Page 116 of Mercy Written in Blood

"She wasn't certain."

Haruki returned to the photographs. A family. A sect. An organisation. Whatever the symbol represented, it had been important enough to mark coins, official seals and personal manuscripts alike — which meant it had not belonged only to the chamber. It had belonged to whoever built it.

"How old?" he asked.

Reina slid another sheet across the table.

"Carbon dating isn't complete."

"Estimate."

"Some timber appears over eight hundred years old."

Haruki looked up sharply.

"And the coins?"

"Potentially older."

"How much older?"

"They're arguing."

"Who?"

"Historians."

"That narrows it down."

"One specialist believes late Heian."

"Twelfth century."

"Yes."

Haruki looked again at the photographs. Eight centuries. Perhaps more. Someone had built an underground archive beneath Takamori long before the modern city existed — someone organised enough to mint coins, create seals, maintain written records. And every trace of them bore the same flower.

"What did the Accord say?" he asked.

Ken answered.

"They took every original."

"Did Kael recognise it?"

"No."

"You asked?"

"I asked."

"And?"

Ken hesitated. Haruki noticed immediately.

"What?"

"He paused."