In Shade and Shadow

guard you must follow this through. Faith as well as duty demand it.' He settled slowly into a chair. 'Drink your tea. You look tired.'

Tension faded as Rodian sat and took a long sip, the liquid's warmth flowing down his throat. He took another sip.

'Jason was with me that night—and Minister Taultian,' Âdweard said. 'As well as many others here in the temple. We first went to the Sea Bounty for an early supper, and then came here for a social to plan the next gathering. Later we went home.'

'How late?'

'Near the mid of night, the fourth bell. Much later than old Taultian could stand. He retired earlier, once ceremonial considerations were in order.'

Rodian settled back in his chair and couldn't stop a long exhale of relieved tension.

As with Selwyn Midton, Jason's alibi didn't exonerate him. He could've hired someone else to kill Elias. A father's witness would be suspect, but it was a start. Jason was accused of threatening a young sage, and crimes of passion weren't usually carried out by hired thugs.

'So,' Âdweard said, 'you now have my word, though you could certainly ask after others of the congregation.'

Rodian nodded and waved off the suggestion. Jason was far from a paragon of the congregation, and too sly for his own good. But Rodian didn't believe the son of Baron Twynam capable of such cold-blooded brutality. A petty whelp and a bully, but rarely would that kind go as far as murder.

'I'll need written statements from you both,' he said, 'and one from Minister Taultian. That should be enough, if any further pursuit of Jason arises. If I can solve this soon, the statements will be filed away without undue attention.'

Jason puffed a breath and turned aside, averting his indignant gaze.

'Thank you.' Âdweard sighed. 'Two young sages murdered. I cannot see why. What do you believe was the true motive?'

'A folio of scribed pages,' Rodian answered. 'Have you heard anything concerning a translation project at the guild?'

The baron frowned. 'Whispers concerning some old find… but no more. The royal family has no idea how deluded these sages and their ideas can be. If not for their public schools and pragmatic services, I couldn't see why the king continues to fund them.' He shook his head. 'If this project is the cause of deaths, perhaps someone in power will put a stop to it.'

Rodian blinked and stood up as his thoughts turned inward.

Perhaps the true motive wasn't acquiring the folios but destroying them? This hadn't occurred to him before. He'd considered only greed or desire for secret information.

Âdweard hadn't realized what he suggested and spoke only from an intellectual perspective. On second thought, Rodian considered the motive unlikely. Destroying the transcribed passages still left the originals and the sages' own notes intact at the guild.

'Can we take you to the Sea Bounty for a late lunch?' Âdweard suggested.

'Thank you, no,' Rodian replied. 'I have other duties at the barracks and should head back. Bring your statements to Lieutenant Garrogh before signing them.' He paused and turned. 'Jason… my apologies, but I am trying to protect you. Stay away from Elvina until all this is over. Remember that, or suffer for it.'

For once Jason's sullen demeanor broke, and he nodded. 'I was only thinking of Elvina's good name.'

Rodian kept his response to himself—no, you were thinking of yourself—but he believed Jason innocent of murder.

'I'll see you both at the next service.'

He stepped from the office, pausing long enough to pay homage at the altadive at thr, then left to find Snowbird. But Âdweard's words echoed in his head.

If this project is the cause of deaths, perhaps someone in power will put a stop to it.

Chapter 7

Wynn burst into her room, going straight for her desk table without shutting the door.

But she stopped halfway and glanced at her storage chest. Changing directions, she dropped to her knees and lifted its lid.

Several items from her travels rested inside, but she reached for one in particular: a special quill with a white metal tip. It had been a gift from one of the elven elders during her visit among the an'Cróan, Those of the Blood. Closing her eyes, she could still remember Gleann's kind face as he'd pushed the quill and sheets of parchment at her, so she could keep a record of her experiences and observations.

The notes she recorded had survived a great deal—including a shipwreck and the grueling mountain trek through the Pock Peaks. But since returning home, Wynn hadn't used this quill. With all her journals confiscated, she'd almost felt as if she would betray the memory of Gleann's kindness by using the quill here.

She picked it up now and closed the chest.

Hurrying to her desk, she gathered a bottle of ink and a blank journal. Rubbing her crystal harshly until it glowed, she mounted it in the tin clip holder inside her cold lamp. Arms loaded, she hurried out, the lantern clinking against the door as she shut it.

It had been a long while since she'd been filled with a sense of purpose. She barely noticed Miriam coming up as she hurried down the far stairs.

'Hello, Wynn.'

Wynn offered a quick smile and moved on. But when she cracked open the door at the stair's bottom, a double column of ten young initiates marched out of the gatehouse tunnel, straight toward the keep's main door.

Wynn pulled back and closed the door halfway.

A pair of apprentices, one in brown and the other in light blue, walked ahead of the initiates—a rather odd combination. Leading the procession was brown-robed Domin Ginjeriè. She was the youngest domin ever in the Order of Naturology. Obviously she'd taken a band of initiates for a field outing or perhaps some community service.

Right then Wynn had no wish to face anyone.

Thirteen sages passed through the keep's main doors.

And still Wynn waited. Giving them time to clear the entryway, she then raced quickly across the courtyard to the main building. Upon finding no one inside the doors, instead of turning left past the common hall, she went right down a long stone corridor. Passing the hospice, lower seminar chambers, and other rooms, she hooked left at the passage's end, intent upon reaching the spiral stairwell at the base of the east tower. Before she reached the antechamber's door, a smooth voice with a Suman accent floated from out of a seminar room across the passage

Wynn paused, stepping back to peek through the room's open door.

'The third element for practical consideration is Air,' Domin il'Sänke said.

The domin sat upon a stool before a half circle of small benches filled by a dozen or more young figures in robes. Not all the students were metaologers. Several wore the pale blue of sentiology, and a few others the teal of conomology or the brown of naturology. There were even three initiates, though it wasn't common practice for such to attend seminars on special topics. Wynn knew she shouldn't linger, but she stood fascinated, watching as il'Sänke raised both hands, palms up, and the sleeves of his dark blue robes slipped, exposing his slender wrists.

She'd forgotten that he'd offered to teach during his stay, though she hadn't known he would include seminars for students from any order. Normally metaology seminars were held on the second floor, but it seemed he'd obtained a more commonly used room.