—from “A Child’s Book of the Orphan, and His Life and Death and Reward in Heaven” “I’M SORRY,” Brionytoldhim. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, we were wrong?” “It is . . . it is just ...” Prince Eneas’ face bore a strange expression, one she had never seen before. He had been so busy after the battle she had not seen him for half the day—he was still wearing all his armor except for his helm. “It would be easier for you simply to come with me,” he said at last. He led her to a stockade built in the middle of the Temple Dogs’ camp, with a roof of stitched skins stretched across one end for shade and to keep out the occasional rains that swept down out of the surrounding hills. To her surprise, all the prisoners in the enclosure were ordinary humans, some of them the very mercenary soldiers that the Temple Dogs had rescued only that morning. “Where are the fairies?” she asked Eneas. “Did none of them live?” “Wait.” His face was still unusually grim.
