[See @graceintheshadows for part 2 and @lordaeronslost for part 1]
âWhat is taking so long?â
Wyn cut a look toward Tyr, frowning. âJust relax. They should be here soon.â
The medic glowered, his limp growing heavier with each step. Soon heâd have to actually use the cane in his hand instead of pretending it didnât exist. âI donât understand why it would take so long for you to get this information. Youâd think that itâd be routed through the Order and youâd be able to lay hands on it at the Hall.â
âBold of you to assume that the information youâre looking for is ready to sift down beyond the highest levels,â Wyn said, crossing her arms. âYou could have asked Sol to lay hands on this for you, you know.â
âNo one can find Sol right now, not even his wife.â Tyr stopped, squinting at her. âDo you know where he is?â
âYou think that Iâd have an idea if Kal doesnât?â She shook her head. âHeâd tell Radi before he told me.â Her eyes scanned over the sun-splashed expanse of the Exchange, looking for the expected courier. While her brother had his fingers tangled in the threads of part of their motherâs web, she had hers in othersâincluding a few well-placed in the Magistry. Still, it was a delicate dance, getting information from them, especially when one was looking for information that was being spoken of in whispers and rumors and exaggerations more than fact.
Part of her was more than half certain the details remained unknown. Another was already contemplating what the response might be, if even half the rumors that had begun to fly in the city were true. Who had been there when it happened? Who would be among the first wave to respondâif anyone at all?
What, exactly, were they about to face, how many of them would it take, and how many would not come home?
âSomething destroyed an entire city,â Tyr muttered, following her gaze out over the Exchange as he slumped against the wall beside her. âYou would think everyone would be on the highest alert.â
âPerhaps we just donât know enough about the circumstances yet.â She glanced toward him with a faintly furrowed brow. âDid you ever...?â
âNo,â he whispered. âNothingânothing solid enough for me to want to give it voice.â
âBut you wrote it down?â
He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. âYes.â
Wyn nodded in return and looked back out at the crowds milling along the Exchange, straightening from her lean as she caught a glimpse of the expected courier. âWait here.â
For a second, she thought he might protest, but after a second Tyr simply nodded, sagging a little more against the wall with a faint frown. She held his gaze for a moment before she slipped off into the crowds. The courier caught her eye a moment later and they both stopped in the shade of one of the Exchangeâs awnings.
âLady Iltyhrii,â the courier murmured.
Wyn inclined her head, turning a hand with a pair of gold crowns and something bundled in a bit of silk toward the courier, who took them in exchange for an envelope and a small trinket. âThank you.â
âAlways a pleasure, mâlady,â the courier murmured, lingering a few moments more before they stepped away and back into the crowd. For the span of a few heartbeats, Wyn lingered behind, watching people come and go before she started to make her way back to Tyr. The medic was frowning at something as she approached, his gazeâand thoughtsâseemingly elsewhere. It wasnât until she laid a hand on his arm that he startled back to himself, blinking.
âNever mind,â she said, brow furrowing. âWhat were you seeing?â
âNothing that made sense,â he admitted. âAt least not yet. Did you...?â
She nodded. âYes. Come on.â She started walking, trusting him to follow as she wended her way toward an old hole-in-the-wall theyâd frequented in another life, back when both had been playing pretend at being anything other than what they really wereâor perhaps discovering who they were really meant to be. Tyr fell in behind her, silent, frowning.
âWhere are weâ?â he stopped himself and shook his head. âWhy there?â
âBecause at least there Iâll have a chance to get in front of you if you decide to go off fully cocked about something,â she muttered. âAnd we wonât be reading this in the middle of the Exchange.â
âNo, weâll be tucked away in the Row where we both know that youâre like to become a walking target in that armor.â
âNot where weâre going,â she muttered. âTake a breath, Tyr.â
âHow can I when...when weâre still not sure what happened, only that something did.â He kept close as she ducked down a narrow lane that twisted down toward the shadows of Murder Row. âWyn, please.â
She simply gave him a level look and opened a door mostly hidden behind a tail of cloth and some crates. âIn, Tyr. Weâll read it in the old corner and decide what to do about it.â
âSomebody destroyed Dalaran, Wyn,â he whispered as he passed her and ducked through the door, leaving her to follow. âAnd no one in the city seems to be doing anything about it.â
âLikely to prevent some kind of panic,â she said, shucking a gauntlet as she followed him down the narrow passage. It opened up behind a curtain and into a tiny tavern and inn, one remarkably clean and snug given its locale. Wyn flipped a coin to the barkeep and ushered her friend to a corner where theyâd spent more than a few hours in times now long gone. Wordless, Tyr dropped into an overstuffed chair, leaving her to perch on the edge of a low table as she slid her thumb beneath the envelopeâs plain seal. The sheaf of papers inside was thick, thick enough to make her heart stutter for a moment in her chest.
What had they gotten their hands on?
The first page was in the familiar scrawl of one of her motherâs oldest contacts, sketching what was known in broad strokes. She read it once, then again, then handed it to Tyr.
âAethas Sunreaver is among the missing, along with three dozen highly ranked mages,â she said, her voice grave as she started to thumb through the documentsâcasualty lists, carefully duplicated reports. âNo one has solid word on whatâs happenedâsome reports suggest he survived, others say he perished along with most of his host. At least one report suggests that the city was destroyed by some kind of void explosion.â
âVoid,â Tyr echoed. âWhat wouldâ?â
âI donât know,â she said, still thumbing through the rest of the pages. âBut I imagine that the reason why the city doesnât know anything is because theyâre waiting for final word on the archmage and whether or not heâs alive. And deciding what weâre going to do about it.â
âWill have opinions. I know. So will the Farstriders and the Order. One way or another, weâll figure out whatâs what.â Her lips thinned as she watched him reading over that first page. âWhoever it wasâthey more than certainly just wiped out at least half the Kirin Tor, Tyr. And who knows how much magical knowledge andââ she broke off, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Suddenly her thoughts went to Juden, whoâif not for pure happenstance and a lack of final decisions madeâmight have been there. Might have been among a generation of fledging mages devastated by whatever had just occurred.
Tyr grasped her hand and squeezed hard. âI know,â he whispered. âI tried, Wyn. I tried.â
âI know,â she echoed, squeezing back. âAll we can do isâis hope. At least for now.â
âI donât know,â she admitted. âWe have...we have other work. But who knows who theyâll call up. Who knows what the response will be.â
âYou think there will be one?â he asked, taking the rest of the papers from her and starting to thumb through them slowly. Heâd return them to her before they leftâshe knew that. âThat theyâll risk...?â
âI donât know what it will be, but there will be something,â she said softly. âOne way or another, weâre about to send people to war. I just donât know what it is yet.â
âNor I,â Tyr said, then sighed. âBut as you said. We have our own.â
âYes,â she whispered. âWe do.â