These ones will, because they’re part of the job you’ve been assigned.”
“Or because it was you doing the search?”
She smiled again. “Or because I’m a Wolf and have been for too many years, yes. Records.”
The mirror, which had reflected her face with all of its expressions, seemed to almost shatter at the word, although none of the silvered glass left the frame.
She caught his involuntary movement, and her smile deepened the dimple that framed it. “I’ve been injured,” she said, “but I still have my reflexes. Far worse has been thrown at me in my time than a few shards of random glass.” The smile dimmed. “I appreciate the thought but I don’t need protection. I don’t need to be saved.”
It was Severn’s turn to flush. “My only family in the fiefs was a child five years younger than me. We weren’t used to being around adults.”
“You’ll get used to it. We’re all a bit prickly in our own ways—except Mellianne. She’s a lot prickly. You’re her opposite, but you’re on your best behavior because you’re on probation. I’d love to see what your normal behavior is like. Records, Severn Handred. Access.”
“Access is limited for candidate Handred,” the mirror replied. The thing that made that reply disturbing was the lack of any facial features, like lips, to utter the words.
“Rosen.”
“You have one saved query. Lord Marlin has approved its release to candidate Handred.”
The mirror’s murky coal gray began to swirl, to spin, and as it did, colors joined it in a messy blend that ended with an image.
He was looking at a Tha’alani man. The eyes were closed, and the stalks across his forehead broken or crushed, along with some part of his face.
“We have no images of the living man,” Rosen said, her voice softer and shorn of amusement. “No living images of any of the dead. What we have captured here are morgue Records. This man’s name was Layan. He was, at the time of his death, twenty-one Imperial years of age. His was the first death. It occurred on the nineteenth day of the fourth month. Elluvian took you to some of the later murder sites—why, I don’t know. Many crimes have occurred since this one at the same site, admittedly none as brutal.”
“Murders?”
“Two, but neither seems to be deliberate—both were drunken fights that ended in drawn knives and blood. Records, location of discovery of the corpse.”
Nothing changed. “You try.”
“Records, were there witnesses to the killing of Layan?”
The image of the dead Tha’alani man was shuffled to the side, as if it were a card. In its place came smaller pictures, four in all.
“Witness testimony,” Severn said.
When the mirror failed to move, he frowned. “Testimony from the first pictured witness.”
The picture in the top left corner expanded to fill the mirror’s frame. “This is like magic,” he murmured.
“It’s not like magic. It is magic. And no, I have no idea how the magic works. There’ll be testing—sorry—if you survive your probation period.”
“Testing?”
“For magical aptitude.” At his expression, she laughed. “I know, right? None of us have shown any aptitude, but historically, a handful of Wolves have. Elluvian doesn’t count.”
“He can use magic.” It was only half a question.
“Yes, and a damn sight better than the Imperial Mages.”
“Why is he here?”
“The Emperor’s personal orders,” Rosen replied, shrugging. “He’s always been here. I think he’ll always be here. And we want one Barrani on the roster. Mortals don’t do well when they’re hunting Barrani at the Emperor’s command.”
“According to Mellianne—”
Rosen’s hand snapped out and flattened. “Don’t go there. Your job in this hunt is to keep Elluvian in check. You’re not a pawn; you’re a necessary sheath to his sword. You’re a necessary presence because if you get entangled in Barrani political conflict, killing you has consequences that killing Elluvian won’t.”
“If Elluvian kills?”
“He’ll argue self-defense, and the Emperor will accept that—as long as the person killed is Barrani.” The Wolflord’s voice barked over the beginning of witness testimony, and Records froze. “Rosen. My office.”
“I’ll leave you with Records,” she said, grimacing as she rose. She reached for her cane. “You’ll get used to Helmat’s tone. This one is too controlled; it means drop everything else.”
“Trouble?”
“You work for the Halls of Law,” she replied. “There’s always trouble. Most of it won’t concern your investigation.”
* * *
“There is a faster way to do that.”
Severn glanced to the side. Elluvian had come to stand beside Rosen’s unoccupied chair. Severn was surprised, but not enough to jump or draw defensive weapons. Given Elluvian’s