Severn shook his head. “I don’t think it’s helpful to be there. The only people who will speak to me are Tha’alanari—the people who serve the Emperor.”
“In which case, they might as well come here?”
“Lord Marlin said there was one man seconded to the Hawks we might speak to.”
“I am certain that was not his exact phrasing. Use the mirror,” Elluvian said.
Severn blinked.
“Use it like this: Ybelline, Tha’alanari.”
The mirror’s many disparate images faded. When color returned, Severn was now staring at the face of the future castelord.
“You wish to know about any Tha’alani death that occurred during the serial killings?”
“Yes. Not murders—or not obvious, detectable murders—but deaths. Any age group. Any location.”
“If the deaths were suspicious, would it not be more germane to look for unremarkable deaths outside of the quarter itself?”
“I don’t think any death that occurred outside of the quarter would be considered unremarkable,” Severn replied. “But if there are such deaths, they would be relevant.”
“You’ve searched Records in the Halls of Law?”
Severn nodded.
“And you’ve not found the information you seek.”
“I haven’t put all the information together—but no, I don’t think so. The deaths that occurred, that were listed as natural, happened too much before or too much after. And there are only two.”
“You believe that someone entered the Tha’alani quarter to kill one of my kin without alerting either the victim or the guards?”
“I think there are ways to kill that would be near instant and that would not cause alarm in the victim before his or her untimely, immediate death. Whoever was responsible for this death would understand the Tha’alaan as well as anyone who isn’t a part of it. The murders of your kin were brutal.”
“You think this was done entirely to harm the Tha’alaan.”
“I think it might have been done around the same time to possibly stop any of the Tha’alani from touching those memories or any memories surrounding the deaths, yes. I don’t think the person involved hated the Tha’alani.” He shook his head. “No, I think he must have hated or feared them—but I don’t think he bore ill will to the people he indirectly murdered.
“They were tools.”
“Your kin has long feared mine, and fear causes insanity.”
“Yes. But... I think he must have understood some part of that as well. If the Tha’alaan was injured enough, things might be buried that would otherwise draw attention.”
She was silent. Her eyes were green. In a human face, it would have been a lovely color. “Very well.” She closed her eyes. Opened them again. “This is not an avenue of investigation we pursued at the time—we know and fear the fear of your kind. We accept that it exists, but we do not always understand the complexities and the layers.”
“You think we’re all insane.”
“Isolation would drive any of my kin to madness. We do not understand how your kin have survived without destroying themselves utterly—but we understand that they have. So, too, the Barrani.”
“We don’t trust.”
“No. And perhaps that is safest. But I think many of you desire to be able to trust—to find the person or people that you can. And I believe, if you had always had those people in your lives, you would not—or your criminals would not—become what they become. It is hard to feel isolated, to feel unloved, unsupported, unheard.”
Severn nodded.
“I will search. For this request, the Tha’alanari have not united against me, and I doubt they will.”
“Your cub,” Helmat said, as he viewed Records in his office, “is surprising.”