask him, as soon as I get back to Arnor."

Drexelica put her hand on Grimm's shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. "If you're serious about doing that, do be careful, Grimm. You don't want to make Lord Thorn angry with you, do you? You said he can make you a poor servant for years if he wants to, and I don't want to lose you."

"I don't know what I want," the young Questor confessed in confusion and discomfort, waving his hands as if seeking divine inspiration. "But I'd never forgive myself if I knew that I'd left some stone unturned. Granfer's a stern man and a hard taskmaster, but he'd do anything for me. He and my grandmother Drima are all the family I've got."

"I know," the girl whispered. "Of course you need to find out what happened, but just be careful. Will you do that? Men can be so clumsy and tactless at times, and I worry for you."

"I'll be careful, Drex, I promise. Lord Thorn is severe, but I think he's fair and reasonable at heart, if he's in a good mood. He'll understand why I have to know, I'm sure. And in any case, I wouldn't worry too much about me being condemned to the scullery. I'm more useful as a Questor, and in any case, I'm sure I'm rich enough to pay off my education now. I've never been told what the tariff is for Questors, but I've got plenty of money now."

Drexelica hugged him. "Just you take care of yourself, Grimm, and come back to me. If you get yourself killed, you'll have me to answer to. You wouldn't like that, I promise you. I have my mother's temper at times, and she was a real witch in every sense."