Blackfeather Woods and he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower

He had spoken to the Redhawk girl himself, and what he had learned from her was jarring. That they were friends, maybe, and that his home might have been among them, both seemed like such detachments from reality and he was loath to admit their potential as truth; but Mou couldn't deny anything either. He stood there in the cave, dark and cold and familiar, feeling like he was about to earn himself a greater punishment from Relmyna than even the sea had bestowed upon him. He could not watch as Maegi stepped in to the cave behind him, could not look at her at all, and remained silent while the Listener addressed the girl. The tone of her voice made him tense—he did not like the way that Relmyna focused upon Maegi like that. It wasn't her fault the Redhawk was here. It was his. The boy's jaw clenched and he finally drew his gaze up from the soil and focused upon the conversation fully, unable to stop the defensive edge that entered his expression.

She spoke of war. Of death, of loss. Mou had not heard of such things from the captive and wondered if he had been lied to. Maybe it had been one long manipulation—maybe she wanted to be here, investigating the woods and learning its secrets. No, he thought sharply, I did this, I wanted to help her. Sithis told me how. We are safe. But he didn't believe everything that ran through his mind. He was distracting himself because if he didn't, Mou was afraid he might lash out on behalf of Maegi—and that would've been the greatest mistake. There was no telling what sort of outcome this conversation would have. If it meant they were in trouble then they would fix it. But the boy did not know how long he could contain himself on Maegi's behalf.