Session 9

Brabara pushed the wooden lid off the otherwise empty coffin and climbed painfully out into an unremarkable catacomb. She looked back down into the box she’d just left and saw nothing out of the ordinary there.

The Crevice of Dusk, it seemed, was a one-way trip.

With her weapon at the ready she took stock of her surroundings. The air was cool with a musty smell. A few other coffins rested in alcoves cut into the stone, but it looked as though they’d not been disturbed in many years.

A dusty shaft of light speared the darkness about twenty feet away but apart from that the catacomb was dark and silent.

Ebyn appeared next and climbed out to stand beside her, then Eldon, Seknafret, and finally Xalen. Once they were all together again, she replaced the dislodged coffin lid and headed down the passage.

“Did it work?” Xalen asked. “Are we back?”

“We’re somewhere,” Seknafret said softly in response.

Brabara reached the spot illuminated by the light, paused then motioned for the others to follow.

“There’s a door up ahead,” the big warrior whispered. “Stay close and keep an eye out for any restless dead.”

They reached the door and pulled the heavy stone open with a loud scraping sound. Sunlight burst through from outside and Brabara stuck her head out to look around.

“We’re back,” she said upon seeing the familiar Neverwinter skyline. “We made it.”

Eldon let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you, truly,” he said. “Without your timely intervention I would surely be dead, or worse, a mindless husk.”

“Thank you,” Xalen said in response. “Without your knowledge we’d still be stuck in that hell hole. I reckon that pretty much makes us even.”

Eldon chuckled. “You’re too kind. I’m sure a group as skilled and resourceful as ‘The Heroes of Neverwinter’ would’ve found a way home even without my help.”

“You’ve heard of us?” Brabara said, cheeks reddening.

Eldon nodded. “Few in the city haven’t. Your faces may not be well known, but your deeds are a source of renown.”

“I see. Well, um, you should know… we go by The Succulent Juices now,” Brabara explained.

Seknafret gasped. “We most certainly do not!”

Brabara leaned toward Eldon and whispered behind her hand. “We do.”

Eldon glanced between the two women, saying nothing.

“Anyway,” Xalen interjected. “We should see you safely home.”

“No need,” Eldon said. “It’s daylight so the graveyard will be safe enough. I don’t have far to go after that.”

“If you’re sure,” said Xalen. He took up his bag of holding and reached inside. “Here’s that book you were eyeing off. We’ll call that your share if you’re happy with that?”

Eldon took the heavy tome and clutched it to his chest. “Thank you, that’s more than fair.”

The group exited the small crypt and made their way through the pauper’s graveyard. It looked to be about mid-morning, but nobody could be sure how much time had passed since they’d been transported to Evernight.

Once outside the cemetery they bid Eldon goodbye and headed directly to Castle Never to report their findings to the lord. They reached the castle gate before midday and, unlike last time, they were immediately ushered into an antechamber where Foskar, Lord Neverember’s chamberlain, greeted them.

“It is good to see you,” the fussy man said. “It’s been a few days since we’d heard from you. We feared the worst.”

Ebyn raised an eyebrow. “A few days?”

“Oh yes,” Foskar replied. “Lord Neverember sent you on your quest four days ago.”

“Really?” Brabara scratched at the back of her head. “It doesn’t feel like we’ve been gone that long.”

“Who knows how time works in Evernight,” Xalen said. “And we could have been unconscious in those coffins for way longer than we thought.”

Foskar’s eyes widened. “Evernight? Coffins? Oh dear. In any case I have brought you here so that you might wash away the stains of this clearly arduous journey before being presented to the Lord Protector.”

Brabara opened her mouth to say something, but she looked down to see the blood and filth that covered her skin and clothes. “Yes, right,” she stammered. “That is a great idea.”

“Wait here,” Foskar said with a loud clap of his hands. “Baths will be brought in for each of you.”

Seknafret eyed the room sceptically. “All four of us? Together in this room?”

Foskar nodded. “The servants will hang sheets so you can have some privacy. Just tell them how you’d like the room arranged. They will also take your clothes to be washed, and replacement garments will be provided for anything that is too…” he paused to look at the deep red stain at Brabara’s shoulder, “… um, damaged. Please ring that bell by the door once you’re ready to be presented to the Lord Protector.”

The chamberlain left them, and a team of servants filed in to set up the room.

