The portfolio lay on the kitchen table like a sleeping snake.

At 7:14 a.m., Harold Draven stared at it (leather cracked with age, brass clasp cold as a gravestone). The cottage was quiet (too quiet). Reed and Laken had gone to the foundry to run diagnostics on the MDFG array. Luca and Wade were at the Magical Ethics Commission, filing final reports. Cassiopeia and Marcus were at the harbor, overseeing the cleanup of the last green-fire residue. Eliza was in the garden, tending ...