Tradeen walked into the chamber to find Master Veran muttering, and wringing his hands and eased the door closed. She didn’t need speculation covering their discovery.

I could not believe that Raydan, a Master of History, sat calmly among his books with his feet up as the city shook to its foundation. “Raydan!”

Trenon jerked his gaze from the depths certain he’d misheard Nurdeen. “Excuse me?” he asked.

Mirsten, Lord of the Flames, paced his Great Hall. Glowering at the entry, he twisted his staff between his hands. The gloomfell doors remained stubbornly closed. Stopping, he banged his staff and sent a boom echoing through the chamber.