Time to go, (Urolf) told himself. Aelyth-Kintalyn is quite used up. But if he simply left, that would leave the place wide open for the exiles to come sneaking back. . . . He couldn’t have that. No more Aelyth-Kintalyn, he’d told them. And no Án Telfahn either. When he left, he must make sure of it—and he knew how! He strode to his desk, picked up a quill, and began to write.