“I have decided on nothing,” Dalan said. “With luck, Tristam may have a way to separate the Legacy from the ship’s core without harm, or Norra may have discovered something important. I merely try to prepare for the worst.”
They strode up the steps of Morgrave University and passed through the gates into a large courtyard. Small groups of students stood here and there amid the trees. All of them were talking anxiously among one another and watching the sky. Zed felt as if the heavy stone walls were watching him, pressing down around him. The ancient campus resonated an aura of importance. The courtyard was thick with the hushed silence that fills all houses of learning, even more muted today following the terrifying sights that had filled the sky.
“Remember, none of these people have any idea what just happened up there,” Dalan said as they continued. “Try to appear as confused and terrified as they are.”
Zed chuckled. That should be easy enough to pull off. After all that they had been through, he felt as confused and terrified as anybody else here.
As they approached the main library, a guard in a slate gray uniform approached them with one outstretched hand. He looked at Omax suspiciously, then turned to Dalan.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” he said. “The campus is closed to all visitors at the moment.”
“Closed?” Dalan asked, surprised.
The guard looked up, then back at Dalan. “Everyone has been advised to remain indoors,” the guard said.
“They’re not indoors,” Dalan said, gesturing at the students.
“They’re stupid, rebellious children,” the guard said, sighing. “No reasoning with them. Seriously, it’s not safe in the streets and I can’t let you in. Go back wherever you came from.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Dalan replied, looking nervously at the sky. “We arrived just as this strange crisis began, and have nowhere else to stay. We are guests of the university. You can’t possibly turn us back out into the street with rubble falling from the sky.”
Zed looked at Dalan blankly, wondering what the man was planning.
The guard folded his arms and gave Dalan a sidelong look. “I wasn’t aware of any arriving guests,” he said.
Dalan looked at Zed insistently. “Did you remember to post ahead and tell them when we’d be here?”
Zed looked at Dalan.
Dalan sighed. “Did you?” he asked.
“What kind of question is that?” Zed snapped. He enjoyed the slightly annoyed look in Dalan’s eyes as he wondered if the inquisitive would play along. “Of course I did. I have the receipt here somewhere.” He began digging in the pockets of his coat.
“That shouldn’t be necessary, Zed,” Dalan said with a chuckle. He smiled and looked at the guard again. “There you have it. There’s no problem on our end. We told Master Ghein well in advance of our arrival.”
“Ghein?” the guard asked, looking mildly revolted. “Petra Ghein?”
Dalan nodded. “We had arranged with Master Ghein to conduct a series of lectures. Our appointment has been in place for months.”
“That explains it,” the guard said, rolling his eyes briefly. “Listen, Master Ghein isn’t exactly the keenest member of the faculty. If you wished to arrange a lecture, you really should have contacted one of the-”
“He seemed keen enough when I spoke to him,” Dalan interrupted, puffing out his chest as if the guard had personally insulted him. “He informed me that the headmasters were most eager to hear what the Wayfinder had to say. If you feel differently, then perhaps we should take it up with your supervisors.”
“Listen, I never said …” The guard blinked. “Who is the Wayfinder?”
“Wayfinder Ijaac Bruenhail,” Dalan said, gesturing at Ijaac. The dwarf bowed, beaming proudly. “Famous archaeologist and explorer. One of the few men living to visit the Frostfell and return.”
The guard looked at Ijaac blankly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of him,” Dalan said.
“You saying you’ve never heard of me, boy?” Ijaac repeated dangerously. “I don’t have to take this kind of abuse. I’m a public figure! I’d wager I’m in a few of the textbooks these rugrats are carrying!” He stepped toward the guard, one hand tightening on the haft of his morningstar.
The guard glanced around the courtyard, looking for anyone else who could get him out of this. “My apologies, Master Bruenhail,” he said softly, hoping not to draw attention from any of the students. “Please don’t make a scene. I don’t know who made the mistake, but perhaps you should take it up with Master Ghein. I’m sure he can resolve everything.”
“Ah!” Dalan brightened. He placed one hand on Ijaac’s shoulder, pulling the dwarf back a step. “At last we make some progress. And where can we find Master Ghein?”
“This way,” the guard said, waving for them to follow.
“Are you sure he’ll be in his office today?” Zed asked.
“What do you mean?” the guard asked.
“All the trouble going on,” Zed said. “I wouldn’t be sitting around reading on a day like this. I’d want to go check on my family.”
“University rules are strict,” the guard said bitterly. “In times of crisis, the headmasters believe it is even more important that we continue traditions as usual. And Ghein doesn’t have any family that I know of. He’s a reclusive sort.”
Zed noticed that the guard walked very briskly as he led them on their way. He frequently looked back to make sure they hadn’t become separated. He finally arrived at a small office deep among the bookshelves and knocked on the door.
“Yes?” came a voice from inside.
“Some visitors to see you, Master Ghein,” the guard said.
“Thank you, good sir,” Dalan said to the guard. “You’ve been most helpful.”
The guard mumbled something unintelligible and fled into the maze of shelves without another word.
“He was eager to be rid of us,” Zed observed.
“I can’t imagine why,” Dalan said with a smug grin. He opened the office and stepped inside.
A small, middle-aged man in a dull gray robe sat behind a desk within the small office. He pulled off his spectacles and studied them calmly. His eyes widened when Omax entered.
“Master Ghein,” Dalan said. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Who are you?” the librarian demanded nervously. “If you work for Radcul, I already told him I don’t know anything.”
“Radcul?” Dalan asked. He was visibly annoyed to be thrown off track.
“Local crimelord and mercenary boss,” Zed explained. “Listen, Master Ghein, we don’t have anything to do with Baron Radcul and we don’t have a great deal of time. We’re the crew of the Mourning Dawn, and we’ve come looking for Norra Cais. She has information that we might need, and she told us you would know how to contact her.”
“The Mourning Dawn?” Petra asked. His face turned ashen. “I’m sorry … So sorry.”
“What is it?” Dalan demanded. “Why are you sorry?”
“Norra is dead,” he said. “She was found in her apartment several days ago. Her neck was broken. Radcul’s thugs have claimed responsibility. I know she owed them a great deal of money …”
“But you have your doubts,” Dalan said.
“Norra was too smart for Radcul,” Petra said. “I’m sure she could have avoided him forever. I’m sure he only claimed responsibility to save face.”
“So who killed her?” Omax asked.
“She was researching something,” Petra said. “I don’t know what it was, but I could tell it was important. She was scared. For Norra, that’s saying something. She was never scared of anything. It was the same thing that drove her to journey to the Frostfell.”
Zed frowned. “Damn,” he said with a sigh. “She never told you anything?”
Petra shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. His eyes glistened, and he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “I think she was trying to protect me from whatever ended up killing her.”
“Useless,” Dalan grumbled. “How entirely useless.” He turned and stormed out of the office. Ijaac and Omax followed, but Zed lingered behind.