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Isaac clicked his beak against the page.
"Here. Someone pried it open and wedged a new sheet in."
I bent closer, studying the parchment carefully, knowing that what one saw depended less on the object itself and more on the observer.
Whatever those red crow's eyes had caught, I couldn't.
Isaac, used to my blank looks, explained, "It was soaked deliberately, then dried deliberately. The wrinkles are different from natural aging. The more I stare at it, the more certain I am."
Rubia glanced at me, then turned to Christina at her side.
"Would you mind keeping watch at the door? Just in case."
"Right… now?"
"Yes."
"But…"
"He's the one who sent you to me in the first place, right? No one would guard me better."
A flicker of conflict passed across Christina's face, then she gave a short nod and stepped outside.
Startled by the sudden dismissal, I looked to Rubia.
She only smiled, and her voice brushed against my mind. "This… is how you do it, right?"
"How do you know that?" I asked aloud.
"Because I… remem...
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