The roar of meshing gears echoed within the enclosed elevator shaft.
The bronze cabin vibrated slightly, plummeting toward the depths of the earth at an astonishing speed. The rapid change in air pressure made their eardrums throb.
"Depth: three hundred meters."
Tristan stood in a corner of the cabin, still cradling the thick record book. The dim, yellow light from a magic stone lamp illuminated his impassive face.
"My lord, while 'Operation Fish in Troubled Waters' is theoretically feasible, it's tantamount to letting thieves return to their old trade."
"Tristan, do you know the difference between a thief and a constable?" Velin asked, his tone flat as he watched the rock strata streak past the cabin. "The only difference is that a constable collects a salary issued by the Lord's Mansion."
"But that doesn't mean they're trustworthy."
"As long as they're paid enough, they'll be the most rule-abiding 'constables'."
The cabin jolted, then slowly settled to a stop.
