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have been a diplomat, Paladin. You actually managed to say that with a straight face. I was hardly surprised to hear he’d gotten himself killed; I’ve been expecting that news for years. In our line of work, talent can get you into trouble, but arrogance will get you killed and eaten—and not always in that order.”
    I nodded toward the warded cell. “Those four and their buddies were after something and they thought Professor Berel had it. He said he didn’t. Any idea what it was?”
    “Not a clue. Laurian kept a lot of bizarre artifacts around.
    We all do. Certain objects have power against demons. Everybody in the department has their own collection and their own favorites. It’s safer to have your own when you need it. Chances are if you need it, you don’t have the time to go borrowing.”
    Mychael lowered his voice. “He was killed by a Volghul.”
    Sora’s only reaction was a raised eyebrow. “Nothing he had would have saved him from that. Apparently when the demons didn’t get what they wanted from Laurian, they went to his town house. The place has been demolished from the inside out, like somebody got really frustrated.”
    “Frustrated demonic searchers?” I asked.
    “The brimstone smell gave it away.” Sora squinted through the thickly warded cell. “Is that a wine bottle?”
    “The Volghul is in there,” Mychael told her.
    Sora whistled. “In a wine bottle? Damn. Who stuffed it in there?”
    I half raised my hand. “That would be me.”
    “You?”
    “Me. With a little help.”
    “That’s some help.”
    I tried not to wince. “Yes, it was.”
    “Good work.”
    “Thanks.”
    Mychael nodded toward the demons’ cell. “Do you have everything we need to question those?”
    Sora gave the knapsack slung over one shoulder a shake. I heard something metal clank heavily inside. “Never leave home without it.”
    “And traps for transporting them out of here?”
    “Got my two best grad students checking out a pair from the lab. They’ll be here any time now.”
    “Good. Let’s get started.”
     
     
    The demon’s enraged screams had subsided to low growls.
    Sora Niabi had wrangled it out of that cell and into a binding circle in an interrogation room. There was a ring of silver about three feet wide permanently embedded in the stone floor. Sora had added a thick silver chain on top of that. Both inside and outside the circle, she’d carefully placed objects I couldn’t identify, and judging from how the demon had reacted when Sora forced him inside, he knew perfectly well what they were, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near them. The professor knew her business. Good. Any interrogation room I’d ever seen was just a table, two chairs, no windows, and a barred iron door, with the obligatory big, burly, and heavily armed guard standing right outside.
    Of course they did things differently on Mid.
    There were still big and burly types outside the door, but that was where the similarities ended. Sure, these boys could stop an escapee with a fist or steel; they could also spit a spell that’d tack a miscreant to the nearest wall like a bug. The door and all four walls were kept warded. Nothing was leaving that room unless it was let go. Mychael and Sora had no intention of releasing that demon. Her grad students were stationed on either side of the door—on the inside. I didn’t know if Sora had asked them to stand by the door in case they needed to make a quick getaway, or if they were there to make sure the demon didn’t do the same. They honestly didn’t look old enough to fight acne, let alone a demon, but I guess when it came to battling demonic forces, brawn didn’t matter. Brains did—that and nerves of steel. From what I’d seen so far, Sora Niabi had both in spades. Before they’d gone in and locked the door behind them, those two kids had looked like they were still in training.
    Phaelan and I waited outside the door, about ten feet away and slightly off to one