Ambrose landed on his rear end on the floor of the Sundial, its arms spinning to a stop overhead. Outside was present-day Mercury, all desert with the stumps of trees showing the old terraforming. Osiris stood where Ambrose had left him, arms folded. "Well?"

"I found him," Ambrose said, scrambling to his feet and rubbing his backside. "Pardon the ungainly entrance, but I was not expecting to be retrieved in such a fashion."

Osiris dismissed this with an impatient gesture. "Zephyr Station. You found Saint-14 there?"

"Yes," Ambrose replied. "I assisted him in staving off the Fallen and burying the deceased colonists."

Osiris sighed and turned away. "My reflections have often seen that moment," he said, more to himself than to the Guardian. "I have seen the timelines when you were there. You fought well. But your actions changed nothing. Saint-14 is still dead."

Ambrose stood still, feeling as if Osiris had slapped him. "What was the point of sending me, then?"

"To find the point of his death," Osiris said over his shoulder. "That is the point I cannot find, no matter how many reflections I send. You could not reach it, either."

Ambrose felt very, very tired all of a sudden. "I returned his shotgun. He seemed to need a weapon."

"You returned it?" Osiris said, turning. "But that means …" He held up a hand and produced a floating white matrix of Vex symbols. A set of tiny blocks appeared within. Osiris spun the blocks, rearranging their symbols and connections, as if working a small computer. His Ghost appeared and watched.

"Aha," said Osiris. "By giving Saint-14 Perfect Paradox, you have created a time beacon. I may be able to track it to the point of his death. But I need to triangulate." He spun the cubes. "Ah. Yes. Guardian, we need to find Saint-14's Ghost."

"His Ghost?" Ambrose said blankly. "Didn't it die with him in the Infinite Forest?"

Osiris's Ghost, Sagira, flew forward. "We believe Saint sent his Ghost away, through a Vex gate. But we're unsure where it may have come out."

"I'll do more research and contact you," Osiris said. He glanced at Ambrose. "Go home and get some rest, man. You look dead on your feet. The Corridors of Time exert untold pressure on mortals, even Guardians."

Ambrose was thankful for the dismissal. He fled for his ship, weariness dragging at every muscle.

"You have fifty-three messages from your fireteam," Peach said.

Ambrose had made it back to his apartment in the Tower. He was halfway through unbuckling the unfamiliar Dragon's Shadow armor, his movements clumsy with exhaustion. He couldn't wait to collapse in bed. It was two AM local time, and the Tower was dark and quiet.

"Why so many messages?" he said, locating a buckle. "Did someone die?"

"From the looks of these," Peach said, "they think you did."

"What gave them that idea?" Ambrose said, wrestling the vest over his head.

"Apparently they saw a vision of you at the Solstice dance party," Peach replied. "Possibly connected with our jaunt through the Corridors."

"Send them a reply to tell them all is well," Ambrose said, sitting to remove his boots. "I plan to sleep for at least twelve hours. Feel free to take the skeleton of the unknown Guardian to the Crypt of Heroes. I will be along to pay my respects in the morning."

"Right," said Peach. She watched her Guardian stretch out on his bed. He was snoring within five minutes. She emoted a smile at him, then phased through the door. She had lots to do.

"Ambrose! Good to see you," Muriel said the following afternoon, pounding the Hunter on the back.

He winced, as he always did when the tall Titan greeted him. "Hello, Muriel. Any word from Charon?"

The whole fireteam had been brought together by Charon, who had shepharded their Ghosts through the wilds until they located their Guardians. The team had gone through training together as new Guardians, and had worked together so well, they'd formed an official team.

"She's currently combing Beijing, and she's doing fine," Muriel replied, with the air of someone who answered this question a lot. "Where have you been? We saw some phantom version of you last night!"

"I was traveling the Corridors of Time at Osiris's behest," Ambrose replied, pulling off his cloak. The summer sun was roasting him beneath his gear. "It rather concerns me that you saw such an apparition. Things may not transpire so well on my next journey."

"Come tell the team about it," Muriel said. She led him to a table beneath an awning, where Nathan and Ariana were already waiting with cold drinks. They were a study in contrasts: the human Hunter and the Awoken warlock, one wearing shorts and a grimy shirt, the other in an immaculate sun dress. Nathan was drawing avidly in a notebook and Ariana was pretending not to watch.

"Hello, Ambrose!" Ariana said with too much warmth, rising and taking his hand. "Come sit by me. Tell us everything!"

Ambrose shot Nathan an apologetic look and made sure not to sit too close to Ariana. She was only this nice to Ambrose when she was trying to annoy Nathan. As Ambrose told them about his mission, he pretended not to see Nathan's frown.

"And now I must somehow locate Saint-14's Ghost," Ambrose concluded. "I am uncertain where to begin. It is likely long dead, and dead Ghosts are collected by every sapient race in the system."

Nathan flicked his hair out of his eyes and gestured with his pencil. "You said it went through a Vex gate, right? You need to talk to an expert on the Vex."

"A Vex-pert?" said Ariana.

Nathan grinned. "A Vex-pert! Who do we know like that?"

"Beyond Osiris, himself?" Ambrose said, also grinning at the joke. "Not many around."

"Hey," Muriel said, snapping her fingers. "I know someone. She knows more about Vex than Osiris, I'll bet."

"I doubt it," Ambrose said. "Who?"

Muriel pulled out her Ghost and displayed a set of coordinates.