“If you could fly out with one box,” Fenna Lowe asked, “which would it be?”
Barnaby looked toward the engineering folio.
Old leather. Familiar notation. A binding he’d recognized before he’d admitted recognizing it.
Then he looked at the people waiting for tenancy extracts beside the stairs.
“That isn’t the public question.”
“No,” Fenna said. “But I wanted to know you noticed.”
The lower archive smelled of dust disturbed by hurried feet. Clerks still retrieved records while Tamsin’s structural team inspected the floor.
Access to the obstructed chamber could be prepared. Releasing the old assembly might cause substantial movement beneath the foundations.
