Adisa's office was on the fourteenth floor of a building three streets from the High Council chamber, and it looked exactly like what it was: the workspace of a woman who had declared war on chaos and was winning.
Every surface had a purpose. Every document had a place. The only personal item visible was a small framed certificate on the wall behind her desk — some kind of legal award, the lettering too far away to read — which she had positioned at a very precise angle that suggested she was aware of its existence and had made a deliberate decision about where to put it.
I respected Adisa enormously.
She was standing when we came in — me, Zevran, Tobias, and Otto, who had been told to wait outside, and who had therefore come inside immediately and was currently taking up space in the c
