Sorrel didn't answer right away, only stood leaning against the windowsill, shivering with the chill of the morning and of the breeze. When he did look up, it was first to seek Adasse's eyes, to squeeze his hand in comforting affirmation. He managed a grim ghost of a smile when he recognized the question.

"Someone, or some thing, is thinning the Veil in the tower. You remember, how often I've told you, the Fade all around the Gallows is terrible?" He gestured vaguely, a circular hand that encompassed the whole of the tower and needed no explanation, "It's leaking through, and the spirits are pressing up against the Veil. We need to keep our heads; they're only hungry, and panicking will only draw them in for more. And, until whatever's doing this is found and stopped..."