After lunch—or, more precisely, a meal of thin, bitter wheat porridge—Zadvi and Hauser settled the group on the highest, or rather most remote, level of the tunnels. It was not far from the nearest exit to the surface, yet far from the other local "residents." Gollor's violent intrusion had made them unwelcome.
Catherine lay asleep on her bedding after surgery. Zadvi stood beside her, praying in a low voice, while Rolf remained leaned against a corner, watching the scene with a complicated expression. Dorothy had set up the stove and cooking pot, while Aunt Jiadama stood with her hands on her hips, directing Woniak and Bobo as they puffed and panted over the remaining bedding. Gollor rummaged through a pile of old goods—or, more accurately, trash—in search of a weapon.
"That's everything you managed to pry out of her?"
Beside the stove, Shilai and Tales spoke in lowered voices. The former angrily interrogated the young man:
"A foolish nickname—Luosang the Second?"
Tales looked awkward.
She had passed out after the surgery. What could he do?
"There was more than that." The boy tried his best to salvage some dignity. "At least, we... What do you want to know?"
"Too much!"
Shilai spread her palm and tapped one finger after another:
"When did she last meet someone from the Iris Flower? What orders did she receive? What exactly did she do? What suspicious details were there? What happened to the Blood Bottle Gang? How did the Secret Section strike at them? What was Jann planning?..."
Tales' head throbbed from her barrage, but just then Srimani's voice rang out from across the room:
"Hey, Master Magician! Young Wyatt and Miss Wiana, have you decided? Where are we going next?"
Tales and Shilai both turned around, displeasure written across their faces.
Srimani was