The northern tower overlooked its smaller sibling by two stories, capped by a flat pyramid-shaped roof and a metal spire in the shape of a dagger blade, pointed upwards. The entrance lay unguarded, an omission that caused Quin a tremor of disquiet as she followed Keir inside. Even though her sanctuary on Lyagnius was impregnable by normal means, the gateway room was always watched if she was away on her travels. The lack of security here seemed completely unnatural. All six upper levels of the tower housed private apartments for members of the Family, with the topmost set of rooms reserved for special guests. The stairs zigzagged up one side of the tower. Each level had a landing and a locked door for access. Keir paused at the third level with a haunted expression on his face, staring at the door as if expecting it to yield some vital secret to him. “What is it?” “I lived here, once. Before...” Quin brushed his shoulder in commiseration, recalling a fragment of the memory she had shared with him once, of a privileged childhood that had ended in torture and a life of exile.
