“I think I know him well enough for him to get me in there. I might be able to convince him to let you come along.”

He smiled briefly. It quickly faded. “Let’s hope they haven’t beheaded her already, and that she would be willing to talk to us.”

“We should do that first, then. Do you know anyone else you can trust?”

Merritt rubbed his jaw as he thought it over. “I know lots of trustworthy people but most haven’t sworn the oath to Lord Rahl, so as trustworthy as they might ordinarily be, we can’t trust that a dream walker isn’t watching through their eyes. A lot of people don’t take the threat seriously. That creates an opportunity the enemy can take advantage of.”

“Then we dare not take a chance with any of them.”

“I do know one person I trust, and he has sworn the oath.”

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“He’s assigned to guard the sliph. I trust him, and I know that he’s one of the gifted who believed in Baraccus. Since he is usually with the sliph, he sees a lot of important people coming and going. He also knows a great deal about the wizards at the Keep, who’s doing what, that sort of thing.”

“You mean Quinn?”

Merritt’s brow furrowed. “You know Quinn?”

Magda smiled. “I grew up with him. When I was younger, I would sometimes go for walks with him in the forests around Aydindril out to an isolated pond that was home to loons.”

“You were sweet on him?”

Magda could feel herself blushing. “No, nothing like that. I liked him, but we were just children. He was a couple years older, though, and that alone made him seem quite impressive. But Quinn was more interested in his journals.”

“Ah yes, Quinn’s journals. You certainly do know him, then.”

“He pored through books all the time. He loved to study the past. He used to tell me that history shaped people’s beliefs, and that one day he was going to be the Keep’s historian and write about all the goings-on.”

“He seems to be well on his way,” Merritt said as he lifted the baldric off the chair and slipped it over his head. He placed it over his right shoulder with the scabbard at his left hip. “He has quite the collection of journals that he keeps down there with him as he guards the sliph.”

“It keeps him busy,” Magda said. “It’s probably pretty boring being down there most of the time.”

Merritt picked up the sword and slid it into the beautifully tooled silver and gold scabbard at his left hip.

“Let’s go see if you can convince General Grundwall to take us down to the dungeon.”

“You take the Sword of Truth with you often?”