She suspected at least one of Rasadda’s magi was involved in the murders, and when Ark had mentioned that the Black Wolves had worked for the Magisterium, her interest had only sharpened. Yet as the coach drew closer to the chapterhouse, black dread settled on her heart. Old memories, dark and rotten, fluttered in her mind, and her hands tightened beneath her soft gloves.She hated the magi, hated them more than she could ever say.The coach stopped before the chapterhouse, and Caina climbed out. She had chosen a formal green gown with a high collar, and a jacket with embroidered sleeves. It was not nearly as alluring as the dress she had worn to Romarion’s house, but that was by design. Romarion might have been a rogue, but at least he had been polite and charming. Caina doubted that Ephaeron and Kalastus would share his courtesy. The chapterhouse itself looked like a smaller version of the Imperial Basilica, though built of black Saddai marble. The sigil of the Magisterium, a pair of eyes looking from an open book, had been carved into the lintel.
