The upper east ward had a cleaner air than where they had left the markets, but it wasn't a calmer world.
Buildings were older, people walked slower, voices trailed off more often. By the time Lucian, Istra and Sera came to the archive house, Lucian had already counted three tails in the dark between the levels and lost the last two during the climb.
It didn't look like a temple or a court. It looked like a stone hall with a sealed entrance. Narrow windows, thick door that could hold more than simple weather and another pale plate besides it with no identifying markings of welcome. Istra set her hand against the plate. 'If they refuse us here, we leave now. No argument on the threshold.'
Sera frowned over her shoulder. 'And if they take us in?'
'Then we take what we came for and get out whilst we have better chances of not becoming scenery for stronger parties,' Istra answered
