Liam entered Felix's wing for the second time in his life.
At least this time, it was with Arik and Mezos, not alone under the threat of his family being poisoned by the man who should have shielded them.
Now everything was under protection.
Ether seals crossed every door in hard blue lines. Detection wards sat along the skirting boards like silent insects. The transportation ward on the floor had been burned down to nothing but a pale circular scar in the marble, its old lines dead beneath newer suppression marks. Every corridor carried the clean, sharp scent of sterilized magic and fresh security work.
By the look of Mezos speaking quietly with a Shadow and an officer from Wrohan's royal guard, nothing had passed through those doors.
Not officially.
Liam had learned to hate that distinction.
