Amadi shifted in her seat and half-whispered: “Murder in Starhaven.”
Shannon’s heart began to strike. “Who?”
“This is a sensitive issue, one that must be hidden until the convocation is over. The delegates must renew the treaties.”
“I’m aware of that. Now will you tell me who has been killed?”
“Bear with me, Magister. Five hours ago a janitorial gargoyle working beneath the Spindle Bridge discovered what he thought to be a dying woman.”
“What he thought was a dying woman?”
“She was already dead, but her body was still filling itself with a virulent Numinous misspell. The gargoyle, having secondary cognition, assumed she was still alive and took her to the deputy provost of libraries. She, in turn, reported to the provost, who related the information to me.”
Shannon paused. “You said this woman fell from the Spindle?”
“So it seems. What can you tell me of the bridge?”
Shannon wondered how much information he should share. Amadi had leaped to the top of the sentinel ranks, and such a feat would be impossiblewithout the support of several factions that despised Shannon. He decided to share only common knowledge until he knew more.
“You seem troubled,” Amadi said. “Is it odd that this woman was on the Spindle?”
“Surpassingly odd,” he said at last. “According to the historians, the Chthonic people built the bridge not long after they finished Starhaven. But it leads nowhere. Spans nearly a mile of air only to run into a cliff. The Chthonics did cut beautiful designs into the rock. Just north of the bridge’s end is a foliate pattern—ivy leaves, I believe—and south is a hexagonal pattern.”
“Any explanation for the carvings? Or the bridge itself?”
Shannon shrugged. “Folktales about the Chthonics building a road to a paradise called Heaven Tree Valley. Supposedly when the Neosolar Empire began to massacre the Chthonics, their goddess led them to the Heaven Tree and dropped a mountain on the road. Some say the Spindle once led to that road.”
“Any evidence to support such a tale?”
“None. But every so often, the historians probe the mountainside with text, trying to open the way to the Heaven Tree. They’ve found only rock.” He paused. “Do you think the murder is connected to any of this?”
The soft swish of moving cloth told Shannon that Amadi was shifting in her seat again. “Not that I can see,” she said and then sighed.
Shannon paused before he spoke again. “Amadi, I am shocked and grieved by this tragedy. And yet…please don’t think me heartless, but I don’t want to become involved. I must think of my research and my students. Helping you might drag me into political situations. As I said, I am a different man than I was in the North. But if you refrain from mentioning my name, I’ll give whatever advice I can. But I’d still need to know the victim’s name.”
A long pause. She spoke: “Nora Finn, the grammarian.”
“Sweet heaven!” Shannon whispered in shock. Nora had been the Drum Tower’s dean and his fiercest academic rival.
Instantly his mind spun with the possible implications of the murder. It might be an indirect attack by old enemies. It might also be connected to the restless guardian spells and Nicodemus’s prowler on top of the Stacks. That would make the Drum Tower the focus of the intrigue.
Shannon fingered the asterisks on the spine of his journal. His enemies might hope to exact revenge by harming his students. His thoughts jumped to Nicodemus. The boy’s cacography had proven he was not the Halcyon, but Shannon’s enemies in Astrophell might have heard his name and so marked him as their target.
Or, far less likely but more frightening, the boy might have some unknown connection to the Erasmine Prophecy. If that were so, then the fate of all human language would be in jeopardy.
“Did you know Magistra Finn?” Amadi asked.
Shannon started. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you know Finn?” Amadi repeated patiently.
Shannon nodded. “Nora and I both took care of the Drum Tower’s students. As the Drum Tower’s master, I see to our students’ residential matters. As the dean, Nora governed their academics. But these students don’t often study. I end up counseling the few who do advance to lesser wizards. Nora had little contact with them. Nora and I were both being considered for the same Chair. Rivals for it, I suppose.”
“Go on.”
Shannon paused. He dared not share more information with Amadi until he was certain of her allegiances.
So he did what academics do best: he threw his hands in