The Tyranny of Ghosts_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [107]
And yet there was something in the way it was all displayed that made her think uncomfortably of the trophies of battle, as if the rooms were a monument to conquest to come.
“Where do we look?” she asked softly.
Aruget scanned the room they stood in, then nodded toward a doorway. The room beyond was somewhat more functional than the first, with a broad table and shelves of books. A richly illuminated map of Khorvaire hung on one wall, innocent in itself—Baron Breven d’Deneith owned one very similar, Ashi knew—but again, she found the sight of it vaguely chilling. A chair had been positioned, its back to the room’s window, so that someone sitting in it could gaze upon the map. She could imagine Tariic sitting there with all of Khorvaire laid out before him.
“Here.” Aruget stood before a tall cabinet. Unlike the furniture in the other room, it wasn’t Eldeen work. The heavy doors were carved with mountain scenes while thick bands of bronze supported an elaborate latch and lock. Aruget wrinkled his nose. “House Kundarak made this. I wish we had Tenquis here. An artificer would be helpful.”
“You can’t unlock it?”
“I can unlock it—but locks probably aren’t the only thing protecting it.” Aruget dipped into the sash around his waist and produced a small silk packet from the folds. He unwrapped it, and glittering dust spilled into his palm. Blowing lightly, he sent the dust wafting over the cabinet.
It settled into gently glowing lines, a web of magic centered around the lock. “A ward,” said Aruget. He studied the lines, then drew out a twist of fine silver wire that he bent carefully into a wide hexagram. He warmed a small bit of wax between his fingers, pinched it in two and stuck it to the back of the wire. “Stand back,” he warned Ashi. She stepped away, and he gently set the bent wire around the cabinet’s lock, pressing the wax against the bronze so the hexagram would stay in place.
The glowing lines shimmered and faded.
“Good.” Moving quickly, Aruget set to work with his lockpicks again. It took longer to open the cabinet than it had to open the door of Tariic’s chambers, but when he was done, Aruget let out a hissing sigh of relief. He picked the silver wire away from the cabinet, flipped the latch, and pulled open the doors.
The interior of the cabinet was a series of drawers, large and small. Aruget went straight for the largest drawer, opening it to reveal rolled and folded papers. His fingers hovered over them for a moment, then he plucked out a roll about the length of his forearm, dirty and ragged edged. Ashi glanced into the drawer skeptically. There were other papers that were larger, brighter, and seemed more likely to be important.
Aruget caught her look. “If you’re looking for important information, look for what your mark handles most often. Chances are it’s something near and dear to them.” He held the paper up to the light and unrolled it. “Ah,” he said.
Ashi moved around him. The paper was a map of Darguun. The writing on it was in Goblin—and there was a lot of writing. Notes and scribbles, arrows and lines. The map had been used and reused many times, but Ashi recognized the essence of it quickly. Troop movements from Rhukaan Draal to the border of the Mournland, then back to Skullreave. Then across into Breland.
Just as Munta had suggested. She breathed a curse.
“It’s not enough,” said Aruget. “We need more.” He rolled the map up again and set it on the table. “Be careful with these. We need to put them back as close as possible to the way we found them, or Tariic will know someone has been here.”
“Won’t he know that when he finds out the magic on the door is gone?”
“It should reweave itself once the doors are closed again. I know what I’m doing.” He took more papers from the drawer, scanning each one, then discarding it on the table. Ashi caught glimpses of more maps, of lists, of