The Emperor's Wolves (Wolves of Elantra #1) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,82
race, this said something. Elluvian smiled briefly. “Instincts,” he said, “are important. You were aware of my presence.”
Severn shrugged.
“You shouldn’t have been. I was making every attempt to remain unnoticed. I have observed that human men seem to be less guarded around human females. I accept that this is true in many cases. Having met An’Tellarus, you will understand why that is not the norm for my kin.”
“And Cassandre.”
Elluvian inclined his head. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything,” was the instant reply. “Anything that these cases might have in common. Witnesses. Location. The Tha’alani quarter wasn’t as heavily guarded back then?”
“Not in the same way, no. But even now it is not impossible for the intrepid to leave the quarter should they desire to do so.”
“Would a death that didn’t appear to be murder also exist in Records?”
“If one of the Tha’alani were to drop dead in the streets, it’s likely that witnesses who cared enough to comment would call for the Swords. But no, not all such cases would be contained in Records.”
“Not the Records of the Halls of Law.”
Elluvian watched the boy. “You would, as I said, make an outstanding Hawk.”
Severn said nothing.
“It is where the young woman is.”
“If she’s happy there, she won’t want to see me.”
“She is not officially a Hawk. She is too young. You are, if you have not lied about your age, considered adult by Imperial Law. Tell me, do you know anything about the marks she bears?”
Severn stiffened, and the silence he offered was a wall—a windowless, doorless wall.
“It is not from your interview that I have come across this information. The marks are known.”
Severn’s silence became less a wall and more a blade.
Elluvian smiled. “Very well. If you wish to access Records to find commonality, you can choose the person in question—the witness you are currently viewing, for example. You can then bring up any other cases in which the witness was involved—either as witness or criminal.”
Severn tried this. The witness he had chosen had been involved in two petty crimes—pickpocketing—and had served as witness in three other cases.
“The crime didn’t take place in the warrens,” Severn noted. “None of the crimes did.”
“No.” Elluvian was well aware of the location at which bodies had been discovered. “Not given witness testimony.”
Severn, however, was no longer listening. The mirror moved constantly between flickering images. Tha’alani corpses. Street locations. Witnesses. Lists of injuries taken.
Severn shook his head, as if the information was not quite what he was searching for. He expanded the search, or attempted to expand it. The mirror resisted him until Elluvian, far more annoyed by this than Severn seemed to be, took over the search. There was nothing in Records to which Elluvian did not have access.
Severn, who hadn’t heard Elluvian approach, definitely heard Rosen. It wasn’t the cane—although it made her walk distinctive—it was the heaviness of her steps.
“If you have time to peruse Records,” she snapped, “do so in your own office. Unless you want to supervise Severn while dealing with paperwork, in which case, do so with my gratitude and my blessing.”
“You did not care for—Ah, no. That wasn’t you. The last person who made a similar offer disliked intensely the way I dealt with paperwork. It is an honest day’s work, yes, but I’m Barrani. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Rosen didn’t tell Severn why the Wolflord had called her away, which was fair. Severn hadn’t asked. Nor, given her expression, would he. These magical Records were exactly what he wanted, and he didn’t wish to lose that access by annoying her further.
Rosen wasn’t Elluvian’s concern. Nor was the paperwork which Severn had already learned was considered a waste of time by most of the people stuck dealing with it.
“Records, pause,” Elluvian said to Rosen’s mirror. “Resume in my office.”
* * *
Elluvian’s office had a bank of windows on the far wall, which surprised Severn; the Wolflord’s office let in very little light. The windows, such as they were, were small and high, beginning at the ceiling and extending perhaps two feet toward the floor. They were barred. Even if they hadn’t been, it would be difficult for anyone to break in through them, unless they were very young or very flexible.
Elluvian was not concerned with possible attacks.
He walked over to a desk that seemed to be coated with a fine layer of dust. “You don’t drink?”
“Not when I’m on duty,” Severn replied. It was true. It wasn’t the whole of the truth.