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.
“You will not be outraged if I indulge?”
But Severn was now seated in front of Elluvian’s mirror, which was actually much larger than the one on Rosen’s desk. Elluvian’s mirror did not have to share space with trays of paper, unopened correspondence, and books meant to schedule appointments to speak with the elusive Lord Marlin.
“How much information can Records contain?”
“I am not aware that there is a limit,” Elluvian said.
“Why does all the paperwork exist, then?”
“You understand the necessity for paperwork?”
“Rosen explained it.”
Elluvian laughed. “I’m surprised your ears are still attached to your head.”
“She’d probably be happier if all of it was contained in Records.”
“No doubt. So would every person who has handled this particular desk since the inception of the Wolves.”
“Why isn’t it done?”
“Itisdone. But the paperwork allows for signatures and seals in a way that Records doesn’t. And the mechanism by which Records works is not well understood by many. Most of those who could claim that understanding are members of the Arcanum.”
“Arcanum? Imperial Mages?”
Elluvian chuckled. “Never, ever ask that where either Arcanists or Imperial Mages can hear you. No. The Arcanum is an ancient institute; it predates the Empire. It is where the best and brightest go to study magic, if they have displayed the aptitude for it. Imperial Mages work directly for the Emperor, and by extension, the Halls of Law. There are no Barrani Imperial Mages. No Barrani palace guards. No Barrani in Imperial Service.”
“But there are Barrani Wolves. And Hawks.”
“Say, rather, Barrani Wolf.” If he expected Severn to ask him to elucidate, those expectations were to be disappointed. Severn was now scanning Records, sifting them for any information he might find that they had missed.
“I want to speak with the Tha’alanari.”
“Again?” Elluvian smiled. “When you say Tha’alanari, do you refer to Ybelline?”
There was no answering smile. “It doesn’t matter who. It could be Garadin.”
“Will you venture into the Tha’alani quarter again?”