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Council.’”
    His grin faded. “It was my best speech.”
    “Many still find it inspiring.”
    “I am glad to hear it, but that life is over. There’s no use baiting my appetite for it. I stay clear of Starhaven’s intrigue. As a researcher, I can’t be completely apolitical. But because of my past, the provost and his officers are happy to leave me out of most entanglements.”
    Amadi said nothing. The parchment on the table began to crinkle, likely from a breeze coming through the window.
    “But never mind me,” Shannon said. “How have you spent the past four decades? Studying diplomacy perhaps? Is that where this talk of my past comes from?”
    “My hood has a purple lining.”
    “A sentinel? Yes, you must be wonderful.”
    She cleared her throat importantly. “I command Astrophell’s lead sentinel expeditions. In fact, I led the delegation down here. I even have a personal secretary: a young Ixonian named Kale—only a lesser wizard, but bright and capable.”
    “Pardon the observation, but it seems odd that Astrophell should send sentinels to our convocation.”
    “The journey from the North was long. And heaven only knows why our order ever occupied this gargantuan stronghold out in the middle of nowhere. Granted, it makes a fine sight from the Westernmost Road—the highest tower spiring up from the mountainside to dwarf the peaks behind.”
    Shannon rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “But Amadi, why should Astrophell send sentinels with its delegation?”
    “The diplomats needed protection.”
    “I see.”
    “Shannon, is this room safe from prying ears?”
    He nodded. “Quite safe. Do you bring news from abroad?”
    “News from within.”
    Shannon leaned forward. “Go on.”
    Amadi shifted in her seat and half-whispered: “Murder in Starhaven.”
    Shannon’s heart began to strike. “Who?”
    “This is a sensitive issue, one that must be hidden until the convocation is over. The delegates must renew the treaties.”
    “I’m aware of that. Now will you tell me who has been killed?”
    “Bear with me, Magister. Five hours ago a janitorial gargoyle working beneath the Spindle Bridge discovered what he thought to be a dying woman.”
    “What he thought was a dying woman?”
    “She was already dead, but her body was still filling itself with a virulent Numinous misspell. The gargoyle, having secondary cognition, assumed she was still alive and took her to the deputy provost of libraries. She, in turn, reported to the provost, who related the information to me.”
    Shannon paused. “You said this woman fell from the Spindle?”
    “So it seems. What can you tell me of the bridge?”
    Shannon wondered how much information he should share. Amadi had leaped to the top of the sentinel ranks, and such a feat would be impossiblewithout the support of several factions that despised Shannon. He decided to share only common knowledge until he knew more.
    “You seem troubled,” Amadi said. “Is it odd that this woman was on the Spindle?”
    “Surpassingly odd,” he said at last. “According to the historians, the Chthonic people built the bridge not long after they finished Starhaven. But it leads nowhere. Spans nearly a mile of air only to run into a cliff. The Chthonics did cut beautiful designs into the rock. Just north of the bridge’s end is a foliate pattern—ivy leaves, I believe—and south is a hexagonal pattern.”
    “Any explanation for the carvings? Or the bridge itself?”
    Shannon shrugged. “Folktales about the Chthonics building a road to a paradise called Heaven Tree Valley. Supposedly when the Neosolar Empire began to massacre the Chthonics, their goddess led them to the Heaven Tree and dropped a mountain on the road. Some say the Spindle once led to that road.”
    “Any evidence to support such a tale?”
    “None. But every so often, the historians probe the mountainside with text, trying to open the way to the Heaven Tree. They’ve found only