Severn cleared his throat. “When you say abitof dust, you didn’t mean this room, right?”
The crackle of blue light faded. Evanton didn’t turn, but said, “Of course I meant this room. If you’ve the cheek to criticize, do something useful about it instead.” He gestured, and a bucket appeared in the corner of the room. Given its age, it hadn’t been created by magic. Given the room, it might never have been used.
“You should find a different partner,” Evanton said. “Or a different vocation.”
“You should leave the testing of Wolves to the Wolves,” Elluvian told the old man. His eyes were a much darker shade of blue.
“I find your tests to be suboptimal, given how often Wolves go rogue.”
“And when we desire optimal testing, we’ll come to you and request it.”
“Ah? I am not afraid of the Tha’alaan or the Tha’alani. You are. Were you more courageous, you would not be here at all.”
“I’m not afraid of the Tha’alani,” Severn said quietly.
This time, the old man turned to face him. “I can almost believe that, when you say it. And that is unusual. But if that is the case, anything you require you have already taken. And anything Elluvian requires, he has not. No,” he added, “I would never subject the Tha’alani to the interior of a Barrani mind. I feel there is a reason we all have minds of our own. As I said, you may stay and be of use. If you dislike dust, clean. The well is down the road, to the left. There are cloths in the kitchen. The bucket is stronger than it looks.”
“It looks like it leaks.”
“Do you really think that is my concern at the moment?”
He wasn’t the one who’d be carrying the water. Given the presence of angry Barrani, however, Severn shook his head wordlessly and went in search of water.
Severn had time to find the well, to return to the store—Evanton had kindly not locked the door in his absence—and to find cloths; he had time to consider the cobwebs and also time to find a broom. He even had time to, as Evanton had put it, make himself useful; the use had not unearthed any objects of apparent value to the junior Wolf. He doubted that he’d find anything, and even if he did, doubted he could afford it.
When Elluvian returned to the storefront, he returned alone. “Do not give me that look.”
“Where’s the old man?”
“The old man is lording it over his damn garden. We’re to show ourselves out.”
“We don’t have keys.”
“If you think that petty thievery is a concern, you have failed to understand Evanton.”
A casual glance around slightly cleaner shelves followed. “What do you expect Evanton to know?”
“It’s not what he personally knows that’s relevant. It’s what he refers to as his garden. We call it the Keeper’s Garden, and Evanton, the Keeper. It houses the heart of the elemental forces, and when they are in a reasonable mood, they will condescend to speak with us.
“Only one of the four speaks in a way we can understand.”
“You spoke to the one who can.”
“Yes.” Elluvian sounded annoyed. “And I will owe the Keeper a future favor, or the communication would not have been allowed at all.”
Severn thought of the flash of blue light, the crack of thunder, the anger of dark Barrani eyes. He then nodded. Those eyes were, if anything, darker; in the lack of sunlight they looked almost black. “You know who we’re hunting.”
“There are complications.”
Severn nodded. Where Barrani were involved, the bigger surprise would be lack of complication. As he rinsed his hands in water that was now almost the color of Elluvian’s eyes, he said, “Hostages or rank?”
“Youhavebeen talking to Helmat.”
“Rosen, actually.”
“At the moment? Rank. The one thing you will understand before you graduate: the Barrani do not take hostages.”
“Rosen said—”