Moses kept his hand near the place where the Black Basin had been marked a breath ago.
The map had already folded itself back into its smaller form, metal plates sliding inward with a faint rasp before the artifact returned to the size of a thick disk. Even without the projection, the image lingered in the room. The broken basin. The claw marks. The trails. The place where monsters had learned to avoid their own territory.
Moses looked at Valttair and asked, "Do you have a new mission for me, Lord Valttair?"
Valttair did not answer at once.
He remained before the stone table, one hand resting against its edge, his pale eyes fixed on nothing visible. The chamber held its breath around him, though neither Caelum nor Moses was foolish enough to disturb his thinking. Valttair had heard the report. He had taken every piece, weighed it, and placed it somewhere only he could see.
At last, he spoke.
"No."