---

The group waited outside Lord Neverember’s audience hall while Foskar adjusted his cuffs and fussed with the collar of his richly embroidered jacket. Only when the man was completely satisfied with the way his uniform sat did he proceed to open the chamber doors and announce their arrival.

The chamberlain stepped inside and rapped his staff of office against the stone floor three times. The metallic clang echoed in the vaulted ceiling of the hall and caused everyone present to turn and face the door.

Brabara’s face reddened with all those eyes upon her. Even after having bathed and being dressed in clean clothes she could feel their judgement as they looked her over.

“It is with great pleasure,” Foskar said in a booming voice. “That I announce the triumphant arrival of the Heroes of Neverwinter. Newly returned from a perilous quest to rescue several prominent citizens of this fair city.”

There was a show of polite applause from the petitioners and officials gathered in the hall. Foskar stepped clear of the doors and ushered the four of them inside.

Lord Neverember beamed at them as he sat on his throne at the rear of the lofty chamber. He waited for them to stop at the point indicated by the chamberlain and clapped his hands together. “My friends. It is wonderful to see you back, and in good health I might add.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Brabara said, standing at attention slightly forward of the others. “We have much to speak with you about, and I fear it may be somewhat time critical.”

The Lord Protector nodded gravely. “Of course, of course. Foskar!”

“Yes, my lord,” Foskar said, empty hand placed flat against his chest while the staff of office was held rigidly upright in the other.

“Have the war room readied. I will consult with The Heroes in there.”

Foskar gave a slight bow. “Of course, my lord.” He turned to Brabara and extended an arm toward a closed door to the side of the audience chamber. “Please follow me.”

He led the group into the room beyond that door. A long, narrow room with a massive polished wooden table in the middle. Tall windows on one wall provided plenty of light and several small fires burned low in hearths between the windows not quite doing enough to take the chill out of the air.

“The Lord Protector will be with us as soon as it is convenient,” Foskar began. “Until then, I ask that you please remain here. Food and drink will soon be forthcoming, and I’ll have the staff stoke the fires to warm us up.”

“Thank you, Lord Chamberlain,” Brabara said. “That’s very kind.”

“Any idea how long we will have to wait?” Ebyn asked.

“Lord Neverember will attend you as soon as he can,” Foskar replied.

Seknafret cleared her throat. “When you announced us, you implied that we’re here because we were successful in rescuing the missing citizens.”

Foskar’s brow furrowed. “Were you not?”

“No, I mean yes, we did manage to rescue most of them,” Seknafret said.

Foskar scratched his chin. “Most of them?”

“I’m afraid we failed to find Indrina before we were transported to Evernight,” Seknafret explained. “It’s possible she may yet be rescued but given how long we have been away it seems unlikely.”

“I see,” Foskar said. “This is a disappointing development.”

“But the thing is,” Seknafret pressed. “You never once asked us what happened.”

Foskar smiled slightly. “Lord Neverember has instructed me to always couch your arrival in a triumphant way. You are, after all, the Heroes of Neverwinter. Success should always be celebrated, and failure need never be spoken of in a public forum.”

“Politics,” Xalen scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “What we do is dangerous, but at least we get to confront our enemies head on.”

“Quite so, young man,” Foskar said. “The political road is a maze of treachery and hidden enemies compared to the path of the hero. I am sure the Lord Protector would rather be by your side facing down the enemies of the realm with sword in hand instead of dealing with vipers at court.”

“The lord is always welcome to join us,” Brabara said.

Foskar chuckled at that. “I will be sure to let him know. Now, if you don’t mind, I have other duties. Please remain here, Lord Neverember and I will return as soon as we are able.”

Foskar gave them a perfunctory bow then bustled out of the room closing the door behind him.

“The lord is always welcome to join us?” Xalen said after a moment. “Are you mad?”

Brabara shrugged. “It’s not like he ever would, so what’s the harm in making the offer.”

It was an hour before Lord Neverember, Foskar, and another man, whose vestments marked him as a priest of Oghma, entered the room.

“Sorry for the delay,” Lord Neverember began as he took up a plate and started stacking it with food. “I wanted to conclude my business before meeting with you, so you can have my full attention.”

“We serve at your pleasure, my lord,” Brabara said with a stiff bow.

“This is Senior Scribe, Marton Lector,” the Lord Protector said indicating the newcomer. “He is here from the House of Knowledge so we can document your formal report.”

