"I hope Vatz gets himself back here before nightfall or stays in with his uncle. Ratboy and his little horde have seen him. It's not going to be safe out there, especially near the inn."

"How many are you hunting?" Wynn asked.

"At least four," Magiere said thoughtfully. "Assuming Sapphire wasn't destroyed. There were two in Leesil's room, and one of them we know. He escaped us in Miiska. I took down the second one entering my room, but not the first. He is a more serious problem."

Wynn set down a handful of parchments, attentive as Magiere shifted upon the stool and continued.

"He's a mage, or some such, and ignited his dead companion's body from across the room. The place burned down and left me with no proof-no head-to show the council."

Wynn's nose wrinkled. Magiere had related some of this the previous night, but without mention of a headless corpse.

"That last one was dressed as a noble," Magiere went on. "With a cloak and black gloves. I've never seen him before, but he could be the one we are after… who murdered Chesna, and possibly Au'shiyn."

Wynn lifted a teapot from a side table and poured two steaming mugs, dropping a tiny green leaf into each. She handed one to Magiere. It smelled slightly of mint.

"I will arrange food shortly," Wynn said. "Tell me what this nobleman looked like. I've seen many of the council and their staff on royal grounds."

"Tall, well built, not much older than me," Magiere said. "Handsome, I suppose, with hair to about the chin and tucked behind his ears. Good with a sword but…"

Magiere hung on the thought for a moment, but still could not understand what had happened in the room with the nobleman.

"When I fight one of their kind, at times I pick up impressions-feelings, intentions, or occasionally a name or identity. There were strange flashes from him, as if he wanted to bleed me slowly, toy with me rather than kill me. And then everything wiped away, and I felt nothing from him."

Wynn's head tilted; then she shook it. "Your description does not match anyone I have seen on the council or at their hall."

Magiere shook her head as well. "I'm not certain of his voice, as I didn't hear much of it."

"You've heard the killer's voice?" Wynn asked in surprise.

"A few words… in a vision. Which means we may be looking for five."

The mention of visions gave Wynn pause, though she did not seem surprised, which in turn made Magiere wonder.

"I will return in a moment with food," Wynn said quietly, and left the room.

She returned shortly with a wooden tray carrying three bowls of steaming soup made from yellow beans, potatoes, and assorted vegetables. She passed one each to Magiere and Leesil, set the third upon the floor before Chap, and gestured to the crates around them.

"Perhaps these will help us," she said. "They contain records, some of which are for dwellings purchased in the half year. It is further back than you asked for, and not all are deeds and bills of sale, but I wanted to be thorough. The one you call Sapphire, or some of the others, could have existed in the city before the death of Lanjov's daughter."

"Where do we start?" Magiere asked.

Wynn looked at her. "You wish to sift through records?"

Leesil pulled off the top of a crate, fingering through its contents.

"Chap needs more rest, so there's little else to do," Magiere explained.

At these words, Chap growled and loped toward the door, but he stumbled three times, halting in frustration.

"Get back here. You can't hunt like that," Leesil said without looking up. He piled parchments and a few scroll cases onto a table. "We're looking for a three-story dwelling; that's what Sapphire told me. Knowing Rashed's past arrangements, if Sapphire is with Ratboy, the little butcher will want underground access. Sing out if you find any cellars in the descriptions."

Magiere knew he was speculating, but it made sense.

"Oh," Wynn added, "And if Magiere's theory of a connection to Lanjov is correct, be sure to check any deed you find against the names of the council members."

Chap growled again.

"What's wrong with him?" Magiere asked.

"He'd rather be hunting." Leesil scowled, and then his expression became troubled at some thought. His voice became hesitant. "I lost my shirt."

Magiere shook her head. Since he now resembled a refugee soldier, his lost shirt was rather obvious. "We'll get you another one."

"No, I mean, I lost my shirt. The shreds of cloth from Chesna and Au'shiyn and Sapphire's dress were inside it. Chap may not be able to track without them."

"Oh, Leesil…" Magiere sighed, and sank back down on a crate. Another setback wasn't what they needed. "There's nothing you could've done. We barely got out of the fire with most of our belongings."

Wynn shuffled and organized parchments into new stacks, separating what appeared to be recent deeds from older ones and other papers they didn't need.

"It does not matter," she offered. "You told me Chap can smell the presence of an undead. All we need do is find the right dwelling and bring him near it."

The young sage was right, and Magiere opened another crate.

"Start with the properties purchased in richer districts about three months ago," she instructed. "Or at least what sold for a substantial sum."

Wynn nodded and continued sorting, while Leesil stopped to stir his soup with a spoon.

Chap limped back, ignoring the bowl on the floor, and, without warning, reared up to place both paws on Wynn's table. He sniffed at the parchment stacks, and then suddenly began clawing sheets off the table as he pushed his nose deeper in the piles.

"What is wrong with him?" Wynn asked, voice rising above its normal calm.

She grabbed at papers as they flew or were knocked from the table. Magiere dropped the stack she held, about to go after the hound and the parchments spilling everywhere around the table. Leesil reached out first, setting his bowl aside.

"Get down. Stop that."

Chap turned his head and snarled at Leesil, partially baring his teeth. His growl faded to a low, continuous rumble. Instead of dropping down, he shoved his muzzle into another stack, knocking half of it across the table. Wynn made a quick grab for the teapot before it toppled.

"Chap, please!" she said in frustration.

Just once the hound glanced at Wynn with an extra rumble.

"All right, that's enough," Magiere snapped.

Wynn sat back in fright, but watched as Chap continued digging through the parchments. "Wait," she whispered. She hesitated a moment longer, and then she whispered again, this time to the hound. "a'Creohk, mathajme."

Chap froze, almost appearing startled, and looked up at her.

Magiere stepped closer. "What did you say to him?"

Everyone's attention was now fixed on Chap, ignoring even the disarray he'd created. The hound lowered his head as if aware he was the center of attention. Muzzle on the table, he glared at the young sage with a low grumble in his throat.

Wynn's breaths were quick and shallow as she stared back at the dog. "a'Creohk, mathajme," she repeated.

Chap dropped down, rumbling still in his throat, and belly-crawled under a nearby table.

As suddenly as Chap had attacked the parchments on the desk, Wynn bolted across the room and began rummaging though the contents of other tables. She didn't seem to find what she was after and turned instead to the room's rear shelves.

"What are you doing?" Leesil insisted. "Just what is going on here?"

"He understood me." Wynn gasped. Shoving books roughly aside, she dumped small boxes out on the table and sifted quickly through their contents.

"So he understands Elvish," Leesil said in confusion. "My mother gave him to me and likely got him from her own people. He's heard it before."