I've had a great deal of practice at concealing my emotions but even so I only marginally managed to keep the cocktail of anger, hurt, and shame. I was tired and worn out, I'd felt the terror of seeing Hadrian laying in his own blood, I'd worked psykannanic forces stronger and darker than anything I had ever touched, it was fair to say I didn't have a whole lot left in me.

"Fine," I aquieased unable to keep the fires of anger kindled.

"I need more than that," Hadrian pressed. I threw my hands up in defeat. It seemed bitterly unfair but there was no way out so I did the only thing I could. I straightened my back and stepped back from Hadrian.

"My Lord Inquisitor," I said formally, "I accept your censure, and I will not repeat my actions." Despite my best efforts, each word had a slight bite to the back end of it. I knew this made me seem petulant but I couldn't help myself.

"I was able to extract some information from the witness," I continued my voice clinicaly detached. Hadrian hadn't asked for it, being more concerned with how it was obtained but I had paid the price to obtain it and I couldn't let it go unused because of its source.

"Can it even be trusted?" Hadrian asked, sounding weary. I nodded my head. The ritual I had used compelled the shade to speak truly, though they could force an querant burn up time asking the question three times. A practitioner could only hold the shade while the salt burned. If the flames reached the center of the circle before the ritual was terminated, the practitioner would be 'opened to the beyond', a vauge section of the text which filled me with dread. I wondered if Jogar Carden had been hoping for that result with his talk of salvation.

"The assassin's name was Jogar Carden," I told him. "I don't know how helpful that will be, he may not have used his true name while he was working."

"He was working for something he called the Under Council."