It actually took a second for Artemis’ eyes to adjust and make out the shadowy figure at the door. Underneath pitch-black leather armor that tightly wrapped around his eyes and snout, and clothed under an equally black cloak that shrouded his head and draped down to envelop the carpet, and, indeed, the whole doorway in shadow, the imposingly rigid, black colt that stood before her was, unmistakably, one thing she absolutely did not expect to find knocking at the door just now: