63.1

I glanced at Griff, who shrugged. After getting the runaround, I was in no mood to miss the opportunity to meet this administrator. Taking his hand, I walked with him to the widening gap in the shelves and stepped into a thirty-by-thirty-foot clearing with a wooden desk in the middle with three matching stools.

Shadows emerged from the tall shelves, forming the shape of dogs twice the size of elephants. They glared down at us through red eyes and bared sharp, white teeth.

My lips formed a tight line. If we got out of here alive, it would be a miracle.

“Please take a seat.” A five-foot-tall man poked his head out from behind one of the dog’s front legs. He was dressed in the kind of pale tunic, breeches, and homemade shoes people wore in the twelve century. “My name is Edmund Harefoot, and I am the Administrator of Bad Debts.”

Griff and I walked to the two stools in front of his desk and sat.

He shuffled out from behind the dog, his features tight. My gaze dropped to the chain attached