Ari's POV

There were crates in the tunnels, one above another, and labelled with plainly marked symbols: grain, salt, iron. I overtook them all, and my eyes were open, and my senses were alert. Somewhere in this was the truth. I could feel it, vibrating my under-skin like a caution.

I paused in a cross passage which smelled odorous.

It was slight, but unmistakable: bitter herbs, metallic residue, poison.

My stomach tightened.

So, I said, and swung off the rut.

The tunnel terminated in a closed room. The way was blocked with thick iron bars etched with ward marks that were to keep others out--or in. I was on my...