“Well,” she said, “I was taking Merritt to show him Baraccus’s tools, like I said. We were passing nearby, and I hoped to run into you. I wanted to ask you if you had found the man who had murdered Isidore, the spiritist.”

“Oh, the spiritist.” The general frowned. “No. We’ve not been able to find anything at all. Even more disturbing, she is not the only one to be murdered in such a horrific fashion.”

Magda let out a disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that the killer is still on the loose in the Keep. I was hoping he would have been caught by now.”

The general nodded grimily. “A number of wizards working in the lower parts of the Keep, and even a few a bit higher up, have been murdered.”

“Murdered. By ‘murdered,’ do you mean . . . murdered like Isidore was murdered? In that same fashion?”

“That’s right. Ripped apart. They aren’t the only ones. I’ve had two patrols killed as well.”

Surprised, Magda leaned in a little. “Patrols? You mean soldiers? Armed soldiers?”

He folded his meaty arms. “That’s right. One of the patrols had three men, then several days later a patrol of four men was also attacked and killed. They were torn apart. Blood, guts, and brains everywhere in the hallway where their remains were found. We didn’t even know which body parts went with which men. We couldn’t even identify the remains, and only determined who they were when we took a head count.”

“Dear spirits,” she whispered. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear about this. And you have no suspects?”

“None. None at all.” His gaze had turned abruptly penetrating and uncomfortable. “And you say the man who did it, the man you saw kill Isidore, was a dead man?”

Magda shrugged, trying not to be argumentative. This was not the time or place. There were more important considerations.

“He looked dead to me. That’s all I can tell you. I suppose that maybe he was just disheveled and filthy. Maybe he used magic. Maybe that’s why he appeared so strong and could do what he did.”

“Ah.” The general nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”

“It’s quite frightening to hear that no one has been caught.”

He peered at Merritt for a moment and then again eyed Magda carefully. “Are you all right? You look . . . I don’t know, tired.”

“I am tired, I’m afraid. A lot has been going on in my life recently.”

His grin returned. “I understand.”

Magda could feel her renewed flash of anger heat her face.

“Well, I must be going. Merritt here wants to pick up his tools and be on his way. I probably should get some rest.”