Then he turned to Lena and Mags. “And you two,” he said, his expression grim, “You had better come with me.”

Lena was crying, though it was not from anything that Herald Caelen had said to her. It was because she, like Mags, had suddenly realized that the reason Mags had not been able to “find” Bear was—because Bear was dead.

But Mags was not ready to believe that. He had always known when Death touched anyone in or around the mine, even people he knew almost nothing about, like the house-servants. There was an absence when someone died that hit him when it happened, and left a lingering feeling of void for at least several days. The last time anyone had seen Bear was yesterday morning, and Mags was sure he would have known if Bear was dead.

Caelen sat them both down in a corner of his office and gave Lena a big handkerchief to sob into. Mags listened with half an ear as he gave orders for the search, occasionally turning to Mags to ask a question about whether Bear had ever gone to this or that place, and if he had, what had taken him there. Mags answered as best he could, but meanwhile, his mind was racing.

Then he heard it. “—no, don’t bother with the Guard Archives. The Archivist left it locked up the first night of the storm.”

“No!” he shouted, leaping to his feet, startling everyone. “No, don’ you see, tha’s it! Th’ Archives! Bear wanted somethin’ in there, somethin’ he didn’ want the rest of us t’ know about! Now they’re locked up tight, an who’d go there now anyway? ’S perfect time t’ go lookin’!”

Caelen stared at him. “And—if he had an accident in there, if a box fell on him and knocked him out—”

“Even if it didn’, ye cain’t hear in there nor be heard outside, all them papers just muffle everythin’.” Mags’ heart was in his mouth now. “An’ it ain’t heated. Ye lay there, hurt . . . the cold . . .”

“Lena!” Caelen barked, startling her so that she dropped the handkerchief. “Round up whoever you can, but make sure you get me a Healer among them. Mags, let’s go! In this cold—”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence.

He snatched up his cloak; Mags shrugged his coat back on. Both of them made for the stairs and the outside door at a run.

And this was where things got . . . interesting. Because there was no direct route to the Archives. Instead, they had to run to and through Bardic, then Old Bardic, then Healers’, then the Guard barracks, because that was how the paths had been cut. On the plus side, they managed to scoop up four Guardsmen on their way through the barracks. On the minus side . . . there was no path cut to the Archives.