The security man checked Haken’s signet, then handed my card back without a smile. “Took you long enough,” Haken said as he led me into the tunnels.

“Sorry. First time.”

“Fair enough. Just don’t go wandering off, okay?”

We turned into a wider corridor, smaller passages branching off. To my surprise, the tunnels actually felt a lot more spacious than Keeper headquarters. The tunnel ceiling was high, a good twenty feet or so, and the walls were made out of some strange kind of stone, light grey with tiny white flecks that gleamed in the light. The tunnels were electric-lit, bright spherical lamps set at regular intervals along the walls, and the corridor was filled with people, men and women hurrying back and forth. There was a bustling, serious feel to the movement, brisk and impersonal.

The corridor opened up into a huge hallway with an arched roof. Craning my neck and looking upwards, I saw that the ceiling was divided by gold buttresses, each supporting chandeliers that glowed with white light. Massive cylindrical pillars ran from the buttresses down to the floor. The floor itself was grey-white stone, inlaid with patterns that looked like ancient coats of arms, and made of some hard material that echoed with our footsteps. And there were a lot of footsteps; I could see at least thirty people, some crossing the wide-open space at the centre and others talking in the shadows of the pillars. Circular alcoves were situated along the walls, and corridors led off deeper into the War Rooms. There were wooden desks at the far end, and beyond them I saw three sets of guarded doors.

“Come on, Verus,” Haken said. I’d slowed down to stare. “You look like a tourist.”

I caught Haken up. “Okay, I have to admit, this is impressive.”

“This is the Belfry,” Haken said. As we crossed the floor, he pointed out the doors beyond the desks. “Far doors lead to the Star Chamber and the Conclave. The ones on the right go to the Courts of Justice. If you’re not Inner Circle, you aren’t allowed in without a pass, so go to the clerk on the right.”

We reached the far side and Haken spoke briefly with the woman behind one of the desks, then returned. “They’ve already started.”

“What’s started?” I asked as Haken headed towards one of the alcoves. “The indictment?”

“Yeah.”

“So . . . how does this whole indictment thing work again?”

The alcoves were arched and lined in gold; a circular table sat in the middle of a curved bench. Haken dropped into the seat and leant back. “The indictment’s a formal statement by the Council that someone’s committed a crime. No indictment, no arrest.”

I sat opposite. “I thought Keepers could make arrests on their own.”

“Yeah, but it’s not our authority—it’s delegated. We can do small stuff on our own account, but anything important has to be authorised by a Council jury.” Haken nodded towards the doors. “Rain—he’s the Keeper in charge of the case—he’s making an argument to a panel of judges. They say yes, we go out and arrest whoever’s name’s on the paper. They say no, we go back to the office and find something else to do.”