"Wil! how is Cyrward?" Wil freezes at the call, then looks up to see his sister Aeshe, leaning over the edge of her sleeping platform. "What?" "Is he badly hurt?" Wil scowls, and climbs the ladder. "No, just a broken arm. How did you guess?" "Your reaction just now." Aeshe smirks. "And you've been at the Orderhouse every day. You might be interested in joining them, but that's overdoing it. And they say the rebels were led by someone who knows the area." She shrugs. "I made the connection." "I hope Da doesn't," Wil says. "If you ever need me to go there for you, I will." "Thanks."