This is what everyone was doing.
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**Fenn** was in the archive. He was always in the archive. He was writing — not the Hold's administrative record, something personal, in the small notebook he carried in his coat pocket. He'd been writing in it since Davan had held his hand for four minutes and eleven seconds. He didn't say what was in it. Cael didn't ask. Nara didn't ask. When it was done, she suspected, it would find its way to the right place.
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**Cael** was at his desk with the clipboard. The living administrative file for Davan Voss Ashveil had twenty-three entries now. He'd added entry twenty-three the morning after Davan named the Hold aloud: *Subject named the Hold's entrance court correctly and unprompted. She used the standard Kaelthorn designation. Her pronunciation was