Marton nodded at the assembled group and took out a small notebook. “Well met, everyone.”

“Now,” Lord Neverember said in a more serious tone. “I understand that you were unable to rescue all our missing citizens, is that correct?”

“I’m afraid so, my lord,” Brabara said. “We found Eldon Keyward being subjected to some kind of ritual by the cultists. We rescued Eldon but wild magic from the interrupted ritual caused us to be transported to a place called Evernight.”

Lord Neverember raised an eyebrow. “Evernight?”

“A dark cousin to Neverwinter that exists in The Shadowfell,” Marton replied in a nasally voice.

Lord Neverember looked over at the priest. “Does it pose any danger to the city?”

Marton shook his head. “No, sir. Travel between here and there is difficult and rare.”

“I see,” the Lord Protector said, and popped a grape into his mouth. “Carry on, sergeant.”

Brabara cleared her throat and took a sip of water. “We found that Jerot Galgin was not a victim of these kidnappers. He was, rather, the one behind the entire plot and the leader of the cult in this city.”

Lord Neverember’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you have proof to support such a serious allegation.”

“We do, my lord,” Brabara went on. “Obviously you will have the testimony of the three victims we did rescue, but we also have this.”

Brabara unrolled the portable hole on the floor beside her and reached in to remove the corpse of Jerot Galgin. She hooked her hands under the man’s shoulders and laid the body out.

“What is this?” Foskar said with a squeak. “How dare you…”

Lord Neverember raised a hand to cut him off. “Come now, Foskar, there is no need for such outrage. This is hardly the first dead body I have seen, and I suspect it won’t be the last.”

Foskar coughed and shifted in his seat. “As you say, my lord.”

Brabara waited for the two men to stop talking before continuing. “I understand that it is possible to ask questions of the dead. Is that not so, Scribe Lector?”

Marton glanced down at the body. “That is accurate,” he said. “But their answers are often cryptic, and they are not compelled to speak truthfully.” “But you can do it?” Brabara pressed.

The priest nodded. “We can.”

“And you shall,” Lord Neverember said. “We must get to the bottom of this.”

“May I be present during the questioning?” Ebyn asked. “I am very keen to hear his answers.”

Marton shook his head. “I would not advise it. Since you were involved in this man’s death his spirit would be reluctant to respond were you to be there.”

“Can we at least make a suggestion regarding the questions?” Seknafret asked.

“Of course,” Marton said. “Naturally we will provide you with a transcript of the answers.”

“And, Lord Neverember, if I may?” Brabara said. “With what you have learned here, added to what we have shared previously regarding Jerot Galgin’s criminal involvements, I trust that you will consider overturning my husband’s conviction and bring him home?”

Lord Neverember nodded. “I will consider it. Pending the answers from Jerot’s corpse, of course.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Brabara said.

Lord Neverember clapped his hands together. “Now, onto something far more exciting. Foskar. The documents?”

Foskar reached into the satchel that hung from his side and produced four richly illuminated scrolls and laid them out on the table.

“In recognition of your tireless service to the city,” Lord Neverember said. “I have directed Foskar to prepare four deeds, one for each of you, to some apartments within the city’s Bluelake District.”

Brabara’s jaw dropped. “Apartments, for us?”

Lord Neverember nodded. “I know it’s not much, but, after everything you have done for us, I want you to have some small piece of this city to call your own.”

---

Brabara opened the door to her new apartment, still not quite sure she believed what was happening. Tiny was going to be released, and now she had a place the two of them could call home. A place where they could put down roots and finally, perhaps, start a family.

She entered the small L-shaped building, one of four in the block that all shared an inner courtyard. It may have been small compared to the homes of the nobility, but it was still bigger than the house she’d grown up in, or the rooms she’d rented with Tiny before his arrest.

And it was hers.

All she had to do now was buy some furniture.

She spied Ebyn across the courtyard casting some kind of spell on his front door. “What are you doing?”

“Arcane Lock,” he replied. “It will bolster the doorway and provide some extra security.”

“Extra security?” Brabara said as she came up beside him. “This is maybe the safest district in the city. I doubt you’ll need to worry about someone breaking in.”

Ebyn frowned. “It’s not the common criminals I am concerned about. I can do your doors and windows as well if you like.”

Brabara shrugged. “Sure, fine, if it will make you feel better. I’m off to buy some furniture so the place will look nice when Tiny comes home.”

