“Oh yes, sacks of it. Baby teeth, too, in little jars.” She held out her hands to indicate the size. “Ghoulish stuff, and illegal, of course. Not that anything we do here is strictly legal, but there are crimes and there arecrimes. We burned as much of it as we could, as per the laws. That last box I suppose I didn’t get to—you can see no one has touched it in a while. Ah!” She spun around, brandishing a ribbon-bound packet of papers. “Edevane, you said?”
Patrick took them and untied the ribbon. The familiar scent of the Tower wafted from them: pigeon dander, dust, and boiling ink.
“Mother,” I whispered.
“I’m afraid so,” he said, flicking through them. “It looks like there was quite a bit of back-and-forth between your mother and Tamara’s predecessor. Months … no, years of letters here. And packages are mentioned …”
Tamara peered over his shoulder. “They were definitely working on something,” she said.
Before she could say more, there was a boom overhead, shaking a shower of dust free from the roof of the cave room, followed by a succession of creaking and cracking noises. Tamara, the little monk, and I stared upward in shock, but Patrick seemed almost to be expecting it.
“Whatisthat?” I asked.
“Ban Morin, I’ll lay a wager,” said Patrick. “He’s found us. And, if I’m not mistaken, that sounded like the end of a very nice pair of wrought iron gates.”
“Ban Morin?” said Tamara. “Who is that?”
“One of the high lords!” said the little monk, shaking in his sandals. “The one who attacked the Followers!”
“How do you know it’s him?” I said, staring at Patrick.
“The ravens,” he said briefly. “I knew he and his men were on the move, and they would find us sooner or later. I had just hoped it would be after we found something useful.” He brandished the little packet of letters. “And we did.”
“So the monastery is under attack?” said Tamara. She sighed, unrolling a length of hide with pockets and fastenings spread along its length, and started selecting tools from her desk, slotting them into their little compartments. “Typical. Just as I got settled.”
“What will we do? Where will we go?” cried the monk, now in full-blown panic. He grabbed Patrick’s arm. “My lord, you must let me come with you.”
“You’ll be all right down here,” said Patrick. He patted the little monk’s shoulder. “Just don’t go back up for a while.”
“They’re attacking amonastery?” he hissed. “The rules of sanctuary! And it’s full of holy men. They can’t …”
“They can, if the most powerful mage in Virelith is hiding in it,” said Patrick. “And if that lord believes that mage belongs to him.”
I stared at him. “The most …What?”
“If I am not mistaken, your defection has provided Ban Morin with a marvelous excuse to wage full-blown war on the Temple,” said Patrick. “He and his other noble cronies have been itching for such an opportunity for months. If they can argue that the monastery and, by extension, the Temple, are concealing property that rightfully belongs to a Margrave …”
“Property?”
He sighed. “In his eyes, my sweet.”
“But what do you mean, the most powerful mage?”
“We can talk more about it later, but in short: I believe so.”
“They’re after you specifically?” said Tamara. “Then, with all due respect, I would like you to get out of my workshop immediately.” She rolled her leather pouch closed and tied it to her belt, then picked up a crate of books.
“Absolutely,” said Patrick. “As quickly as possible.”
“Will you be all right?” I said to Tamara.
“Oh, yes. There are ways out of here, through the tunnel system. I’d rather you didn’t follow me, though.”
“There are plenty of tunnels for all of us,” said Patrick.
“Good luck,” Tamara said. The little monk had sat down with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest. He was rocking back and forth a little, looking up at the ceiling.
“You’ll be fine,” I told him. “They’re looking for me. They won’t hurt the monks. Will they?” I added, turning to Patrick.
