9: A Murderer’s Hands Kihrin stopped. “Do you think there’s a kettle around here? I’d love some tea.” Thurvishar stared at him. Kihrin grinned. It’s a bad habit I picked up from Janel. Anyway, it’s not like you don’t know what happened. You were there too.” Thurvishar rolled his eyes and then pointed to the end of the cluttered room. “I believe I saw a kettle on that other workbench–honestly, I have no idea how anything was ever accomplished in this mess. You’d think a wizard of his caliber would at least be organized. I suppose he must have just known where everything was.” Thurvishar started to continue, but then set his papers aside. “We should skip the rest of Serena, Talea, and Xivan’s story for now. “ Kihrin frowned. “You’re not going to finish?” “Oh, I’ll pick up again later, but in between this and when we become involved, it’s more of the same, really.” Thurvishar grimaced at his notes although the paper itself was somehow culpable. “They traveled through at least ten more city-states. Always the same story–arriving in town one step behind Suless. I believe it’s a tale that would probably grow stale with repetition.” “Oh, sure….