Cast in Wisdom (Chronicles of Elantra #15) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,18

people.”

“If it’s just that, it seems like a big outlay of magic and planning.”

“Corpses breed questions. Questions get the Halls of Law involved. Enough deaths, enough questions, and the Imperial Mages might be called. There. Stop there.”

She did. She looked through Hope’s wing.

“Barrani,” she said. “I don’t recognize him.”

“No. You don’t have to recognize him. I believe there’s another—the farthest one back. The figure is small, but the features appear distinct, even given the size.”

* * *

“How many of those missing persons reports involved people from the warrens?” Kaylin asked the Dragon, the closest thing to Records on hand.

“Not many people who live in the warrens visit the Halls of Law,” the Dragon replied. “I begin to understand why Mandoran is so foolish in his desire to give his name—and the power that implies—to you. I find it intensely frustrating not to be able to see what you’re seeing; you are clearly making decisions based on it.”

“Do not give me the name I didn’t take when it was clear to me. I like my head more or less where it is.”

This annoyed Bellusdeo, which wasn’t Kaylin’s intent, but the subtext—that the Emperor would be angry and that Kaylin wished to avoid this—was clear. The Dragon exhaled smoke.

“People have been reported as missing from the warrens. If I can’t see what you can see—and I don’t suggest that your familiar attempt to breathe upon the entire wall—I can’t tell you if any of them are here.”

Kaylin nodded. “I think the two Barrani might be significant.”

“More so than the mortals?”

“To Candallar, yes. And probably to the High Court, as well. We need to go back to the Halls.”

Bellusdeo nodded. “One small problem, however.”

“Yeah. Which way is out?”

* * *

That question became the only relevant question an hour later. It had edged past normal lunch hour, and while street duties could get in the way of timely meals, Kaylin’s stomach didn’t care much about duty. It made noise.

The building appeared to consist of one large room—the room with the wall—but it also had two rooms to either side of the major one. Kaylin assumed that they would be rectangles, roughly the length of the main room—a room that appeared to be featureless and empty without the visual aid provided by Hope.

Bellusdeo checked out the doors, assessing their possibly magical consequences before she allowed them to be touched or opened. Severn, accustomed to the Dragon, allowed this. Kaylin was almost certain that if he said No, Bellusdeo would step back, something she would never do for Kaylin.

“The marks on your arms aren’t glowing,” the Dragon said. “And your general whining hasn’t increased. I think we’re safe from magical difficulties for the moment.”

She was right. The door—a small door better suited to a mudroom or a closet—opened into a long room. Unlike the first room, it appeared to be a study of some sort; two desks were flush against the far wall. There was no paper, no writing implements, nothing that implied that the desks had been used.

Kaylin exhaled and glanced at Hope. She attempted to open one of the drawers. It was locked. The knob felt oddly greasy, given the almost sterile room. “The other door?”

Severn nodded.

The second room was not a room; the door led to a hall with doorless walls that ended in stairs.

“Why do they always have to go down?”

Severn started into the hall. “There’s no other door,” he said. “And it’s possible that the entrance and exit are underground.”

“In Candallar?”

“If we’re lucky.”

* * *

This was not the first time they had entered an unexpected basement. Given her general luck, it probably wouldn’t be the last, but the statue of a boy Bellusdeo thought had gone missing remained firmly fixed in mind. She couldn’t be certain that people hadn’t just been sucked into the wall when they touched it; couldn’t be certain that they hadn’t found their way into this place the same way she had. Giant eyeballs on the side of buildings would have been cause for gossip or worry—but not if no one who’d seen them made their way back.

And to be fair, if they had, they weren’t likely to be believed by anyone who didn’t live on the edge of the fiefs. Strange things happened in the border zone. It was both a whisper and a fear, and the only thing that could drive the desperate across the borders were the hunting Ferals. If the Ferals were on your heels, you knew what death awaited. The unknown was