The shutter on the high window was slightly ajar. It was pitch dark outside, and no light shone through the tiny crevice. But there definitely was a crack, and a feeling of coolness—not quite a breeze—that seeped into the corridor and cut through the hallway’s musty air.

Tristam rubbed his eyes. His newest theory about the Assassins Guild was making him paranoid. Not every open window was left by a spy. Most likely the maids had opened the shutter to air out the corridor and forgotten to close it. He shook his head and continued toward his quarters, only to stop a few steps later. How often was it, really, that the maids opened these windows? He circled back.

As Tristam passed by Malikel’s room, he saw a faint light under the door. Again, he stopped, unable to shake the feeling that something was off. Had the light been there a few moments ago? Tristam bent his head and listened. He heard some footsteps through the door and knocked quietly. The doorknob turned, and Malikel peered out.

“Tristam.” The older man was still wearing his dressing gown and had the disoriented expression of someone who had just woken up. “What brings you by at this late hour?”

Tristam paused, somewhat embarrassed to share his vague suspicions. “I don’t really know. Something didn’t feel right. Why are you awake?”

Malikel gave a quick, focused nod. “A noise may have awoken me.” He motioned Tristam in. “As you said, something didn’t feel right.”

Tristam entered Malikel’s quarters, scanning the area for anything out of place. The fire was out, but that was to be expected at this hour. “One of the high windows was open in the hallway,” he told Malikel. “It’s a small thing, but—” He stopped short. “Do you usually leave your herbs out like that?”

Malikel picked up the herbs off his dresser. “No,” he said, his face drawn. “I keep them in the drawer, and certainly not open like this.”

There was a sound from the sitting room, like wood scraping on wood. Tristam reached for the dagger at his belt and fought the urge to swear when he realized he didn’t have it.

“Tristam.” Malikel took two short swords from a chest and handed one to Tristam. Tristam nodded his thanks and inched toward the door, barely breathing. He could see nothing unusual through the open doorway. Checking to make sure Malikel was behind him, he readied his weapon and stepped in.

The room was empty, but one set of shutters was half open.