“You’re sure it will work out that way?” Ebyn asked.

“I think so,” Brabara replied. “We know Jerot Galgin is guilty. The answers the priests get from his corpse, added to the evidence Captain Kevori and I found, will make it clear that Tiny was a patsy in Jerot’s schemes.”

“I hope you’re right,” Ebyn said.

“It’ll be great to have him home,” Brabara mused. “It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to feel happy. I hope I haven’t forgotten how to do it.”

Ebyn’s brows furrowed. “You understand that we’re not out of the woods yet, right?”

Brabara shrugged. “What do you mean?”

“I know that you saw the lich weaving his magic as we moved between worlds,” Ebyn explained. “Plus, you cannot ignore what happened when Newmy shared her secret back in Evernight.”

“But we got back home. It’s over.”

Ebyn shook his head. “No. We are at the beginning of something terrible. That’s why I’m protecting the doors and windows, so we won’t get snatched in the middle of the night by more of Vecna’s minions.”

A large part of Brabara’s good mood evaporated. “Thanks for that, Ebyn. Just when I was starting to feel good about things, I knew I could trust you to remind me how shit everything is.”

“You have to be realistic,” he said. “Now, where would you like me to start.”

---

Xalen sat in a corner booth at a tavern in one of the seedier parts of town. He nursed a tall tankard of ale as he waited for Slippery Pete to join him.

It was mid-morning, so the place was practically empty, save for a few drunks sleeping it off from the night before. Xalen watched them for a time, just to make sure nobody was faking, but if there was subterfuge at play, he saw no sign of it.

His foster father entered the taproom and gave the unconscious patrons a wary glance. He strode to the bar, ordered a pair of drinks, then made his way across to Xalen.

“Hey there, lad,” Slippery Pete said. “It’s been a while. Sorry I’m late, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t being followed.”

Xalen shrugged. “It’s all good. I get that I’m not super popular with the guild right now.”

Pete nodded. “Best make good on your tithes, son, ‘efore someone pays a visit to that swanky new apartment of yours in Bluelake.”

Xalen snorted, “You heard about that?”

“The guild hears everything, lad.” Pete took a sip of his drink then grimaced. “Why’d you pick this shit hole? The beer here tastes like piss.”

Xalen laughed and pointed at his own, still full, cup. “I know, it wasn’t for the booze. It was for the ambiance.”

Now it was Pete’s turn to laugh. “The ambiance ain’t for shit either. What did you want to see me about?”

Xalen took a deep breath and gave his foster father a serious look. “I think it’s time you told me the truth about how you found me.”

Slippery Pete looked down at his cup, took another sip, gagged, then put it back down. “I was wonderin’ how long before you asked me that.”

“Ok then,” Xalen said. “I expect that means you’ve been practicing your answer.”

Pete shook his head. “No need to practice, son. Just want you to understand that I’m not that guy anymore. Finding you changed me, and while it ain’t been riches and roses, I done good by you since then.”

Xalen nodded. “I know that, Pete.”

Pete cleared his throat and started talking. “My crew had been working the road between Waterdeep and Triboar, hitting merchant caravans and wealthy travellers and whatnot. One night, while we waited, a sudden mist came up from nowhere. Thicker than anything I’d seen before.”

He absently took another sip of his drink then spat it back out and pushed his cup across the table. “You got anything that doesn’t taste like the arse end of a dead dog?”

Xalen reached beneath his coat and offered Pete a flask he’d brought for just this reason. “Dwarven spirit,” he said. “The good stuff.”

“Thanks, lad,” Pete said and took a small sip at first, then followed that up with a much longer gulp. “Anyway, this fog came up, and then a wagon emerged from the mist and started rolling down the road. It was one of them covered wagons, you know the ones, like the tinkers use when gettin’ around.

“Now this is gonna sound crazy. But that wagon wasn’t on the road before the mist rose. We’d scouted and the only thing heading our way was a spice merchant hauling three carts. That wagon shouldn’t have been there.” He took another sip from the flask. “So here we were, ready for action, and there was only a handful of people ridin’ it. All of them wearin’ fancy-coloured silks with lots of shiny jewellery. Poor bastards never knew what hit ‘em.

“I found you when I searched the wagon,” Pete said meeting Xalen’s eyes for the first time since starting his story. “You were all wrapped up in swaddling and still asleep despite the slaughter.”

