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ranging from convenience to privacy. He would never admit in public that he still relied upon this mage-created technology to maintain his empire, of course, but that was all part of the grand illusion.
    Chaval stepped over to the stone and tapped one of the three plates inset along the bottom of the panel. An instant later the glowing crystal at the center twirled once, then expanded into a translucent projection of a human face. It was almost like staring at the disembodied head of a ghost.
    “Hello, Yurst,” Chaval said, his voice cool. “I assume by the look on your face something went wrong.”
    The ghostly head nodded. The stone’s projection left much to be desired in terms of accurately showing facial features, but it was still obvious that this man was terrified. Given what he had told Amaya earlier, he had every reason to be.
    “Yes, Mr. Chaval,” Yurst managed, visibly swallowing.
    Amaya watched her employer’s reaction carefully. So far he hadn’t even twitched, which was exactly the frosty demeanor she had come to expect while they were in private. It was a marked contrast to the warm, welcoming smile he wore everywhere else.
    “Do you have the book?”
    Yurst nodded. “Yes, sir. I have it right here.”
    “Good. So what’s the problem?”
    “The girl,” Yurst murmured. “She’s alive.”
    Chaval’s jaw tightened. The change was subtle; likely it wasn’t even a detail the projection would carry. And of course, Yurst wasn’t the type of man who was going to notice such a thing anyway. Amaya, on the other hand, had spent most of her life learning how to read people, and she could already see the fury smoldering behind Chaval’s eyes.
    “What about the mother?”
    “Dead,” Yurst told him. “The girl wasn’t home, and when she finally showed up she was never alone. I know you said you didn’t want any witnesses, but we found out she was leaving town and knew we had to do something. We decided to try and corner her at Radbury Station yesterday.”
    “Where evidently a group of armed men were unable to kill a nineteen year old girl who hasn’t even taken the Oath Rituals,” Chaval said, his voice lowering a few degrees. “I hope you have a convincing explanation.”
    The other man nodded. “We were ambushed, sir.”
    “How?”
    “The girl’s traveling with some shuvo, a kid about her age. He’s cagey, though. He figured out we were trying to flush them into an alley and made a break for it. The boys pursued, but…”
    “But what?”
    Yurst swallowed. “They’re dead, sir. All of them.”
    Chaval glanced to Amaya, then back to the stone. “How?”
    “It was just one man as far as I could tell,” Yurst said. “I caught a glimpse of him in the distance when I stumbled across the bodies, but he ran off before I could confront him.”
    “I see,” Chaval muttered. “You’re certain you didn’t just flee in terror?”
    The man was visibly trembling, but even without the telltale reaction it was obvious Chaval was right. The fool had probably bolted the moment he saw the corpses of his fellows…
    “I knew you wanted the book, sir,” Yurst added desperately. “I didn’t think I’d have a chance by myself, not with what happened to the others.”
    Chaval drew in a deep breath. “You made the right decision. The book is vital; the girl we can deal with later. But you said you saw the man who ambushed you. Describe him.”
    Yurst blinked a few times, probably trying to come to grips with the fact he had apparently been given a free pass on his incompetence. “It wasn’t a great look, sir, but he was tall and thin, almost gaunt, really. I didn’t see a face, but he had a tattered black coat and auburn-colored hair. Oh, and a red scarf, too, for some reason. It’s not even that cold yet. That’s all I could see.”
    “How did they die?”
    “Sir?”
    “Your comrades,” Chaval said impatiently. “A knife? A bullet? What?”
    “Nothing like that,” Yurst replied,