Noah looped the final stretch of rope around the butler's wrists and pulled it tight, fastening it in place.
He checked the knots, then stood and dusted his hands with satisfaction.
The butler lay on his side on the floor, still breathing, his bowtie now crooked from when Noah had carried him from where he'd slumped.
They were now in the man's room. The room was small and orderly, the bed was made, and there was a single unlit candle stub on the nightstand.
The room was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the lit torches outside the window.
The door was locked behind them. They were betting on the assumption that nobody in this house had any reason to come looking for the butler at this time of night.
Daisy stepped forward, knelt beside him, and placed her palm flat against his temple.
With an exhale, she dove into his mind.
The first thing that met her was recent. The memory was vivid, warm and entirely unhelpful.
