At the far end of the room a set of double doors was outlined in some faint illumination, probably a night lamp. Alec waited to be certain the light was not moving—a lantern carried by some watchman—then stepped out into a long corridor. To his left he could see part of a receiving hall, the source of the light, and a corridor continuing on from there. The place was huge, and he sent up a silent plea to the Lightbringer that whatever there was to find was down here somewhere. This was a two-man job, though he wasn’t about to admit it to Seregil later. He didn’t have to prove himself again, he knew. He just had to prove to Seregil that he could let Alec out of his sight and not lose him again. He had no intention of getting caught.

The back of the house was taken up with the dining room, several sitting rooms decorated in different styles—none of which contained any sort of secret hiding place that he could find—a larger dining room, two garderobes, and the kitchen. From there a plain stairway led up to what was most likely the servants’ quarters. The corridor past the receiving hall led to a lavish ballroom.

In the receiving hall, a marble staircase led up to the part of the house he next needed to explore. He judged he’d already been at it for nearly an hour, and wondered fleetingly how Seregil was doing keeping Laneus and the others occupied.

Night lamps burned along the upstairs corridors, as well. Shoes set out for cleaning along the upper corridor showed him which rooms were occupied—five in all. Avoiding those rooms, he discovered a huge library and a large, mostly empty room that served for sword practice, judging by the various styles of blades in racks on the walls.

At the far end of the corridor he at last found what appeared to be a man’s study. It was rather small and by far the coziest room yet, with a pretty fireplace and a jumble of books, scrolls, and male bric-a-brac on the shelves that lined the room. It was tempting to take some small item as a present for Seregil, but he didn’t want to chance leaving the slightest sign of his visit.

The writing desk under the window overlooked the top of the garden wall and the side of the neighboring house. He took out his lightstone and fitted a leather cone around it to shield it from anyone happening in. Rifling the locked correspondence box first, he found a half-finished letter. As he read it his eyebrows arched in dismay.