As soon as Dax finished his speech, the official explained that it might not be possible to see Rijes Velk immediately. There were approvals that needed to be sought, schedules that needed to be consulted, et cetera. He literally said “et cetera,” which Marin didn’t think anyone ever did.
“We’ll wait,” Dax told the man, as if he had all the time in the world. He didn’t move toward the chairs, and so neither did Marin. She pressed her lips together hard so that the official wouldn’t guess how surprised and proud she was of Dax’s strength.
If only he’d stand up for himself with this much determination…
She didn’t move or change expression.
Unsettled, the man in gray darted his eyes to Marin then back to Dax—apparently, that wasn’t the response he’d expected. At last, he ducked out of the room through the sole door. It closed behind him with a heavy thud, louder than an ordinary door.
“Chances are they’ll make us wait awhile,” Dax told Marin in a soft voice. “It’s a common power play. Don’t show any irritation.”
How fun. “The sea doesn’t play games like this. If she wants you to go away, she just drowns you.” She stood next to him and first clasped her hands behind her like Dax, then decided it looked as if she were mocking him and let her arms dangle by her side, then felt self-conscious and crossed her arms.
“You look irritated,” Dax told her.
“Iamirritated, but not at you—you’re great. You were great, justnow,” Marin said. “Why won’t anyone tell uswhythey’re holding Rijes Velk?” Sure, she didn’t know what the head librarian may or may not have done to land here in this austere building, but the way the whole city felt on edge… She didn’t like any of it, and she wished again that they were out on the water, with the waves beneath them and the wind in their sails. She’d rather face another magic storm than whatever political or legal snarl lay on the other side of that door. “It feels less like justice and more like someone is trying to get rid of a mess by sweeping it belowdecks.”
“I think,” Dax said unhappily, looking at the closed door, “that may be exactly what they’re trying to do.”
Marin paced.
Dax whistled, stopped whistling, then whistled again.
Objectively not that long, but subjectively hours later, the door opened again, and a new and very harried-looking man scurried through. Like the other official, he wore gray, but she could tell that his was a finer fabric. It was embroidered with symbols that she assumed had official meaning, and he wore a stiff box-shaped hat on top of slicked-down hair. “I am Senira Erson, overseer of the Fourth Judicial Committee of Internal Affairs, at your service.”
Dax bowed his head. “Daxicend of the Music Conservatory of Alyssium at yours, and my colleague Mariner of Flicker. You read my letter of introduction from Grandmaster Vorac? It is imperative we be allowed to speak with Head Librarian Rijes Velk.”
Marin bowed her head like Dax had and said nothing.
“The letter was vague as to the reasoning,” Senira pried.
“The conservatory has an interest in her well-being, as well as the status of her case,” Dax said easily. “It’s my duty to ascertain that she is not in any distress or being treated unfairly.”
“Ah,” Senira said. “I assure you she is not.” He didn’t move.
Marin resisted the urge to shake him. Crossing her arms, sheglared at him. It occurred to her that this was a good dynamic: Dax being the nice one, and her looking as if she were a few seconds away from pummeling whomever was irritating her.
Patiently, Dax said, “I am under instruction to determine this for myself, with Captain Mariner as an impartial witness, on behalf of the conservatory.” He smiled as if to say this was all routine, he wasn’t concerned, and this request should, of course, be accommodated.
“I did not know the conservatory had ties to the Great Library.” Clearly uncomfortable, Senira glanced at Marin. She obligingly glowered harder. She was aware that crossing her arms showed off her muscles. If she’d thought it would help to growl, she would have.
“The arts have always had a singularity of purpose,” Dax said. He did not elaborate, and Marin had to press her lips together hard to keep from laughing. There was so much pompous arrogance in the air exuded by both men that she could nearly smell it like a perfume.
Senira Erson, overseer of the Fourth Judicial Committee of Internal Affairs, studied them for a very long moment, and Dax kept his gaze steady and mild. Marin maintained her glare.
At last, Senira said, “Honored to receive you. If you’ll come this way, please.”
He led them through the door and down a windowless gray hallway. Marin thought this whole place could be improved with some cheerful paint, but she guessed they wanted it stark and intimidating. It didn’t quite feel like a prison—it was too clean and too quiet for that—but it didn’t feel like a place where anyone could relax and not watch every single word they said. She was glad they’d left Ree with the boat. She didn’t think this place would understand or appreciate a shrub who loved sea shanties and asked questions with all the charming innocence of… well, an innocent.
They were led up stairs and then another set of stairs and then another, all windowless, spiraled stairwells designed to leave you dizzy and disoriented. Senira waited at the top, watching them, asif he expected them to be overwhelmed and panting. Marin didn’t give him the satisfaction, and she was proud to see neither did Dax. Another power play?Probably, but at least we didn’t lose.
He pulled out a ring of keys and opened the fourth door down another featureless gray hall. Inside, a woman in a simple burgundy robe stood. Rijes Velk.
“Visitors for you,” Senira said.
“Delightful,” Rijes said dryly. “More questions that I will not answer?”
“That’s up to you,” Senira said. “But these visitors come from the conservatory, not the provisional government.”
