“Rosen fails to appreciate what a hostage is. If mortals were hunting the Barrani, they might take hostages, because they could believe that the mortal in question could be swayed to stay their hand. I am not mortal. There are very, very few who could be used as hostages against me—and frankly, if my quarry were foolish enough to even make that attempt, there would be nothing left of him for us to hunt; what is important enough to me is important to a great many powerful Lords of the High Court.”
“Where are we going?”
“We are not going anywhere. You, however, will return to the Halls of Law.”
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘don’t kill the messenger’?” Rosen asked, as Severn lingered by her desk.
“Not in those exact words.”
“Well, I advise you to repeat those exact words. Helmat is not going to be happy. Did En say where he was going?”
Severn shook his head.
“Helmat’s orders to En were that you were to tag along with him. You heard the orders?”
Severn nodded.
“If you’re here, you’re not tagging along with him. I expect you’re going to get very specific orders once Helmat clears a bit of hostility.” At Severn’s expression, she added, “Swears his head off.”
“You want me—me, new, on probation—to tell Elluvian—Immortal, Barrani, probably a mage—what to do?”
“I can see how that might be a problem for you,” Rosen said, with reluctant sympathy. “To be fair, no. But Helmat will. There are orders. There are requests. En chose to confuse the two, and he can deal with the fallout of that. You, however—on probation, as you pointed out—don’t have that option. He’s going to make it clear that his orders arenotguidelines.”
“Will he dismiss me?”
“What? For this? Not likely. Anyone who gets assigned to Barrani—well, to En, if we’re being technical, because heisour entire Barrani division—makes this mistake at least once. He won’t be angry with you. Ah, no, hewill be. But most of his ire will be directed at En.”
“Who isn’t here.”
“Remember: don’t kill the messenger.”
Severn didn’t open with Rosen’s saying. Lord Marlin didn’t open with cursing, either. He was rigid, and his jaw was set in a way that implied he was only barely holding on to his temper. He asked where the investigation had taken them.
For two days, it had taken them nowhere. Ah, no. It had taken them to the areas of three different murders from twenty years ago. All of the victims had been Tha’alani. But the trail had been cold for long enough, it was impossible to call it a trail anymore.
At the end of today, however, they had gone to Evanton.
Helmat frowned at the name. “Old man, dusty store, looks like nothing has been moved or sold, ever?”
Severn nodded.
“Where did you go after speaking with Evanton?”
“Elluvian spoke with Evanton.”
“You weren’t present for the discussion.”
“Not all of it; some of it occurred in a garden, apparently.”
Lord Marlin cursed. Liberally. Some of the words, Severn didn’t understand, but tone alone made clear what their content probably was. “And after this garden party?”
“I came here, as ordered.”
“Where did Elluvian go?”
“I’m sorry; he didn’t say.”
“Didn’t, or wouldn’t?”