The archive required water before it required witnesses.
Nether-Bane discovered this when the living custodian asked him to move off the space reserved for the tray.
A clerk had offered the table beside the other instruments. The custodian inspected its light, its dry surface, and the people likely to lean over it, then declined.
Iris requested privacy for the first consent discussion.
The clerk fetched a screen.
Nether-Bane stepped aside while the old root stock was placed in its prepared support. The traveling case bore water stains along one edge. Its custodians had brought it through ordinary weather and ordinary delays, keeping the living part alive while Bellwater waited to find out what it knew.
Felix stood by the door and wisely said nothing.
“A tyrant since we left the quay,” Nether-Bane said, looking at the plant.
