“And the laws of exemption?”
“The decision was not mine.”
This surprised Severn. “Not yours? Would you have invoked the Emperor’s Law in the High Halls?”
“I think I would have found it amusing, had I survived the attempt—that was not guaranteed. My death, however, was not guaranteed either. The decision was the Emperor’s to make: the Wolves are his.”
“How did he die?”
“He allowed himself to be goaded into discourteous action by a Lord of the High Court. There was not enough of him left to bury decently.”
This, Severn had not heard. “Magic?”
Elluvian nodded. His eyes had been dark blue all morning, and their color didn’t change. “Had Mellianne been the attendant Wolf, she would have survived.”
“She’d survive magic?”
“She would not have been goaded into suicide. Darrell was talented. He was, on the surface, far more talented than Mellianne. More than Rosen or even Jaren. Helmat was his equal in the early years of his training. This talent at mastering basic lessons quickly seems to impress your kind; it does not impress ours as readily.”
“Why?”
“Because it is not the speed of absorption that defines success for my kin. If one cannot survive, talent and promise are utterly irrelevant. He was good, yes—but far too impressed with his own talent. I did not see that clearly when I brought him in. The Wolves were not as impressed with his talent as he was, but it was close.”
“But they blame you.”
“He was my attendant at the time—as you will be today. For no other reason would he be allowed into the High Halls. His death was seen as my failure.”
Severn’s face did not take up the frown it might have had he been with Ybelline. “Was it seen as a failure by you?”
“You are perceptive, Private. It was my failure—but not in the way Mellianne believes it was. I am Barrani. I am, to her eyes, old. She understands some larger measure of my power than you do, and while she has access to Records, she has spent little time with the Barrani.”
“She thinks you could have saved him.”
“Yes.”
“The Wolflord doesn’t.”
“No. But Helmat is decades older; he has seen far more. In as much as he is willing to trust anyone, he trusts me—but it is a trust born of necessity. He was not happy, of course. But he did not fault me in the way Mellianne does.”
“You wanted to leave the office before he arrived.”
“Yes.”
“Because you didn’t want him to see the tabard.”
“Indeed.”
“The tabard,” Severn continued, after a pause in which he gathered words. “It’s not for Corvallan or Cassandre or any of the Barrani we might meet in the gallery. It’s for An’Tellarus.”
Elluvian’s eyes lightened slightly as he glanced at Severn. “An’Tellarus is not part of our investigation, and Cassandre has agreed to entertain us. It is the reason we now return to the High Halls.”
“It was the reason we went there the first time, as well. You seemed more concerned with An’Tellarus than with the two Lords who could well help us find the person responsible for the Tha’alani murders.” When Elluvian failed to reply, Severn said, “It’s An’Tellarus you’re worried about. It’s An’Tellarus to whom you wish to make a point.”
Elluvian surrendered, then. “It is indeed. We will need to walk very, very carefully in the presence of An’Tellarus. The oracle made that clear.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Elluvian had lied. This became obvious when Severn enteredthe High Halls and made his way to the rooms that Lords Corvallan and Cassandre occupied. The long row of burnished guards were not in the final hallway; the guards that were there numbered four, and they wore far less ostentatious armor. To a man, their eyes darkened until they matched the shade of Elluvian’s. None, however, left their post.