Pete paused, eyes fixed on some far away place, Xalen’s flask clutched to his chest.

“The others wanted to kill you,” he continued. “But I couldn’t do it. Don’t know why, you wouldn’t have been the first kid I’d killed but for some reason I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Pete sat there silently for a long while, a haunted look on his craggy face. Xalen knew his foster father well enough to recognise the pain he must be feeling in remembering this, so he stayed silent.

“I left my crew that night,” Pete said after a time. “Took you and headed north to Neverwinter and never saw any of those bastards again.”

“And the items you found on me?” Xalen queried.

“Oh, that bits just like I told you,” Pete replied. “All that stuff was wrapped up with you in your swaddling.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth from the beginning?” Xalen asked. “I would have understood.”

Pete ran his fingers through his wispy beard. “Truth is, I’m not even sure why I’m telling you now. I promised myself I’d take that secret to the grave but here I am spilling my guts.”

“This mist you told me about,” Xalen said. “Do you know anything more about it?”

Pete shook his head. “Nope, but I’ve never seen the like. Not before, nor since. It just seemed to form out of nothing. One minute it was a clear warmish night, and the next it was so thick you could barely see ten feet.”

“Have you heard of a place called Barovia?” Xalen asked.

Pete shrugged. “Nope. Where is it?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” Xalen said. “But it looks like I’m going to need to find someone who does.”

---

Back at the apartment, Ebyn’s wooden box clicked open for only the second time since he’d had it. The wizard took it out and found another piece of paper in there. He took out the new slip of paper and unfolded it to read the words written there: “Slippery Pete stole Xalen from those tasked with his protection.”

Ebyn put the paper back inside the box, then went to Seknafret’s apartment and knocked on the door.

She answered it a moment later. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Do you know where Xalen is right now?” Ebyn asked.

“He said something about getting in touch with his foster father, why?”

Ebyn’s hand dropped to the pouch where he kept the box. “There’s something going on with us and I think we need to talk about it,” he said.

Seknafret could see the look of concern on Ebyn’s face. “What is it? Should we get Brabara?”

Ebyn shook his head. “I doubt this is something Brabara would have much insight toward. The two of us should be able to hash it out, at least to begin with.”

“Okay, come inside,” Seknafret stood aside to let Ebyn pass. “You can take a seat anywhere; I haven’t managed to get around to acquiring furniture yet.”

Ebyn chuckled. “I can relate. In fact, I’m not even sure how long I will stay here. Neverwinter wasn’t a place I imagined I’d ever call home, and now, with this, it’s just made me think about what the future has in store for us.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

Ebyn took out the box and placed it on the floor between them. “This box was given to me by Provost Loris, of Candlekeep,” Ebyn began. “He asked me to keep it with me on my journey, suggesting it could prove useful.”

“And has it?” Seknafret asked.

Ebyn shook his head. “No. In fact, until a few days ago, I wasn’t even able to open it.”

“But now you can?”

“Yes, and it now appears to open itself whenever one of us becomes privy to a secret.”

Seknafret adjusted her position on the floor so she could lean forward. “I don’t follow you.”

“The box first opened when the ghost, Newmey, told us that she never enjoyed working with the Dolindar family,” Ebyn explained. “She stated that she had never shared that information with anyone, yet once she had, the box clicked open and inside was a slip of paper with that very secret written upon it.”

Seknafret scratched at the back of her neck. “I remember. What does this have to do with Xalen?”

“The box opened again just now,” Ebyn said. “And like before, there was a piece of paper with another scrap of information. This one regarding Slippery Pete, and how he stole Xalen from his protectors.”

“Protectors?” Seknafret gasped. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure, but that is not what’s important right now.”

Seknafret’s brow furrowed. “It’s not?”

“No. The box is somehow storing secrets, things that people haven’t shared with anyone before and now tell us. You said Xalen was meeting with Pete, and I believe that Pete told Xalen what happened when he was a babe.”

“Why would the box be storing such things? Did Loris tell you what the box was for? Or how to use it?”

Ebyn shook his head. “He said nothing beyond urging that I keep it with me.”

“Hmm,” Seknafret mused. “Perhaps we should try and find this Loris fellow and see if he has anything more to say about it.”

“I agree,” Ebyn said. “But I have a theory as to why the box has started working this way. Recall the vision we had of Vecna as we were transported to Evernight, and of his cults tasked with extracting secrets from people across the multiverse.”

Seknafret shuddered. “It’s a difficult image to forget.”

“I believe that when we disrupted the ritual, we somehow became tainted by that magic. So now, when people share a secret with us, the box collects them.”

“To what end?” Seknafret asked.

Ebyn shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Seknafret tapped her chin with a finger. “I wonder if there is a way to test this theory of yours, Ebyn. I am about to tell you something that I haven’t shared with anyone.”

“Very well,” Ebyn said and fixed his gaze on the closed wooden box between them.

“My order is tasked with protecting what we call the Veil between worlds,” she began. “A magical barrier that has existed for millennia that keeps the world of the living separate from the world of the dead.”

Ebyn lifted his gaze to Seknafret, suddenly very interested in what she was saying.

“The magic that underpins this barrier must be bolstered every few years. My order is responsible for performing the ritual of restoration that keeps the barrier in place. In recent years, this ritual has become less effective, so much so, that if we cannot find a solution the barrier will fail completely in just under a century.”

The box clicked open once more.

Ebyn picked it up and found a third slip of paper inside. He took that and read the words aloud. “The barrier between life and death is failing.”

Seknafret gasped. “Remarkable. I wonder what it all means.”

---

The group waited in that same antechamber where Lord Neverember had heard their report.

A carriage had been sent to collect them earlier that morning and drove them to the castle, where Foskar ushered them into the room without any of the pomp and ceremony of their previous visits.

Lord Neverember, along with Foskar, Scribe Lector, and Captain Kevori entered the room with several of the Lord’s Own Guards in tow.

Brabara started to rise at their entrance, but the Lord Protector waved her back down.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said as he took a seat at the empty table. “I know we are all busy people so I will get directly to the point. I have reviewed the evidence regarding Jerot Galgin. Based upon information given me by Captain Kevori, along with the answers extracted by the priests of the House of Knowledge, and testimony from the three citizens you rescued. I have concluded that Jerot Galgin did act in a manner unbecoming of a noble of this fair city.”

Brabara opened her mouth to say something but a sharp glance from Kevori stopped her.

“To that end,” Lord Neverember continued. “Captain Kevori and these guards will be sent to evict the Galgin family from their estate and reclaim his lands and titles. Foskar has prepared a writ vacating the sentence for Tiny Coldbush. A rider will be dispatched to Helm’s Hold to release him from custody. In addition, the city offers you, Lady Seknafret, a formal apology for what happened to your retinue because of Galgin’s machinations. Though, I know it can never restore what was taken from you that terrible night, a stipend will be provided for the maintenance and upkeep of your residence for as long as you choose to remain here.” Lord Neverember sat back in the seat and looked expectantly at each of them. “I trust that concludes this dark chapter to everyone’s satisfaction?”

“My lord,” Brabara said, heart pounding. “If you have no objection, I wish to travel with this messenger on the way to Helm’s Hold.”

Lord Neverember nodded. “I see no problem with that, sergeant. Be ready to depart at first light. I trust you have a horse?”

Brabara’s face reddened. “Um, no, sorry, I don’t.”

“I see,” Lord Neverember said. “Foskar, see that a suitable mount is provided for her.”

“Of course, my lord,” the chamberlain said.

“Actually, you know what,” Brabara said, blush deepening. “Perhaps I will wait here for Tiny to arrive. It will give me a chance to get our home ready.”

Lord Neverember got to his feet. “As you wish. Captain, please be about your duty. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have plenty of other business to get through.”

Ebyn cleared his throat. “Excuse me, my lord. You mentioned we might be able to review the answers Jerot’s corpse gave in response to the questions.”

“I did,” the Lord Protector said. “Scribe Lector has a full transcript he can deliver to your apartment.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Ebyn said. “And to you as well, scribe Lector.”

Lord Neverember took a moment to look at each of them. “This has been a terrible business,” he said with a touch of genuine sadness in his voice. “One of our noble families is disgraced, and more than a few of our fine citizens lost their lives to Galgin’s zealotry. I do hope that we can keep the details between us.” He fixed Xalen with a meaningful stare. “I know the guild likes to trade in information, but it simply wouldn’t do for news of this to become common knowledge.”

“Of course, my lord,” Xalen said.

“Well, let that be the end of it then,” he said and left the room.